![]() Breathing a moan of alleviation, I sat down to appreciate a twofold chicken-burger with firm chicken wings as an afterthought. Three times I figured out how to push them back whence they came, and secure humankind a couple of more years as the overwhelming types of this planet.Īfter their last withdraw, I set out toward my nearby Space Burger to loll in the gleam of my current triumph. ![]() Three times they attacked, each time with progressively mischievous plans. Screeches, quills flying, the possess a scent reminiscent of burned chicken all over the place. With an oily finger I set my lasers to “additional fresh” and launched to block the fowl trespassers. I dropped my half-eaten chicken burger and hopped in my cockpit. I in a split second recognized what must be finished. Attacking intergalactic chickens, out to rebuff mankind for our persecution of their natural brethren. They came all of a sudden, screeching menacingly, their unsettled quills obscuring the sun. The recollections still consume profoundly, similar to fiery chicken wings. I recollect the day of the intrusion well.
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