“Okay let’s get the cluck out of here!” Biscuit Pisser started to sprint off, only to trip as Krumbumbum snatched her skirt and watched as she tumbled to the floor face first as glass shot out of her way.
“That’s the last thing we should do! And if you knew anything about chickens you’d know that already!”
“Well then, Krumbumhole, why don’t you enlighten us with all your precious knowledge instead of lording it over us like some sort of dreadful floating manatee?”
“Okay but first Broderica what is with all these weird clucking comparisons to strange animals you’re always making? A dreadful floating manatee?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? What do you mean what do I mean? Do you mean you think a dreadful floating manatee is something that one would normally encounter in the day to day?”
“I shan’t think why not?”
“Okay okay okay let me just uhmm let me just step in here Shitface. Have we all forgotten about the gigantic chicken that just melted half the audience? Are we not worried about that?”
The chicken began to slowly raise its large claw feet into the air, then hesitated and set them back down. Then it raised them back up, and continued this process, almost absentmindedly stepping on the ladies many times.
“Not really, because you see if you’d let me finish talking—
They all braced for the chicken foot’s impact.
BOOM
“—I would have—”
BOOM
“—told you that—”
BOOM
“—the safest—”
BOOM
“—place to be—”
BOOM
“—is right underfoot—”
BOOM
“—of the chicken.”
“Cluck your stupid knowledge!” Broderica finished off her flask purse and chucked it at the gigantic chook, completely missing it yet impressively whacking into and spinning away from a small nearby sparrow, which dropped out of the air and plopped dead in the grass.
BOOM
“You’re going to make it angry,” fussed Krumbumbum.
BOOM
“Make it angry? It’s made me angry! It just made me throw out my best purse!”
BOOM
“That’s your only purse and it’s not even a purse it’s a flask that we tied some straps on that used to be Biscuit Pisser’s belt back when she had a—”
BOOM
“It’s a purse cockhamnit!!”
BOOM
“Hey gals,” whined Biscuit Pisser.
BOOM
“Just say guys Biscuit Pisser,” Broderica sighed.
BOOM
“I’m getting really scared that I’m going to try and climb the chicken.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
BOOM
“Don’t clucking do that!! Don’t climb the chicken that’s the last thing you should do!!”
BOOM
“I don’t know it really seems like I’m gonna climb the chicken!”
BOOM
“Just don’t you’ll clucking die!”
BOOM
“Cluck you Krumbumbum. Biscuit Pisser, climb the chicken. Climb the everloving cluck out of that chicken. Climb that chicken til you can’t climb that chicken no more and then climb that chicken more than that. Climb. That. Chicken.”
BOOM
Krumbumbum gasped for air to try and tell Biscuit Pisser to not climb the chicken, but with a glance she realized that Biscuit Pisser had already started climbing the chicken and was now dangling off some feathers right above the chicken’s left leg.
BOOM
“Hey guys and dolls ehrm guys and gals um so I don’t know what to do from here so um could I uh—”
BOOM
“Of course you don’t you clucking idiot! Hood thing I’m a clucking wizard! If you were you’d know this is the only way to mount a chicken!”
BOOM
Krumbumbum raised her left leg high in the air as if it was long enough to glide over the chicken’s haunches, flashing a majority of the living audience members.
WHOOOOO
This sudden cry of delight alarmed the chicken, which promptly—
BUKAWWWFFFFSHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Melted them into a burnt gravy.
Krumbumbum sighed and then, flicking her hair back and moaning so loudly that Broderica wished she could scoop out her earsdrums. Then she pelvic thrusted in the air over and over and over again, and with each thrust, she and Broderica jerked shortly into the air. Jerk and jerk and jerk and jerk as she thrusted back and forth and back and forth and moaned and jerk and back and forth and jerk and moan and back and forth and there was Biscuit Pisser Broderica grabbed her and then Krumbumbum thrusted back and forth and back and forth and they jerked and jerked and she moaned and moaned and moaned because she was out of breath and moaned because it was wearing her out and moaned because it was making her sore and moaned because why in the hen wasn’t this over yet and jerk and moan and back and forth and moan and her legs hurt and in and out and jerk and moan and why was it taking so long and moan and moan and come on it had to be over and moan and moan and jerk and back and forth and forth and back ooh that hurt she messed up and back and forth and back and forth and jerk and moan and moan and moan and—
“OHHHH!” Krumbumbum cried, face flushed, pelvis trembling as they hovered an inch above the chicken. Then, they dropped daintily on its back, Krumbumbum falling face forward with her arms and legs dangling on either side of the chicken. “CLUCKKK!”
“Wow,” Broderica snorted. “You would totally get thrown out of Dimension Exercise.” Dimension Exercise was a a chain of inexpensive caves that promised to give you the body of your dreams by way of lifting progressively heavier packes of sardines because they were also a sardine packing company.
Biscuit Pisser shook nervously as she watched the chicken dart its volatile head around. “Hey guys I am really uncomfortable right now.”
“What?” gasped Krumbumbum, “Are your thighs on fire too? Is your mouth just gaping trying to get all the air in?”
“Please never say that word again.”
“What word? Thighs?”
“No! Gaping!”
“Why gaping? What’s the problem with saying gaping what about the word gaping do you dislike?”
“Nevermind.”
“No no I want to know why you don’t want me to say gaping nothing is wrong with gaping my mouth was gaping I mean how else can I say that my mouth was gaping?”
“Both of you zip it before my gaping fist gapes the cluck out of both of you! Hen, it may just gape you both off the chicken into a gaping splatter on the gaping ground!”
“Broderica that’s not the right way to use gaping in a sentence.”
“Oh my clucking cock will you listen to yourself?” Broderica pinched her nose to make her voice squeaky and annoying. “That’s not the right way to talk about gaping! That’s not the right way to mount a chicken let me show you how to mount a chicken!” She unpinched her nose. “Cluck you, Krumbumbum. Cluck. You. Now make me some liquor you magical vitch.”
Krumbumbum muttered to herself about Broderica not knowing anything about gaping and conjured her up a large handle of whiskey.
“ALCOHOL!” boomed the mysterious deep voice as the whiskey materialized in Krumbumbum’s palm. She took a few swigs herself before handing it off to Broderica.
“Hey, um, guys, can I ask you a question?”
“You just did you clucking pinwheel,” chuckled Broderica through sloshing spurts of liquor.
“It’s a figure of speech!”
Krumbumbum butted in. “So is gaping.”
“Shut up shut up shut up! Look over there!” Biscuit Pisser pointed a shaking finger towards the wide field below them.
“Look over where?” Broderica asked as she looked around haphazardly, continuing to chug from the handle of whiskey and almost falling off the chicken many times.
“Down there in the field!”
“You know Biscuit Pisser,” Broderica began to gesticulate with the whiskery handle, almost knocking Krumbumbum off the chicken, “You know, not that it’s truly your business, but while I don’t trim myself down there, if you will, missirrah, I still find calling it a field to be rather, what’s the word, crude as shit?”
“Are you blind, woman?” vitched Krumbumbum. “He’s pointing down there! The field as in the field where the race track is? You know, underfoot of the chicken? Where we were standing only moment before?”
“What did you just clucking call me, Krumbumbum?”
“Blind? A woman?”
“Think about what pronouns you used to describe me.”
“Why should I?! Shouldn’t we be more worried about what’s going on down there in the—”
“Do you two have crabs or something?” Broderica interjected, burping liquor all over the back of Biscuit Pisser’s head.
“What the cluck no of course not!” Krumbumbum scoffed.
“Okay hood because I borrowed some of your underwear earlier and all this talk of trouble ‘down there’ as it were has really been making me nervous.”
“That’s not what we were talking about if you would just look—”
“You called me ‘he,’ Krumbumbum!”
“So what if I did?! Aren’t you a man anyways?”
“Right now I’m a woman, woman!” Biscuit Pisser growled, pulling her top off and jiggling her perky tits around lavasciously. “Just look at these titties!”
At the word titties, the chicken’s feathers ruffled up like it had just put its beak in a magical power socket.
BUHBUHBUHCKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW