II (Catchen continued, Read "catchen" first)
He was too fast, but what could Miss Chick expect from a guy humping her in her sleep. Taking the opportunity to break the rapist's illusion of power even further, Miss Chick turned around. She was going to say, "You are bad, you can't even hit the spot," but what she saw kept her quiet. Dangerously close to her was Blind Whiskers; a stocky, strong built cat, with ginger fur and very long whiskers. His tongue hung like a dog after catching his ball, but his expression was one of confusion. “Why is there a chicken in front of me?” he thought. Cursing out loud and turning his back to her, Blind Whiskers walked away. Miss Chick could not accept what her vision suggested. She was smart - though she may not admit it - so she understood what had happened perfectly. However, the fact horrified her entirely. She kept denying the fact for a full week, until one day she broke down and cried undisturbed for a very long time. A cat had been with her all the time!
Time and time again, Roosty, the morning rooster, had dealt with Miss Chick’s mood swings. He knew they were due to her self hatred, but he weathered it. Loyal like no other and idealistic to the point of stupidity, this middle-aged rooster stood by Miss Chick through unfaithfulness and suffering. Hope and his life long desire to prove love can rehabilitate anybody, made Roosty an enviable boyfriend. He had been a bachelor for quite a long time, but all the while he kept promising he would be the best boyfriend ever. Who did he make the promise to? No one knows. What everybody knew, besides the rumours of him being gay, was how near he got to resembling his favourite song: ’38 Years Old,’ by The Tragically Hip. Animals on every farm saluted him cordially, but in low voices they repeated the song’s chorus, “38years old, never kissed a girl.”
Miss Chick was truly a blessing for him. Cute, graceful, interesting, good in bed, and complicated as Dante’s interpretation of hell, Miss Chick was Roosty’s dream chicken. He was entirely devoted to loving her and reforming her. She was unfaithful, sneaky, and very manipulative, but throughout their five years together, Roosty had developed defence mechanisms. But when Miss Chick broke into tears for three full months - the same number of minutes it took Blind Whiskers to reach his climax - Roosty got terribly worried. Everybody knew why, Roosty included. The news had spread like wildfire, but animals in every farm held back their comments mainly because they were grateful for the small creek Miss Chick’s tears had created. It was the dry season. Luckily the couple lived on the top of the barn, and their house never got flooded.
Miss Chick cried instead of letting her heart stop from lack of a will to live. She wanted to keep living for two reasons, Roosty and her eggs. Her motherly instinct told her the children were going to suffer the lashing scrutiny of everyone’s hypocrite words. All animals attended mass, but they always forgot to pay attention to those passages that required them to change. Therefore, they did not hesitate to throw stones at every sinner that stepped out of the common orgy of sins. Miss Chick’s children were certainly going to be whipped into murderous rampages or suicide.
Three months and a week later, her eggs hatched. She smiled. She blushed. She actually felt embarrassed receiving her children in such a state, and she told Roosty embarrassed she was. Her long months of crying had stripped her from her chest feathers, once very much admired in this hamlet of unforgiving souls. Her eyes were still puffy and red, and the arrival of new life made her tear up again. Roosty calmed her and made her fill beautiful with the bath of kisses he washed her with. There had not a cuter scene in this hamlet of unforgiving souls; a chicken and her rooster, looking down at the cracking eggs.
Such a scene in such a place can only last so long. As soon as the first chick turned its head toward his parents and stumbled unto they hay, Roosty pushed Miss Chick aside in disgust. A whiskered beak and a long ginger tail made part of this abhorrent pink sack of fragile bones. His disgust would grow as soon as he saw these creatures’ eyes. Miss Chick’s fears grew into uncontrollable anxiety. She froze when looking at how Roosty contemplated her new born babies.
[Will Roosty control his disgust for devotion to Miss Chick? Is Miss Chick going to survive the anxiety that it is just starting to gnaw at her heart? wait and see]
Time and time again, Roosty, the morning rooster, had dealt with Miss Chick’s mood swings. He knew they were due to her self hatred, but he weathered it. Loyal like no other and idealistic to the point of stupidity, this middle-aged rooster stood by Miss Chick through unfaithfulness and suffering. Hope and his life long desire to prove love can rehabilitate anybody, made Roosty an enviable boyfriend. He had been a bachelor for quite a long time, but all the while he kept promising he would be the best boyfriend ever. Who did he make the promise to? No one knows. What everybody knew, besides the rumours of him being gay, was how near he got to resembling his favourite song: ’38 Years Old,’ by The Tragically Hip. Animals on every farm saluted him cordially, but in low voices they repeated the song’s chorus, “38years old, never kissed a girl.”
Miss Chick was truly a blessing for him. Cute, graceful, interesting, good in bed, and complicated as Dante’s interpretation of hell, Miss Chick was Roosty’s dream chicken. He was entirely devoted to loving her and reforming her. She was unfaithful, sneaky, and very manipulative, but throughout their five years together, Roosty had developed defence mechanisms. But when Miss Chick broke into tears for three full months - the same number of minutes it took Blind Whiskers to reach his climax - Roosty got terribly worried. Everybody knew why, Roosty included. The news had spread like wildfire, but animals in every farm held back their comments mainly because they were grateful for the small creek Miss Chick’s tears had created. It was the dry season. Luckily the couple lived on the top of the barn, and their house never got flooded.
Miss Chick cried instead of letting her heart stop from lack of a will to live. She wanted to keep living for two reasons, Roosty and her eggs. Her motherly instinct told her the children were going to suffer the lashing scrutiny of everyone’s hypocrite words. All animals attended mass, but they always forgot to pay attention to those passages that required them to change. Therefore, they did not hesitate to throw stones at every sinner that stepped out of the common orgy of sins. Miss Chick’s children were certainly going to be whipped into murderous rampages or suicide.
Three months and a week later, her eggs hatched. She smiled. She blushed. She actually felt embarrassed receiving her children in such a state, and she told Roosty embarrassed she was. Her long months of crying had stripped her from her chest feathers, once very much admired in this hamlet of unforgiving souls. Her eyes were still puffy and red, and the arrival of new life made her tear up again. Roosty calmed her and made her fill beautiful with the bath of kisses he washed her with. There had not a cuter scene in this hamlet of unforgiving souls; a chicken and her rooster, looking down at the cracking eggs.
Such a scene in such a place can only last so long. As soon as the first chick turned its head toward his parents and stumbled unto they hay, Roosty pushed Miss Chick aside in disgust. A whiskered beak and a long ginger tail made part of this abhorrent pink sack of fragile bones. His disgust would grow as soon as he saw these creatures’ eyes. Miss Chick’s fears grew into uncontrollable anxiety. She froze when looking at how Roosty contemplated her new born babies.
[Will Roosty control his disgust for devotion to Miss Chick? Is Miss Chick going to survive the anxiety that it is just starting to gnaw at her heart? wait and see]