Let’s Try and Figure Out This Chicken’s Backstory

I recently did a show at the University of Maryland-Baltimore County. It was a great time – the staff, students, and organizers were all a lot of fun and just a top notch group of people. I couldn’t have had a better time. The only catch? The stage where they held the show had a giant plywood chicken on it, which towered over me during my entire set (pictured, as I hope you’ve figured out by now, to your left).

Look at him. What’s his story? It’s impossible to tell. All we know is that it looks like he’s in mid-jump. With that in mind, let’s speculate on what this chicken may be doing:

HE’S BEING HUNG
Macabre, right? This one’s a little dark, so best we get it out of the way first. Maybe he pissed off the wrong guy. Maybe he played too fast and loose with the wrong rooster. Can’t you picture him in a hen house, fooling around with one of his cluck buddies, only to have a giant rooster and his rooster henchmen break in and demand their money?

“I don’t have it, Johnny!” pleads our hero. “You know I’m good for it though! Aw shit, Johnny, BA-GAWK! Aw shit man, give me a BA-GAWKin break!”

Johnny won’t have any of it. He has his loyal yet ruthless henchman string up Tony the Beak and hang him with some chicken wire, just for the irony of it.

HE’S PLAYING BASKETBALL
Our hero is involved in a game of pickup basketball with a bunch of chickens. A chick-up game, if you will. This piece captures him as he rises to the hoop, ready to throw down on one of his bird brethren with authority.

HE’S SINGING VAN HALEN’S JUMP
What initially started as an evening of quiet conversation over cocktails with friends has turned into a rowdy, drunken free-for-all when the chicken and his friends discovered it’s Karaoke Night. After taking a few shots of Jager, our fowl-weather friend musters up his courage, belts out his best Lee Roth impression, and grabs a passing waitress for a sloppy makeout before he’s escorted from the premises.

HE’S IN LINE FOR A ROLLER COASTER, AND TRYING REALLY HARD TO PROVE TO THE CARNEY HE’S TALL ENOUGH TO RIDE THE RIDE
Perhaps our avian protaganist is a teenaged chick, excited for a big day at the amusement park. As he approaches the YOU MUST BE THIS TALL TO RIDE THIS RIDE sign, he attempts (in vain) to prove he belongs. Unfortunately he’s shown out through the side exit, only to go drown his sorrows in some funnel cakes made of chicken feed, or whatever it is chickens would eat at their version of amusement parks.

HE’S ATTEMPTING TO BECOME THE CHICKEN PULL-UP CHAMPION
Everyone doubted him. His friends. His family. All those bullies at his chicken high school, who said, “Hey, you can’t set the world record for pull-ups. You’re just a chicken. This isn’t even a high school, as birds don’t grasp the concept of education. It’s just a farm.” But he proved them all wrong when he got up early every morning at the break of dawn to train. And now, five years later, here he is, doing pull-ups as if that’s a normal thing for chickens to do, with a really impressive set of triceps. For a bird, at least.

HE’S CENTERSTAGE AT A CONCERT FOR AN ARTIST WHO HAPPENS TO BE THE JUSTIN BIEBER EQUIVALENT OF THE CHICKEN WORLD
As he frantically leaps near the stage with all the other fans of  teenage chicken heart throb Johnny Wattle, he knows that he made the right decision to quit school to follow his favorite artist around Europe on tour.

AUTO-EROTIC ASPHYXIATION
This could easily be him hanging from a shower rod while a couple of hen whores he paid off monitor the whole seedy affair to make sure he doesn’t pass all the way out.

HE’S HIGH-FIVING SOMEONE
I’d say that he’s doing one of those leaping high-fives, where you jump to slap your boy’s in mid-air, but….well….

NOT SURE HOW TO CATEGORIZE THIS ONE BUT, UH…WHERE THE FUCK ARE HIS WINGS?
This literally just dawned on me as I write this. Where the fuck ARE his wings? Are they behind his back? Did they get cut off? Is he a homeless veteran of some long-ago chicken war?

Those are some craaaaazy explanations, no? To all you readers out there: what do you think? Do you have any wacky ideas on what this chicken might be doing? If you do, write it down on a piece of notebook paper, crumple that up, and then shove it up your ass because who cares what you think? This is my blog and I’m the only one who gets to write on it. Go start your own blog. WordPress is free.

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