Panchito

Prologue (Mama)

By: TheLionGuard and Wesleyswizardwheezes

As Mama sat on her rough straw nest, she was uncomfortable, so she shifted into a better position and realized it wasn’t the scratchy straw but instead the rattling of eggs. It was happening, the babies, they were coming. Her whole life, her name was Mama. Before having these four little precious speckled brown eggs, she had thought the name cruel and heartless. She had never been a mama before and was not sure she would ever be one. Her mother had been a duck and her father a handsome little rooster. She got her manly chicken side from her dad. THEY WERE COMING FINALLY! She clucked staring at the pale periwinkle sky through the small patch of wire at the roof of the coop.

“PRAISE BE, THEY ARE COMING! THEY ARE COMING INTO THIS WORLD!” She exclaimed. To the ordinary human it would have sounded like a strangled warble, but to the rest of the chicken race it was a joyful shout of exited nervousness.

The first egg, Carlatta, was hatching. And she was coming quickly, very, very quickly. Out little Carlatta came, and boy was she an adorable little chick. Then little Cruz was coming. She wasn’t sure if that was a name, but sounded hip and very hispanic.

“I, AM A HISPANIC CHICKEN WANNA BE,” she shouted dramatically in the air. She wanted to say more, but ugly little Cruz came out and failed at life already. Shame, she thought he would handsome little chickling.

The third egg was coming, and it was way larger than the other eggs. This wasn’t dramatic though, and apparently the chick was not a chick. It was a duckling. How horrible, but she named the duckling Ducky-Pucky. Oh he was so handsome, he would make a great ladies man.

My last egg, Panchito, never hatched. It was a tragic and depressing. It made Mama cry chicken-duck tears over the small egg. She should have known one would not have a chance to drink from the pitcher of chicken-lemonadey life. She ignored her new babies clucking and warbling for food in their starving new bodies and caressed the cold egg in her claws. Life had no meaning now.