The Great Legends Of Bai Ji

Bai ji means white chicken in Chinese. It is a dish that is usually served with soya sauce/ rice.

TW: mentions of su1c!de, cow piss, sharp objects, death

Chapter 1

Most think that I live a lavish life. Born from the richest of the rich, with a diamond spoon shoved down my throat. Having wads of notes lined across my mansion, sleeping on a king-sized bed made from stacks of cash, wiping my ass with one-hundred dollar bills. But in reality, I hailed from a very poor family. Living in the rural area of planet x=yc+m, City 3.14. Where it was surrounded by trees, cornering each side of my house. There was no way out. I tried to escape numerous times, but to no avail. Until one day, light permeated the darkness. This is my story…

I was brought up by a single mother as my father had left us to buy some cow piss for us to drink so we could photosynthesise but he never came back. That asshole. I still remember, third of December*¹, me in my stitched together kitchen cloth sweater, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace where my dad would tell me stories of his great adventures outside of the invisible barrier prohibiting us from leaving planet x=yc+m. Since we were banned from ever leaving our planet after we angered the one and only Divine Being of Birds, I was very impressed and intrigued by his heroic stories of how he protected the citizens of another planet by defeating the evil and widely infamous dark witch of the west ducks who was planning to take over all the other planets, including planet ½ x base x height and planet ¾πr^3. My mum and I cried ourselves to sleep the whole night, relentlessly praying for him to come back to us so that we can have our cow piss. But soon enough, I came to terms with the fact that he was never coming back. He tide turner*² his back on us, and never looked back. He never loved us to begin with. All he has ever cared about is money and the cow piss, which we didn’t even have. The feeling of betrayal left my mother and me heart-brocken. I was full of fury, resentment, and rage. 

Soon after, when I turned 10, I began to grow an unfamiliar mark on my ankle. What I initially thought was a minor scar, slowly started to bleed all over my ankle. It stained like ink, and was impossible to wash off. It was elegantly shaped, bearing resemblance to calligraphy’s brush strokes. It formed the shape of a π. One day, while I was sleeping, the mark started to flow out a long chain of numbers. It started with “3.141592653” and continued endlessly. They acted as a rope allowing me to grab things. However, I was unaware of how to use this ability and thus, lost control of it. Thankfully, my mother was always there to help me. Unfortunately, she had also soon begun to get swallowed up by the chain of numbers.The last thing I remembered before my consciousness faded was pissing and shitting on the white ceramic floor in fear.

When I regained consciousness, I looked down, only to be greeted by the sight of my hands covered by my mother’s blood and my piss, flowing down my hands like paint running down an oil canvas (except it smelled like shit, literally).

I was devastated.

“I..I..k-k-kkill-ll-ed..m-my…ow-own…m-m-m-mo…mother?...” I was confused. And shocked. I could not come to terms with the fact that I murdered my own mother. I had never thought that the day my mother’s blood would be on my hands would come. I then pissed my pants cutely and elegantly out of terror shock*³ again.

No..NO..I couldn't have killed her! There’s absolutely no way I did that. What am I going to do now? My head started spinning like Breaking wheel (The Will Brothers)*⁴, similar to a beyblade*⁵. “Being fatherless wasn’t enough for you, huh? Bet you can’t even handle being parentless..: rolls-eyes:…” I whipped my head around like a nae nae*⁶, trembling like a coral under the sea. I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. There, my late mother stood, covered head to toe in MY piss. My eyes didn’t dare meet hers, I settled to staring at the ground. I crouched down and choked on sobs as I helplessly prayed for the hallucination to go away, pissing myself AGAIN in the process. How am I going to survive? I have no idea what to do. I might as well just die. I don’t deserve to live after what I did. I went to the kitchen where my mother would prepare cow piss to drink everyday. I looked over to see the rusty fork that my mother often used to open cow piss jars with. With the rusty fork in hand, I braced myself to stab my small stupid chicken brain, which was dried like my grandmother’s eczema flakes.

That’s when they came.

The men in chicken suits. They are the servants of King Mark Junior the 3rd. The great chicken himself. “The most mouth-watering medium rare chicken. That’s what they call me. I promise you, you will never be lonely.” Ever since that day. He told me to remember these words, “you are a lost chicken, from cow piss land. Usually hanging out with, chicken man.” *⁷  After spending some time with him, he took me in.

“ Hewwo kiddo, meh has somethwing to tell chu o//o. Pwwease don’t be afwaid unu. The trwuth is…..I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I am…your..bwirth fwather owo…”

“What the FUCK!!!! Who the shit are u! Why u talking in uwu language you stupid old man?! What the hell is this u knn*⁸. You well done steak! You wet socks! You cold soup! You nincompoop! You whippersnapper! You dingleberry! You rotten tomato! You imbecile! You banana peel on the floor! You wet rice! You stalford tuition centre!*⁹ You dried succulent. You sea urchin! You ji bai!*¹⁰ You…. you stupid bloody thin HDB wall! *¹¹”

*sigh*

“Um..uh…well…I guess. I won’t be..parentless now! Woohoo, hooray…ig..”

-The End  :))))))))))  -

Author’s note:

All the stupid references we made

*¹ Reference to the song ‘Heather”, by Conan Gray
*² Reference to an ability in Identity V
*³ Reference to a event from the game “Identity V”
*⁴ Reference to a character from the game “Identity V”
*⁵ Reference to the show ‘Beyblade’
*⁶ Reference to the song ‘Watch me (Whip/ Nae Nae)’, by Silentó
*⁷ Reference to the song ‘Lost Boy’, by Ruth B

*⁸ Ka ni na - the Singaporean way of saying ‘F your mother’ (please don’t call anyone this)

*⁹ Reference to one of the authors a bad experience in Stalford Tuition Centre
*¹⁰ ccb u can go search it urself...hahaha.....

*¹¹ Reference to ‘Perfecting Pratas’ from the book ‘Student Plays’ by Demond Sim