You are a chicken. After a long , stressful day, you needed to unwind. You walked into a bar, cold and shivering from the outdoors. The first thing you notice is the bittersweet smell of alcohol. You gobble real loud, but then decide to sneek quietly to the back. You find all the broken bottles and slurp from the remains of the juice that was left.
You can't help but notice the very close bathroom near the glass shards. Then, eating the glass shards just for the flavor of vanilla rum, you scrape and cut your tongue. You bleed a little, but you are an escaped circus chicken, so you are used to the random, stupid injuries.
You walk into the bathroom to handle yo biz. You scratch off t.p. from the roll with your claws and place them on your very moist mouth. It actually tasted pretty good. You place more on your tongue, but the bleeding goes away, so you don't eat anymore. You have to admit though, you are pretty hungry for.... ummmm........errrrerdfddfffffrrrr............ milk.
Then you remember. The circus is where your uncle lives. That's where you usually get your milk, from uncle Moomoo. But you cannot go back to the circus. Last time you hurt your uncle by sucking too hard. He was really angry, and you couldn't handle the guilt. You really loved your uncle, but you wish you hadn't hurt his man boobs.
Where can you get the milk? You were going to go on a long adventure that would lead you to chicken success. Laying golden eggs.
No chicken has ever completed such a feat. You felt you could do it if you tried. Johnny boy, your mother, always said you can do anything you want if you tried. You were going to believe her this time. Because you're a chicken, and chickens are majestically risky.
