Attack of the killer chicken

Young sleek wasn’t stubborn. Or naughty. He just played a lot and got his clothes dirty. And when they’d leave him and his siblings every afternoon ‘taking a mandatory nap’, he’d actually play ‘dool’ with them siblings. ‘Dool’ is a game very similar to pool; you have some marbles you try to knock into a hole. But that’s a gross injustice to the game, summarizing it like that. A lot of thinking, planning, skill, sheer luck and long fingers are needed if you are to be the village champion. DK was our village champion. Modest as he is right now, that chap walked around the village challenging anyone to a game of dool. Conductors, boda boda guys (there weren’t many back then), the chapatti guy…DK beat them all. How did Lil’ Sleek play ‘dool’ in the house with his siblings? Well, he made a hole in the carpet…be young, be stupid eh?

But this story is not about DK or about ‘dool’…this tale is about the killer chicken. Now one day, Lil’ sleek was walking under an apple tree. And then an apple fell and hit his head. And he picked the apple up and while eating it, he started to think, “Why did the apple fall down?”

And the young man’s mind wandered to gravity, and his mind started racing; Force =mass X gravity. He run and started scribbling stuff furiously…and then he realized that Newton had beaten him to the theory. That scheming Newton. Walking away dejected, he came across a hen with its chicks.…imagine that, a hen with chics following it around. Let’s rephrase that, we don’t want Lulu getting lost and missing the story. A dejected Lil’ Sleek came across a hen and its young. In his dejection, he decided to pick on one of the chics…Lil’ Sleek picked on a chic and all hell got away. Mother hens are mean killing machines. Now, Lil’ Sleek knew about gravity and ish, but he had no idea how mean these mothers could be. So he got his first beat down. From a hen. The thing kicked, scratched, clucked, pecked and even jeered. When it was done, Lil’ Sleek was on his knees clutching his face…his assailant turned to leave probably thinking ‘Wuss!’. The assailant stopped, called the chics (who were frothing from their beaks, having screamed themselves sore during the action) and together they started to walk off. Miss HENdipendent paused and kicked some dirt back at Lil’ Sleek. She wiped her brow and spat on the ground. “Nigger, you’ve been served”. And the posse walked off, clucking to some beat in their chicken brains.

The whole thing had lasted but a few seconds but Sleek was scared for life. To this day, deep down he fears mother hens. His body unconsciously takes the long route round mother hens. He takes pride in putting away huge amounts of chicken when at table. His revenge. This revenge is a dish best served with tomato sauce.