User:Shandon/Chick Dickens

Chick Dickens or The Personal History, Adventures, Experience and Observation of Chick Dickens the Younger of Blunderstone Rookery (which she never meant to publish on any account)

Chapter 1: I Am Born

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, this chickenscratch must show. To begin my life with the beginning of my life, I record that I was born (as I have been informed and believe) on a Friday, at five in the afternoon. All the male newborns with me were thrown into plastic bags and left to suffocate. My arms were immediately broken, and I was shoved into a wire cage.

Chapter 2: I Have a Chance

This accursed grate is hard and completely unsuitable for my feet!

A few minutes ago a giant needle on a metal arm swung between the bars of the cage and into my area. Actually, right into my thigh!

I appear to be wanted, at least.

Further proof: food, dispensed automatically from a pipe when tapped.

Chapter 3: I Enlarge My Circle of Acquaintance

I am consistently pooped on from above. Bastards!

Of comfort to me is the notion that I can poop on those below—wait, I’m on the—DAMMIT!!

Chapter 4: I Become Neglected, and Am Provided For

ZOMG My breasts are HUUUGE!!!

Apparently my behavior of late has been improper. Food was cut off and injections increased. Whatever I am doing now must be what is desired, however; things have returned to normal.

Difficulty moving within cage. Keep encountering bars, no matter which direction I attempt to move.

Margie’s (4 up, 1 east) Halloween costume was hilarious.

Chapter 5: Good and Bad Angels

Margie disappeared shortly following Halloween.

Gail (1 up, two north) and Renee (one south-west) were taken away yesterday.

They were replaced by a couple of newborns. Chicks appear ill-conceived and not noteworthy.

Our oral mythology includes tales of what occurs when one is taken. According to the most popular version, we are taken to the Place of Reckoning. There, we are to experience either of two fates. The preferable is to be mercifully cast bodily into a great shredding apparatus, which is said to swiftly tear our bodies into components and spill our entrails to the ground. The advantage here is the speed of expiration.

Alternately, we are hanged upside down, our throats slit, and there remain to contemplate our existence.

There is a rattle.

The door is opening even now.

The white-clothed hand reaches for me.