One day I met a chicken on the road.

He was large and spoke with a Southern accent. He kept slapping me and saying, "Now, listen to me, I say listen to me boy when I'm talkin' to you." The Chicken

suited mascot of the Happy Pecker Food Chain thought his Foghorn Leghorn routine was a riot. I knew he was a yellow-bellied squawker and challenged him to a chicken fight.

The problem was that he came back and said he would only do it if it took place in a yellow submarine! Yeah, right, like we could really find such a thing to do battle in. Chicke

Wicke was backed into a corner now. He had to find the right vehicle that would accommodate such a thing. Chicke Wicke went where everyone goes, to Craigslist. When you need the

right vehicle, Craigslist is the last place you should go, but since everyone went there so did Chicke Wicke. He had self-esteem issues. He noticed, under Personals, the label "men

wanted called Chicke Wicke. Please apply via satellite phone. I am currently embedded in the Hindu Kush. All Chicke Wickes need to be able to relocate immediately to mountainous

Pakistan. I radioed ahead for Foxy Loxy and Turkey Lurky. We had to protect our source and keep him from harm's way. Chicke Wickes had intel about the total collapse re: sky.

The sky was the limit. And also his dream...Foxy Loxy and Turkey Lurky were almost getting there, so I need to protect the source:the most important thing NOW

was keeping the generator alive. Problem is, the ship had become to heavy for it to sustain. We had to lose weight. For the fate of the others, as well as their dreams, I jumped.