Gay Chicken

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: Ahh, well this was a really sweet little story here, its a really simple plot on the surface, but beneath that there's so much more going on here....and I love both meanings that we get for this little story.

Anyway let's get right to it,

Steve the chicken walked around the grand compound surrounding the little coop where he resided along with all of the others like him. There were roughly thirty of them, give or take, as their numbers seemed to dwindle often, despite the rate at which new chickens were born into the world that was the almighty farm. And yet, Steve was not like the other chickens. Not at all.

For the last years of his life, he’d found himself generally more and more shunned from his own kind. They found him…odd. And the more he tried to blend in with the others, the more he felt left out, and even more so, he didn’t feel like himself. He didn’t like himself when he just strode in circles, pecking at the ground for pellets, squawking at others, following the creator, God Farmerwayne around relentlessly, and generally being a standard chicken. Steve rather enjoyed smelling the various flowers all across the farm, and eyeing the other sexy chickens he had trouble keeping his sights off. He also spent a great deal of time cosplaying as Rocky, the lead character of the film ‘Chicken Run’, something he’d watched several times in secret, while hiding under massa Farmerwayne’s recliner during one of those times he’d snuck in during movie night. Steve had come to think of the pictured of the deep, dark window as magic. It’s part of why he was so mystified with the pictures, and the chickens in them. Especially Rocky.

That first night he’d snuck in and seen them, Farmerwayne had been watching that very film. It was surely his favorite. It was during that night, that Steve finally figured out what had been wrong in his life. Or missing. Something missing about himself. Something he’d hidden away in his mind, rather occupying it with mindless pecking and roosting among the masses. Steve was gay.

In the time after this incident, Steve had embraced a lot of new aspects of his personality. He didn’t follow the masses any longer, and he instead kept to himself. He’d told some others, though not many, as he’d quickly been shunned by the few he confided in. Chickens were revealed to him to be quite the fickle beasts. It’s no wonder Farmerwayne watched that film so often; he could feel the inner concealed rage of his chickens. Unbeknownst to Steve, as well as all the other chickens, were the fact that Farmerwayne had nightmares where his chickens all devoured him slowly, savoring the flavor of his ripe, tanned skin, and soft, delicate entrails. Then they laid eggs in his hollowed out corpse, where they would keep warm. They lined his inside with hay, carrying it with them in their beaks, marching after each other in a line, as if military; a well-oiled machinery of death. Like they’d been planning every step of this horrendous attack since forever. It was usually when Big Rhonda, his prize chicken, begun pecking out his eyes that he awoke in the night, sheets drenched in sweat.

Anyway, Steve obviously knew nothing of this, so he had nothing to worry about. Except being gay of course. Which wasn’t met with understanding in the coop, and generally turned him into an outcast.

And yet, as with everything else, things always get darkest before they get better. So it was, that during one of Steve’s darkest moments, as he was contemplating jumping into the deep fryer, that the sound of Farmerwayne’s ‘magic steelbox’ came roaring into the compound of the almighty farm. He ran as fast as his feet could carry him, seeing the massa carrying a large steel cage out from the backseat of his pickup, just as Steve stopped outside the house, at the porch.

Inside this cage, were the answers to all of Steve’s problems. He would no longer be alone. No longer have to carry the burden of being different for himself. And he would find peace. Or he would find the comfy inner confines of the deep fryer. Still, do not worry. This is not that kind of story. This is a story of a lost chicken, finally finding love.

For inside of the steel cage, there was a new prize chicken. A rooster. Which God Farmerwayne had paid a pretty price for. His name was Greg, and he was colored a gorgeous brown, with a whiter chest than you’d ever seen. And Steve would come to understand soon enough; Greg was also gay.

Weeks went by as more and more signs began to show around Greg the rooster. He didn’t flock with the others, and rather kept to himself. He enjoyed smelling the flowers as well, just like Steve, and sometimes they’d watch each other from afar. Greg would strut around catching the attention of every chick in the compound, yet he did not strut for them. His eyes were of Steve. Steve the chicken was not like the others, he had realized. He didn’t flock, he didn’t join them in their endless pecking. He kept to himself, and he seemed to harbor a secret. Much like Greg himself. In the deepest depths of his mind, he hoped he would somehow find the courage to talk to Steve, and soon. For though they both suspected it, none of them knew for certain just how unhappy the other was on their own. Without someone to flock to. A significant other. And they were, very much.

Then it happened. Saturday, the stars were shining bright in the sky, and most of the other chickens had already dozed off to sleep. Steve had hidden behind the feeding through, and now that things had quieted down, Steve made his move. Silently, he snuck up to the main farmhouse. He knew what day it was; Saturday, movie night. And he knew in the gut of his stomach what massa Farmerwayne would be watching tonight: ‘Chicken Run’. He wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Once he entered the hallway, he could already hear that he was right. The film was playing at full volume from the living room, and Steve carefully made his way in there. He didn’t have to watch out for the lady living with massa anymore; she’d left a few days ago, Farmerwayne kissed her goodbye. Steve had watched them from his roost on the tallest shelf. For several minutes, he stalled in the kitchen, pecking at fallen popcorn that hadn’t made it from the bag and into the large bowl. Steve liked the salty taste, and he brought the largest piece of popcorn with him into the living room. He’d enjoy it while watching the magic pictures.

However, as he carefully ducked under the recliner where massa Farmerwayne was currently snoring, he found himself somewhat startled; for he was not alone. Greg the rooster was there. In the confusion, Steve dropped the large piece of popcorn he held in his mouth. It rolled onto the floor and stopped at his feet. For the following few moments, both of them only looked at each other, unsure of what to say. From the film in the background, Babs uttered the line ‘I don’t want to be a pie’, and the silence was broken.

Their moment had finally arrived.

Somewhat nervously, with hints of a stutter, Steve said; “Hey.”

Greg’s whole face was as happy as one could be. “Hey.”

Steve pushed the large piece of popcorn towards Greg. And they ate, laughed, told stories, and watched ‘Chicken Run’.

And two chickens found love.

I'm not to blame. You did this willingly. Anyway, let review this thing.

For the last years of his life, he’d found himself generally more and more shunned from his own kind.

He’d told some others, though not many, as he’d quickly been shunned by the few he confided in.

Inside this cage, were the answers to all of Steve’s problems.

And as Steve would come to understand soon enough; Greg was also gay.

He didn’t have to watch out for the lady living with massa anymore; she’d left a few days ago, Farmerwayne kissed her goodbye.

Steve pushed the large piece of popcorn towards Greg. And they ate, laughed, told stories, and watched ‘Chicken Run’.

Hey, first off good job!
Second why you wrote this would be an interest in story in itself. Not that this wasn't interesting, but it deffinetly was strange. I can't believe I actually stopped to read this.
As for grammatical errors I saw none. Yay!
Only thing I can saw you might want to change is the title although very straight forward sometimes something more mysterious might draw more attention and prevent people from thinking its spam of some sort.

Anyway good luck and Keep Writing

Junel

P.S. I love that you refrenced chicken run. Haha.

Hmm. Was I the reason behind this wonderful story?

I absolutely loved this! And I am so happy you made reference to 'Chicken Run'. Thank you for this.

I have to hear the story behind this.

My god, you actually went and did it.