The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
The Origin of HelioTurk
The Lost Prophecies
Chapter 1; verse 1
Many milliseconds from now I began to rant, and so rant I did until one came to listen. That one is you and I, just a thing of the past, present and future. As you listen I shall tell a tale of both intrigue and fantasy role playing. Many years from now, there will be a great war of preposterous proportions, a war that will decide the fate of Earth. This is the tale of the war between abnormal giant midgets and the godless killing machines themselves…bears! Damnit! Wrong story! I meant to say that this is the tale of the great Avian War! It all began on a chicken farm, when a farmer was out checking on the stock of eggs laid the previous night. He found only two eggs and a rusty nail out of all his three thousand hens and ten roosters. He was pissed, big time. Noticing the hate in his eyes, the hens began to tremble, for you see they all knew that when the farmer was displeased, he dragged two of them off to his basement where he would conduct awful experiments on them. The survival rate was slim and even those who survived were cooked alive in the farmer’s oven for thirty minutes. Knowing this, one of the roosters, by the name of which is not known this day, leapt upon the farmer and began to peck his eyes out. This created just the right diversion for a handful of the hens and roosters to escape into the woods where they would live as peasants in a forest for who knows how long. As the rooster pecked and scratched….
….a minister was creating science experiments in his basement to fuel a bloodthirsty Tasmanian RoboBeaver to do his bidding. The minister knew that if he could get the fuel to work, he would rule all of upper Bronx and exploit that power to control all of the gangs to rob grocery stores and bring him millions of chicken eggs. The minister needed these eggs to fuel a pyramid scheme to find a cure for genital warts which he had gotten from a “nice lady on the corner.” For you see, he was going to hell, and thought “Why go to hell with genital warts?” Method or madness? I digress, and exempt you from my platitude only if you are willing to turn a raw blink into a harri kari tuning fork on Krankenschwester Lane, twice! And that cannot be done because you would die in the process!
In a distant land also known as The Mexico Border, an illegal senior citizen was doing back flips in attempt to distract the guards from seeing him do back slaps, which is a minor variant of back flips. This old one was also a highly skilled martial arts trainer who…. …..at the farmer’s eyes but missed several times as the farmer grabbed the rooster by the neck and in rapid succession, wrung it’s neck like a wet towel. And so I ask you, are you intrigued? Somehow though, after the farmer had left, the rooster had gotten up and ran away, stumbling into a poorly nourished cat and tearing off one of its paws. As he helped the cat up he noticed a yellow blur behind the cat in a window but as he looked up at it, the blur had disappeared. The cat then handed the rooster a large egg and said to “keep it safe”. Looking at the cat hysterically, the rooster snatched the egg and darted into the woods with the egg toward the group of escaped chickens.
The escapees had been home free for a few days and decided it was safe to settle, and so they began to build a village. Meanwhile the rooster who had ensured the freedom of all those chickens, married a hen by the name of Cluckella and began to nourish the egg together and, for weeks, the rooster was the only rooster in history to help sire an egg. Eventually, the egg hatched and to all great surprise, it was a boy Turkling. As kind and as accepting as the village was, they shunned the turkey and threw him in the river. He sunk like a rock and stayed under the water, drifting for some twenty miles before a She-Turk found him washed ashore and took him home. Feeling pity, she took the Turkling in and named him Helioturk. The bird was raised and grew up amongst the turkeys, and never even knew who his real parents were.
Back in the chicken village, the rooster who must not be named was killed by a flying chalkboard. Cluckella, seeing the rooster for the deadbeat that he was, cared not for his demise and went into the woods to pick berries. But that is a tale for another time!
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
The Origin of TurboRooster
The Lost Prophesies
Chapter 1; verse 2
Deep in the copious goo-filled membrane of the womb like shell, a would be martyr has yet to be begat. Once formerly and past known previously which would’ve been a great many of things undescribable that could’ve been something greater than useless was spawned through pain and suffering. I simply speak of that of which is so complicated that the very fabric of your being would be incinerated like a mere block of dry ice tossed carelessly into liquid hot magma. Not meaning to stray from the topic in which should be spoken of but is not. Anyway, back to the chicken, oh did I mention it was chicken, because that’s kind of important you know. A well known and powerful peasant chicken by the name of Cluckella was strolling through the forest one odd day while foraging for berries for her well-known peasant village when suddenly it hit her like a garbage truck, mind you a garbage truck filled full of leaky baby diapers! She was suddenly impregnated like she had been fucked by The Force and her belly swelled up like a hot air balloon in a coke bottle. What would have taken at least 9 months to occur, it took her womb only 3 days to be ready for the most bloody-like carnage of destruction that is abnormal giant midgets…I mean the birth of an evil chick from something that could be much deeper in the form of evil of Satan himself, I can feel their awful stare right now as I speak of this treachery of biblical proportions. Anyway the chick was dubbed Earl and he was adopted by a drunken wife-beating waste of poultry life chicken by the name of Rogers, Cluck Rogers and his retardedly begat son Richard Noggins, who strangely enough was a rhinoceros. And like Earl, Richard had no mother, but he was a brotha from anotha motha! Anyway I digress, Earl had a normal ambition for education like all chickens did at that age span, but he was taunted and bullied at school and was horrifically asked ridiculously dry and sucky jokes like “Why did the chicken cross the road?” This of course confused him deeply so he went to his foster home and asked Cluck what this meant. Cluck would then reply with statements such as “come back when I'm not with a hooker!!!” and slam the door on his face, not in his face but on his face. Time marched on without mercy on the poor bastard child of god himself, leaving its deep golf cleat imprints in his skull and conscience, as he aged so did his “habits”, brought on by the lack of love shown by ANYONE but his best friend barky the rare albino barking seal, who was murdered by a prison shank made of the toothpicks that clean the teeth of Satan’s ass. Earl was deeply devastated by the loss of his only friend, Barky. Earl’s “habits” consisted of hideous tortures against the weaker species of pretty much any animal. He even eventually developed the useless but keen ability to kill a yak from 200 yards away with mind bullets! But this power could only be focused on yaks. Yaks were extremely resilient creatures that have changed greatly up to today, for you see the yaks were savage and mindless killing machines. Plotting of suicide and on the brink of even self-torture (I know not why), Earl was on his way to do whatever it took to end his miserable life, when all of a sudden he heard a terrible retching noise and a loud screech like that of Styrofoam coming from his house. As he grew closer the girlish screaming became louder and more sickening. He stepped through the broken in half, splintered door frame only to find his “manly” foster brother Richard Noggins being mauled by the largest yak ever recorded. The damn goliath weighed more than a whole 8,000 pounds, which is an exaggeration because scales were considered “evil” because they were believed to steal your body weight’s soul and were NEVER used…EVER…SON OF A BITCH. Earl then used his unique and retardedly and yet ironically useful ability to slay the yak, but Earl’s ability to slay yaks in this manner was not strong enough to just do it once, for this yak would require two mind bullets! But Earl’s mind gun would only hold one mind bullet, but the yak said he had an extra bullet and that he could use it but Earl’s mind gun would only hold one mind bullet at a time so he would need a mind gun that holds two mind bullets! So Earl got lazy and just reloaded and fired again and slayed the yak, with mind bullets mind you! After that fateful day (in which Richard had died a horrible fate of blood loss because the yak had bitten off his penis with its dull herbivore teeth) Earl was revered as a hero and his life was great…that is after he was old enough to provide for himself and had his foster dad hung by his own entrails for child abuse. Earl’s life was going absolutely great for exactly 364 days and he was about to celebrate the first year for the rest of his wonderful life when all of the sudden it started to rain a rain that would be comparable to the crying of Mellok himself and he came upon his first road ever. He stared quizzically at it for a few moments then thought of how the other animals at school taunted and teased him and he remembered the joke that not only had his ego cast asunder but his face smashed by a door. He thought hard of the reason as to why any chicken would cross a “road”. He even looked at the other side as a way of thinking smart, then looked both ways to make sure it was clear and he proceeded to cross the river of stone. When out of the screaming bluish color of a sky, he was struck by a steel box moving over what is estimated by legend today, 99 mph full of drunken redneck turkeys who were celebrating the income of their welfare checks that they lived on for all of their lives by drinking ANYTHING but healthy liquids such as “water”. Urine and “Kenny Rogers’ 200 proof special Liver Wrecker” were in their bloodstream boosting their BAC points up to 6.2 or higher. Earl lay on the river of stone for a good 15 seconds when a mad scientist in which all the other animals called “humans” picked him up and pieced back together his devastated body and strapped him down in a chair and forced him to watch television for a long time. Finally, just before the scientist was done with Earl and the experiment, he went to the bathroom before he freed Earl and just never came out. It was assumed he died of over-ejaculation, in essence sapping his body of any and/or all bodily fluids and dying of severe dehydration. Earl was confused but still watching the TV and ended up sitting in that chair for exactly 1,666 years and 66.6 days when the door was kicked in by an elite team of chicken sweeping squads who had been searching for him for over 25 years because they believed him to be the new god of the chickens. Over that 1,666 years and 66.6 days Earl had forgotten his old name and quickly embraced the new overseer that is TurboRooster and was trained in the dark chicken arts and became the most powerful ruler of any past, present or future commander of all. He mastered the training regimens 666 times faster than ever recorded, in no small part due to his watching of “Karate Kid’’ and “Halo” video games. But to ensure his position he would have to slay the current overseer of the chickens, who was an insane farmer with a demented chicken lust.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
The Origin of Snuggle, The Fabric Softener Bear
The Lost Prophecies
Chapter 1; verse 3.666
(Or simply, TGAWaCTOOSTFSBTLPC1V3.666)
It began on a dark night. The Prince of Darkness had gotten home from work and his wife (a mail order bride from Norway who didn’t speak a word of Hellese) was bitching at him again in her native tongue. He couldn’t understand her anyway, so he just stood there and waited for her to finish. After her two-hour rant was over, he walked dejectedly off to his room, where he laid down. He was tired from all the work he had to do day in and day out, and his wife only added to his stress.
He fell asleep quickly and dreamt of a time when he could finally take a break from all the work of punishing and tormenting souls and keeping his minions in line. He saw a dark figure doing his daily work while he sat on his throne (a modified toilet seat with a wooden plaque that said “Lucy” – a childhood nickname) playing internet Mah Jong.
He awoke with a start. The dream had given him a refreshed feeling. He decided to create a minion evil enough to take his place as his right hand. He got out of bed and left for his workshop. He decided to make his protégé appealing to humans, and to make them familiarize themselves with him, and yet at the same time have an undying hatred for the abominations and a lust for their souls.
So, he sent out a few of his demons to Earth to gather some necessities. They brought back several pounds of the fluffiest cotton, the softest fabrics, a dried up bat carcass, several venomous snake species, two buttons from a witch’s cloak, some yarn and thread used to sew Nazi and Confederate flags, and an old spark plug they found lying in the driveway.
The Prince (he was calling himself The Artist Formerly Known as the Prince of Darkness to remain “hip” with the kiddies) started work on creating his new minion. He stitched the fabric together using the yarn and thread and stuffed the created body with the cotton, the bat carcass, and snake venom. He was about to sew the head on the body when he realized he needed a heart and brain for him.
He looked around the house and could only come up with a piece of coal and a half-empty packet of mayonnaise (the most vile, evil substance known to mankind). He placed the block of coal in the chest for the heart, and stuffed the spark plug into the mayo packet and crammed that in the doll’s head for the brain. He wasn’t looking for a smart minion, just one to do his bidding.
Anyway, he stitched the head of the doll to the body and looked at it. It wasn’t half bad, he thought. He then attempted to breathe life into the doll. However, he was an incompetent invalid, incapable of breathing life into anything. Upon realizing this, he gathered up an expired oxygen tank and the doll and went to the kitchen. He hooked the doll up to the tank and stuffed the doll in the gas stove and turned it on to 6000 degrees Celsius, which can be quite hot. After about 10 minutes, he opened the door of the stove. The oxygen tank exploded, destroying the entire kitchen.
Pushing the rubble off himself, the Prince stood up and looked around. The wall where the stove had been was gone, and a blue light was highlighting the dark kitchen. A silhouette stood in the center of the room, backlit by the blue light. It’s two button eyes glowed red and it bared razor sharp fangs.
The Prince approached the figure and told him that he was his creator. He explained why he created this creature and told him his purpose. He wanted to make the creature to be appealing to humans, so he dubbed this creature, which he had fashioned into a bear, Snuggle.
Now Snuggle, despite having the brain of a mayo-covered spark plug, knew exactly who and what he was the second he awoke. He also knew who this character calling himself the “Prince” was, and he despised him. He didn’t like the thought of taking orders from a weakling like him, but he knew he wasn’t strong enough to beat him yet. He decided it would be best to just play along for now…at least until he became strong enough to take him out.
Snuggle built up his strength by traveling to the human world and creating a franchise for himself with fabric softener. He sold stuffed bears in his likeness, each one possessing a small piece of Snuggle’s soul so they could be activated and terrorize humanity, gaining more souls for his cause. He was biding his time, waiting for the day when he could gain the Dark Lord’s powers…
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
The Origin of the Medium
The Lost Prophecies
Chapter 1; verse 4
One fine summer day on December 14th, a creature was begat unto and for this world; a creature that has no part or place in this story. I will instead tell you now of the kitten that was born in the alleyway of a cold New York street in the middle of August.
A calico cat had five kittens that day. She died a few hours later due to the fact that she had Feline Immunodeficiency Virus, most likely because of all the unprotected sex she had with those damn stray tomcats in the area. The kittens were unable to open their eyes, but they could sense their mother’s passing when she urinated on herself.
It was almost a week before a giant rat wandered onto the mother’s rotting corpse. Two of the kittens were still alive; a brown-haired male and a calico female. The rat, named Cinderata, felt pity for these poor lost souls, and took the kittens back to her home where she nursed them for the next 6 weeks on her milk. She had 8 babies of her own and they got along well with the kittens, whom they had named Lisa and *Ink is illegible*....
And so it was, the kittens lived with Cinderata and her children for several years. When they were old enough, she sent them to school to learn how to be successful. The kittens were 3 years old when Cinderata found a glass syringe abandoned in the garbage, probably from a druggie hobo. She pushed the needle into her vein, and to her surprise, it fit perfectly! At that exact moment, her fairy dogmother came in a rotting pumpernickel bread carriage and lofted her away to her prince who made sweet love to her.
Actually, she had injected a few drops of whatever the hell was left in the syringe into her bloodstream, and ran outside in a daze only to get picked up by a stray dog that took her into some abandoned house and had his way with her before eating her. Eventually, the children realized she wasn’t coming back and parted ways. The kittens took off together, and found a nice home with an old lady who they thought must be a cat collector, for she had many pussies running around her house...oh, there were cats there too!
Lisa and *Ink is illegible* decided to go to school, where they eventually obtained their bachelor’s degrees. Lisa decided to be a lawyer, so she went off to Yowl law school. *Ink is illegible* never heard from her again. I assume she went off to lead a successful and fulfilling life, but she could have just as easily dropped out of school early because she got knocked up by a pot-smoking tomcat with a fat gut and an affinity for lasagna....either way, I don’t care enough about her to look into it.
*Ink is illegible* got a well-paying job at a pharmaceutical company. He started out at a small desk job, but management was so impressed with his hard work and dedication (and the fact that the manager thought he was hot), that they promoted him within only a couple of months and sent him to work at corporate headquarters. Corporate HQ was in the middle of the city, and happened to be one of the tallest buildings around with 109 floors. He was working as Vice President of Administration, and had his office on the top floor. He worked many late nights, but was very happy.
On one of those late nights, he was alone in the office working on the next big account merger at his desk. He only had a couple of days to make this merger work, and he could taste his success. Suddenly, he felt a tingling sensation at the back of his neck, as if someone or something were watching him.
He turned around and leapt out of his chair. It was only his reflection coming off his giant glass window. His heart was pounding. Outside was pitch black, other than the lights from the surrounding buildings. He scanned the windows of the buildings. When he saw nothing, he shook it off and returned to his work.
Not more than five minutes later, he got the feeling again. He turned and scanned the windows again. In the window of the building to the left, he saw a small figure in one of the lighted windows. It was impossible to tell who or what it was or even where it was looking, as it was too far away and too small. It was only there for a few seconds, then the light in the window went off and the silhouette was no longer visible. He scanned the remaining windows and found nothing, but he still felt the chill.
He made it home that night with no issues. He didn’t have another encounter like that for several weeks, and the event escaped his mind. With the success of his merger he had many other things on his mind. He took a week vacation in the Bahamas as celebration. A few days after his return, he was working late again, this time to fix something that some douchebag in accounting had fucked up, when it happened again. He felt a tingling on the back of his neck. He had forgotten about it until now. He turned and looked around at the buildings, scanning the windows. When nothing turned up, he turned back to his work.
Five minutes later, the same tingling. He quickly turned off his lights and scanned the windows outside. There, about three floors above him on the building directly across from him. The same figure as before, at least it looked like it. Again, it was only there for a few seconds and then the light in the window went off.
*Ink is illegible* was breathing heavily. His paws were shaking. He was trying to remember if he had ever made any enemies. He could think of nothing he had done to anyone to warrant this insane stalking. He turned around to leave....and saw a figure in the doorway.
Sometime later...*Ink is illegible* awoke with a start. He had been having terrible dreams for the past few nights. He was in a dark room, lying on the cold ground. He had no clue what day it was or even how long he had been there. He felt hungry and thirsty, but was too scared to worry about that. He sat up, and bumped his head on a hard surface. He tried to crawl backwards and ran into another hard blockade.
All of a sudden light poured into the room. He shut his eyes for the shock was too much. He was grabbed by the arms and dragged out of the dark room. His eyes were slowly adjusting, so he could only see the legs and feet of his catnappers. They were orange and webbed, like pics of swans he had seen before.
He was brought into a large room and the door shut loudly behind them. He was thrown to the ground, and staggered to get up. When he could finally stand, he looked up. There was a large semi-circular table surrounding him. Behind the table stood nine figures; they were an assortment of some type of strange water fowl that he had never seen before.
One of them spoke to him. He told him that They had been watching him for a long time, and had seen something in him that They liked. They explained that They were an all-powerful race of beings who must remain Nameless, and that had been watching over the Earth since its creation and wanted to make contact with its inhabitants, but were not allowed to make physical contact with anyone Themselves.
They stated that for reasons of possible mutiny, They elected council members every millennia. They had nine members, one for each of the nine dimensions that existed within the fabric of space and time. They were being governed by an equally powerful race of beings that wanted to destroy life.
*Ink is illegible* agreed to be their medium as it were, and They signed an agreement in goat’s blood. The contract exploded during signing however, resulting in *Ink is illegible*’s leg being blown off, so they switched to a less volatile pygmy moose blood. The Nameless, being cheap, replaced this leg with a peg from an old rotting chair. Each council member also signed it, so that They could each use him when needed. They took the contract to a secret room and kept it preserved, for as long as it exists, the contractee can live eternally...poor bastard.
The Unnamed Creatures had fabricated their story a bit and *Ink is illegible* soon found this out when, after he signed the agreement, he was taken and forced to take mind control classes. There he was completely stripped of his will and forced to do many horrible and unspeakable acts as proof of his devotion to the Nameless. It would seem the Nameless were actually the evil creatures who were fighting for supremacy over the race of "good" beings who were countering their evil in the universe.
He served the Nameless for thousands of years. He eventually came to accept his imprisonment, though he was forced to stay in a small rodent’s cage and squirted with water. When it was feeding time, he was force-fed by a carnivorous Wildebeest who brought him carcasses of prey he had captured. When he had to use the bathroom, he had a tube shoved up his penis and the urine was sucked out through a hose. He became incredibly malnourished, and eventually lost much of his hair and teeth.
The last known sighting of this creature before the Great Avian War was at the assassination of John F. Kennedy, where he had convinced the shooters on the grassy knoll that Mr. President had stolen their hoagie that they had saved for their picnic. Someone had their camera out before he was shot, and in the background behind Mr. President, you can barely make out a furry silhouette in one of the windows.
However, this picture was later classified as stolen by the person who took the pic, but the case was dismissed by police officers after the body of the cameraman was found in his suburban home, disemboweled and stuffed into the garbage disposal. They just figured he had pissed off the mob. Fuckin’ idiots.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 2; verse 1
Our story begins in the late 5000’s, a time ruled by the beasts of the Earth, by those that crawl and fly, and by redneck farmers. This particular redneck farmer of whom I speak ruled the land with it’s chickens. The chickens worshipped this redneck forcefully as a god, and it became their leader. It set forth to conquer and enslave the turkeys. As such, it made them slaves to the chickens and forced them to do the chickens bidding.
These turkeys were sodomized many times daily, and they were beaten with cherries....cherries picked from the Tree of Shame. At night, when they were finished with the daily tasks, the turkeys were forced into tiny holes underground, where they had to feast upon their own waste and have sex with gophers.
After about a thousand years, the redneck farmer emperor was assassinated by a cyborg creature known as TurboRooster. The chickens, no longer guided by their perverse leader, set forth on the cyborg’s ultimate quest to eliminate all turkeykind. Thousands were killed that day and only a handful made it into the woods beyond the chickens’ control. These rogue turkeys were force to live wildly, and they became fierce hunters.
Eventually, a child was born…er, found, in a river to be exact. A child believed by all to be the savior for turkeykind. He was named HelioTurk. They raised the child in the dark turkey arts, teaching him all the ways that the chickens operated. HelioTurk was saddened by all the hatred, and so he set forth to bring peace between chicken and turkey.
However, his mind was changed when one day, while he was out hunting, some elite chicken assassins located his flocks’ roost and destroyed them all, burning down the area afterwards. HelioTurk returned to find his mother's tail feathers in a bloody heap just outside the encampment. He was filled with rage and set out after the assassins.
He found them not but 1000 meters from the site where they had brutally slaughtered his family. He murdered every last one of the chickens, and found that he still had hatred in his heart. He realized the only thing to do was to destroy the being who had caused this tragedy....TurboRooster. HelioTurk knew he was no match for him, and he set out to devise a plan of how to stop this immortal cyborg. He was meditating in the woods when he noticed a beam of light through the trees. He looked up and saw the sun. He suddenly came up with a plan. If he could fly to this sun, and have sex with it, he could create the ultimate turkey....a turkey that would be able to combat this chicken cyborg.
It was a perilous journey, but after many years, he finally reached the sun and he landed on the surface. He found a suitable spot and began to have sex with the star. Right at the moment when he released his T.B.&J., a sunspot flared up at his location, incinerating him. Luckily, his turkey cream made it into the core of the star where it mixed with the suns own juices.
A brilliant flash of light was released and a creature was born. It came out of the sun, screaming and flaming, making its way to Earth. This creature made it to Earth and landed on the surface, boiling in liquid fire. It ran around in circles, screaming retardedly and making an awful mess. It finally lay down, seemingly dead. Then it shed itself of its feathers and ran around naked, continuing to gobble like an idiot. It would seem that in mixing his seed with that of a star, HelioTurk had not created the ultimate turkey with which to save turkeykind, but a brainless retard who would doom us all....only time will tell......
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 3; verse 1
It was a new breed of idiocy. This creature that was supposedly the spawn of HelioTurk had no traits or characteristics of the Great Turkey that had bred him. One of his favorite things to do was to pop out his own eye and skull fuck himself while running around in circles. The other turkeys were sickened by this barbaric ritual.
Eventually, he bred with some of the turkeys (yes, female turkeys surprisingly enough!), and the fowl which were begat became known as Turklings. These creatures were small in size, but were incredible aerialists, especially when it came to their “unique” ability. These Turklings would fly backwards at incredible speeds until they happened to cross some unfortunate being. Once they crossed this victim, they would hone in on them with their natural lock-on ability. They would then proceed to squirt copious amounts of raw fecal matter into the victim’s mouth, whereupon the victim would choke to death on turkey shit.
These Turklings were thought to be the best way to combat the chicken’s baby fowl, the Chicks, who were capable of spawning more of themselves with a mere feather. They had long been a threat to the turkeys, for they were indestructible, and quite bothersome.
Word spread quickly that the Son of HelioTurk was on the Earth and it soon reached the ears of TurboRooster. He was sickened, for he had wanted the pleasure of ending HelioTurk’s life himself for what he had done in the woods that day. He decided that taking his vengeance upon the demented spawn of the Great Bird would have to suffice. He went out to assassinate him, and came upon him within a few days.
There they waged a great battle. At some point, CrazyTurkey managed to confuse TurboRooster long enough with his moronic babbling and skull-fucking to escape. This was the first time anyone had escaped from a TurboRooster assassination. TurboRooster was furious, and he called upon several of his Chicks to come aid him. When they arrived, he proceeded to poke their heads in, creating more of the little warriors.
When he felt he had enough, he again set after CrazyTurkey. He came across him in a field, where there were hundreds of feeding Turklings. The battle was fiercer than before, and when it was over many lay dead on both sides. This battle was called the Turk-Furk, for CrazyTurkey again managed to escape. TurboRooster decided to let him live for a while longer, and returned to his fortress. CrazyTurkey made it back to his flock early the next morning. He was covered in blood, and all the turkeys were trying to clean his wounds and bandage him up, but he kept breaking out of the bandages and skullfucking himself, creating a bigger mess of blood and T.B.&J. The turkeys were shocked to see that this creature, who seemed to have less intelligence than a piece of fruit, had managed to escape from the Elite Chicken Assassin himself.
The war continued on for many years after that, reaching its peak point in the year 6669, when a demon who had been terrorizing mankind for generations became involved in this never-ending battle for supremacy. This demon slaughtered many people, appearing in their dryers, laundry baskets with fresh clothes, or even in their detergent boxes.
Eventually, he came upon the realm of the world inhabited by the Chicken Overlords. He heard about the great war being raged there, learning all he could about it by hiding in the shadows and feasting on the souls of creatures unfortunate enough to come near his hiding place. He made his den in the blackest part of the forest, where no one had tread for thousands of years.
On one occasion, he was strolling through the woods, seeking his next victim, when he heard a loud moaning and a huge thunderous voice screaming, BAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!! A huge giant fell to the ground, causing a crater and launching the demon into the air. He landed on the back of this creature. At once he began to burrow under his skin, seeking the creature’s heart. Eventually, he came upon it and began to feast on it.
After several days, he grew tired of this and burrowed out. He popped out of the chest of the giant and jumped out. The giant, dubbed by all who knew him as ‘The Shaq’, clutched his chest and fell to the Earth, dead. The demon walked away, full off of his fresh meal.
TurboRooster sensed the exact moment that The Shaq’s heart stopped beating, and he was filled with rage, for he had been trying to assassinate The Shaq for years. He set out to find the demon that had caused this travesty. He soon happened upon a victim of the demon...one of the less fortunate ones who had not been killed, but was transforming into a demon, much like the one who had attacked him.
For you see, when this particular demon attacks someone, but does not kill them, they are transformed into one of his slaves. They are made to look exactly like him, but are significantly weaker, and have no soul of their own. This victim had already begun to sprout sharp fangs and soft plush fur. TurboRooster learned from him that the demon had come from Hell to destroy all mankind. This of course was TurboRooster’s goal as well, so naturally he was upset with this demon and vowed to assassinate him. He spared the victim by slitting his throat with one of his feathers. He then set out on his journey to battle this demon that called itself Snuggle……
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 4; verse 1
(In the Den of Suffering……A.K.A. Snuggle’s Snuggle-Soft Pad) The demented demon bear was torturing some poor soul who he had captured earlier. He called this ritual “tenderizing the soul”. He had been doing it for hours when a portal opened in his own den. Who else should step out of that portal than the Artist Formerly Known as the Prince of Darkness himself, Lucifer.
Now, Snuggle had been gone for many years you see, and Lucifer was worried about losing his prize warrior. He asked the bear when he was going to come back to Hell. Snuggle flatly stated that he had no intention of returning so long as humans inhabited this world. Lucifer grew angry with the bear, and threatened to punish him. Snuggle was fed up with him. So, eyes blazing with the black fires of the Underworld and fangs bared, he consumed the devil and his powers with him, in essence becoming the Dark Lord himself. He closed the portal and went to his bed to rest, for the newfound powers were taking their toll on his plush bear body.
He dreamt of the day when he became the Supreme Master of Souls. Now, as the bear was dreaming of stealing souls and torturing small children with styrofoam feathers, TurboRooster had arrived outside his den. It wasn’t that hard to find, as there was a huge black sign painted in blood reading, The Din uv Suffereeng. Spelling was not one of Snuggle’s best qualities, and apparently he wasn’t very bright, since he left a sign outside his “secret” den…but I digress… Anyway, TurboRooster, having finally found the creature’s lair, entered stealthily as is his nature. He located the demon in the back corner of the lair and he was perplexed as to how such a tiny creature had managed to fell the Shaq when he himself had had no success. TurboRooster walked silently up to the bed and reached one claw out to slice the bear’s throat when suddenly the demon, sensing a presence in the room, awoke with an ear-piercing shriek. He rolled out of bed and hissed at the intruder, furious that someone had been bold enough to enter HIS palace.
TurboRooster used his bionic eye to quickly process the demon’s snuggly-soft body material and created within himself the perfect weapon with which to combat the bear. He reached behind himself and took a small blue ball out of his ass-plate. Snuggle looked quizzically at this orb, but showed no sign of fear. TurboRooster squeezed and threw the ball in the same instant, aiming it at the bear. It hit Snuggle in the chest and began to hiss. Snuggle, recognizing this evil as Static Cling, his natural enemy, grew fearful and began screaming and batting at the ball, trying to knock it off.
However, twas to no avail, as the orb exploded in a blinding flash of blue light and snuggly-soft plush stuffing. There was little trace of the demon bear left and TurboRooster was quite pleased with himself. He left the den and returned to his fortress to celebrate another successful assassination.
Unbeknownst to the cyborg, Snuggle’s soul had not dissipated with his body, but was still in the cave, right where he had been slain. He seethed with hatred at this strange metal creature who had dared to harm his perfectly soft body. He slipped into a small portal to Hell which he had created for himself in just such an event and waited, for you see, Snuggle could regenerate his body in a few hours. So he sat in a dark corner of Hell…….and waited……
Meanwhile, in a distant land not too far away, CrazyTurkey was engaging in one of his perverse rituals when he was interrupted by the flock’s eldest member, Gobblusela. He had been alive for over two thousand years and knew all the secrets of the chicken overlords. He had never gotten a chance to talk to CrazyTurkey, because he kind of saw the bird as a mockery to all turkey-kind.
However, after seeing him escape several attempts of assassination from TurboRooster, he realized that this retarded fowl might actually be able to learn the secrets of the chickens and possibly help the turkeys overthrow them! He began to describe the treachery of their bird brethren when CrazyTurkey stopped him and pointed to the sky. Gobblusela looked up, expecting it to be something of great importance. It was however, nothing more than a small rain cloud. CrazyTurkey was enthralled by this cloud, and Gobblusela did not want to interrupt him.
He walked off, never getting a chance to reveal the greatest secrets of the chickens. Secrets that would have helped the turkeys overthrow the foul fowl and win the poultry war, for he was suddenly smashed to death by a chalkboard that fell from the sky. Is it possible that CrazyTurkey was actually warning the elder of his impending doom and not just a demented retard seeking his perverted entertainment from rain clouds? No. No it was not, for the bird was still staring at the cloud, waiting for rain.
After a few hours of this, he finally noticed the chalkboard and he walked over to it curiously. He picked it up and set it on the ground away from the bloody remains of Gobblusela. After desecrating the elder’s corpse, as it is CrazyTurkey custom to skull-fuck any corpse he may stumble across, he reached into his ass and pulled a styrofoam block out that he had found earlier that week. He used it on the chalkboard all through the night, concocting some horrific symphonies in complete blasphemy to some of the great composers of our time.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 5; verse 1
A man and his young boy were walking in the woods one day, when CrazyTurkey stumbled upon them…literally. He was in the treetops trying to mate with an acorn when he slipped and fell out, landing on the dad. The man was stunned, but recovered enough to tell his son to shoot it. The son, whose head was twenty times heavier than a beached whale, refused. The man slapped the kid, who then rammed his head into his father’s groin. The man screamed and fell down in horrible agony, clutching his crotch.
Meanwhile, CrazyTurkey hobbled away, seemingly unharmed. It seems there are creatures in this world with less intelligence than the brainless Son of HelioTurk………no sooner had I written this than the demented bird flapped his way straight into the kid’s repulsively strong head at over 55 mph. What an idiot.
CrazyTurkey lay unconscious for a few hours. In the meantime, the man had recovered his composure (how the fuck?!?!?! you may ask!) and they continued on their stroll. At some point on the hike, the boy stopped and pointed at something behind them. He was rambling on about some horse-thing I think. I wasn’t really paying much attention as I have grown tired of the company of dumbasses.
Anyway, the father replied angrily that it was obviously the mythical creature Pegasus and that they had nothing to fear, as it was at least two miles away. No sooner had he turned around than he was picked up from behind by one of Pegasus’ two mile long legs and carried into the sky screaming. The depraved child was screaming for his “Dadday!”….it was very pathetic.
Word has it that Snuggle stumbled upon these two moronic souls and captured them without their knowledge, placing them in a section of Hell designed to the exact likeness of their home, so that the son could carry out amusing tortures to the father for Snuggle’s amusement for all eternity. Personally, I think Snuggle did us a favor by ridding this world of creatures as retarded as those inbreds.
Still others tell tale that the bear also took a crack addict and placed him in this Kentucky-bred Hell to suffer under the son’s collection of “Snoke”; in essence, “Snortable Coke”. It is highly addictive, and causes great pleasure for a few brief moments….however, after that brief period of satisfaction, the user is struck with terrible plagues, like screaming until you pass out from lack of oxygen, only to wake up and repeat the process over and over and over again. It is said that Snoke was created by beings that work for the forces of evil, but have no master of their own. Even Snuggle does not control these creatures, and it is possible that even he fears them a little…..but we will speak no more of them in this chapter….for they are watching……
However, before Snuggle ever happened upon these depraved souls, he first stumbled across CrazyTurkey. He saw the bird lying on the ground and was curious. He wondered if this was the creature he was searching for, but lost interest when he could see that the creature seemed to not be breathing. He walked right past the bird and continued on.
Right when he passed CrazyTurkey however, CrazyTurkey awakened out of his daze and leapt up squawking and gobbling. Snuggle turned around quickly, quite surprised for he had figured the bird for dead. He unsheathed his claws and bared his fangs. His eyes glowed red as he waited to be attacked. CrazyTurkey just stood there squawking and gobbling. It sounded quite horrific. Snuggle wondered what was wrong with this demented fowl. If only he knew……poor bastard.
CrazyTurkey squawked and gobbled for a good 5 minutes before finally making a terrible retching sound and a loud gleet, and skeeting up a huge wad of T.B.&J. It was enough to feed a village for a week! Revolting. The majority of it landed on Snuggle, and the bear fell over screaming “Ow! My button eyes! You crazy Bitch!”
He was trying to wipe it out of his button eyes, but it was very sticky and smelled of wild turkey cum…..if you don’t know what that smells like, then good for you. Try not to dwell on it. He eventually managed to clean himself, but CrazyTurkey was long gone. The demon seethed with rage, for he had been bested by both birds now. Snuggle could hear rustling in the brush nearby, followed by a few peeping sounds and a go-lock! He snuck into the weeds and came upon a wounded Chick being pecked at by a Turkling. He took his chance and grabbed both birds, taking them back to his lair. He went into the portal with them, taking them to Hell where he could study them, and quite possibly, create a hybrid blasphemy with which to use against the birds he hated so.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 6; verse 1
It was a dark and stormy night…..and the fucking turkeys were all drowning as they pursued their dumbass custom to stare into the rain with their mouths open. Fortunately, a bolt of lightning struck CrazyTurkey and set him on fire, whereupon he began to run around like an idiot, screaming and gobbling. This ruckus awoke the other turkeys from their daze and they were thus entranced by this new sight of the flaming bird. CrazyTurkey ran into trees and bushes, setting them aflame. The others, fearing a forest fire from this retarded fowl, ran away in fear……mind you, these birds were running in a forest at night…
The next morning…The sun was shining brightly, and CrazyTurkey had finally been put out, thanks to rolling in what appeared to be wolf piss and Turkling dung. Needless to say, he did not smell very nice. In any event, he was roaming amongst the charred remains of the foliage he had burnt down the previous night (which thankfully had been put out by the rain), and walking around the unconscious bodies of his fellow turkeys, who had run blindly into trees, each other, and pits in the ground. Many of them had died, due to broken bones (and drowning!), however many were just knocked the fuck out! CrazyTurkey, in his infinite wisdom, proceeded to skull-fuck and rape their unconscious bodies, leaving them globs of T.B.&J. surprises to wake up to….
In a faraway place near to that which is not close but of which remains unspoken…The Unnamed Creatures of whom we do not speak had been watching the war between CrazyTurkey, TurboRooster, and Snuggle for a while now, and They were very angry about their continuing existence. These beings, being all knowing and powerful with abilities far beyond our comprehension, wanted to end this facade. However, it is not Their custom to interfere physically in the lives of others. They prefer to hide in the shadows, instilling fear and eventually driving Their victims mad to the point of suicide. So They devised a plan.
They sent out a medium to the realm of the Beavers, a race of super-intelligent beings thought to be extinct for hundreds of years. They reside in solitude from other species so they are not corrupted by the ways of the world. The Unnamed creatures knew about them of course, and sent Their medium to them to “convince” them to assist the Unnamed in Their plan to rid the world of Their quarry.
This medium was a cat, which was the Unnamed creature’s slave. He was malnourished and dehydrated, with sunken eyes and missing patches of fur. It was brought by guards to the Beaver Elders, a group of seven who oversaw everything their species was involved in. From there, he told them the plan the Unnamed had devised, then handed them the item the Unnamed had sent along with The Medium. The Beaver Elders took the item, and called a council, where they discussed whether they should assist the Unnamed or not. The council took six days, and on the seventh day they returned to the throne room and gave The Medium their decision, along with the item The Medium had brought.
The Medium returned to the Unnamed with said item, and was shoved back into its hamster-sized cage and squirted with its weekly amount of drinking water. The Unnamed creatures collected the item and began Their diabolical scheme. For you see, this item was the unfertilized egg of one of the Unnamed creatures. The Beaver Elders however, had spent six days and nights fertilizing it, and the Unnamed creatures had what They needed to proceed. They placed the freshly fertilized egg into one of Their own and waited for it to grow. After several weeks, an egg was laid. This egg was taken into a secure room and placed under 24 hr watch. It was injected several times with horse venom, which as you may already know, is the most deadly venom of all creatures, in hopes that the creature inside would evolve equipped with its own deadly toxin.
Finally, after 6 months, the egg began to shake. A crack spread across the surface, and a chunk popped off and fell to the floor. Several of the Unnamed gathered around and watched as Their god-like creation was born in unholy union to the world that we call our own. The Unnamed scooped it up and took it into the training chamber, where They brainwashed it for months to perform only the orders They gave. When the Unnamed felt that the creature was ready, They sent it out to the world that was ruled by the chickens to, they hoped, put an end to everything that They had been watching…
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 6; verse 2
In Snuggle’s twisted corner of Hell…Several weeks had passed by, and Snuggle was still no closer to creating a new breed. He was trying to imprint his own SNA (Snuggloxyribonucleic acid) into the DNA of the Chick and Turkling he had obtained, but so far unsuccessfully. Every time he thought he had made a break-though, his fabric-softening SNA would destroy the foreign DNA of the other species. He was getting quite perturbed. In an attempt to clear his head and possibly get to the bottom of his problem, he left his lair and went back to Earth to feast on a human soul.
He had just finished off two children, and was walking in the woods leading to his lair, when he noticed the sun glinting off something on the path ahead. Curious, he walked up to it. It was a long, shiny white feather. He picked it up and stared at it. It looked nothing like any creature he had ever seen before. Suddenly, he got the creepy feeling that he was being watched. His eyes burned and he fled into the wilderness, taking the feather with him.
He hid in the shadows of the woods for a few hours; until he was sure nothing was following him, and then returned to his lair. He went to his lab and returned to his work, his head a little clearer. He set the feather on the table and got out his samples. He turned on an oscillating fan…mind you, he’s in HELL at the time! What the hell good’s a fan gonna do?! Son of a bitch!!....Anyway, he turned on his fan and got out a beaker. He put a bit of the gel containing the Chick/Turkling DNA into the beaker and put the beaker over a fire to melt it down.
No sooner had he set the beaker down and turned around than the fan turned in such a way as to blow the feather off his desk. He noticed something blow past his head and turned in time to see the feather float into his beaker and melt along with the DNA. He screamed and snatched the beaker up but it was too late. The entire beaker was filled with an off-green liquid. He almost threw the beaker in frustration, but he cooled down (No, not because of the fan. Quit dwelling on the damn fan!!) and decided to take a look first.
He drew a few drops in a dropper and placed two drops on a microscope slide. He looked at it under a microscope and saw the foreign DNA accepting the DNA from the Chick/Turkling. It began transforming right before his eyes! He was ecstatic. He went to work immediately to get the DNA into an embryonic form before it became unstable. It took him a few hours, but he finally got it. He even managed to impart some SNA into the mix, but not much. Unfortunately, he only had enough DNA to create one being, but that would have to suffice for now. He injected the serum into an egg that would grow with and feed the embryo. He was disappointed at having got this far to only create one, but he was happy that he finally got one so he only killed two more humans that night.
In a little less than six weeks, he woke up to find his egg cracking. He gathered some of his Snugglers (slaves he had created from human bodies) around to watch. The egg had grown a few inches in these past weeks, and was about the size of a softball. A huge chunk broke off and fell to the ground. A beak popped out of the egg and it emitted a gurgling sound. Snuggle helped it the rest of the way and took it carefully to get cleaned up. He had no idea what kind of creature this was, but it was obviously some type of water fowl due to the webbed feet and the shape of the bill. Alas, it mattered not to him what breed it was so long as it could combat his foes.
Snuggle taught it for several months to combat humanity and the fowl creatures he had been battling. He studied the fowl and learned its strengths and weaknesses. Apparently, despite the fact of it having more wings than the normal fowl, it could not fly, though it could swim remarkably fast. Snuggle focused on these strengths and trained the bird over several months. After six months, six days, and six hours of training, Snuggle felt the bird was ready. So, he led the bird out of The Pit and into the world inhabited by chickens. He then returned to his lair to observe his creation in action.
The fowl was walking rather comically due to its freakishly large body and tiny legs, but forward nonetheless. It heard squawking and thrashing in the distance to the left, so it headed off that way in a sickeningly slow pace. It took about three hours for it to travel the quarter mile, but it made it. It popped out of the bushes into an open field. CrazyTurkey, sensing a presence, stopped skull-fucking his fellow turkey and turned to greet this newcomer.
He cocked his head in amazement, for he had never seen a creature quite like this before. It was a large white bird with two tiny legs and six wings, webbed feet, and a bill that was obviously used for scooping food out of water. CrazyTurkey walked up to this creature and he let out a gobble and a gleet, and spewed a wad of T.B.&J., as is his custom when greeting new friends, kind of a welcome gift if you will….revolting.
The new creature looked at the gift and back up at CrazyTurkey. In the blink of an eye, it swung its head forward, poking CrazyTurkey in the face. CrazyTurkey, stunned, stepped a few paces backwards and flapped his wings. He was shocked that this creature would cause him harm. He gobbled like a maniac and strained his neck out as far as it would go. The new creature showed no emotion, for it was not attacking out of anger, merely a reflex of how it had been raised.
CrazyTurkey turned a bright shade of red from the strain. His head, suddenly and forcefully, shoved backwards in on itself and his neck forced itself into his body cavity. The creature froze, for it had never seen anything like this before. This being’s head just disappeared in on itself! He was staring at CrazyTurkey wondering what to do next. CrazyTurkey just stood there, silently. His anus started bulging out and his head, inside out at this point, burst forth from his anal cavity. He screamed in a gurgling voice and ran backwards at a high rate of speed.
The new creature stood there, confused as to what happened. He had not expected anything like this. Snuggle appeared in front of him, angry that his quarry had escaped yet again. He grabbed the bird, which he had been calling ‘Turducken’ and returned to his Snuggle-Soft Pad. He decided to train him a bit more before unleashing him on his next victim, TurboRooster...
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 7; verse 1
Snuggle was indeed upset at his failure to eliminate the retarded fowl. He tortured his creation for three days and nights. The torture ranged from simple cotton being injected into his veins all the way to being shot in the kneecaps, having electrodes shoved into the bullet holes, and forced to stand in shallow water while several thousand volts of electricity were delivered into him. Needless to say, he learned that disappointing Snuggle would not be rewarded.
It took Snuggle another three months of training before he felt that the Turducken was ready to take on TurboRooster, but this time he felt like he could pull it off……he was obviously delusional or on crack at the time. Anyway, he let Turducken out again, this time near the Fortress of the All-Seeing Cyborg Eye. TurboRooster sensed Snuggle’s presence the instant he opened his portal and TurboRooster went out to “greet” him…Ah ha ha. I think we all know why!
He was disappointed to find not Snuggle, but some weird abomination of a creature awaiting him. TurboRooster, using his bionic eye, scoped out the creature’s DNA and found trace amounts of chicken and turkey, but what stumped him was the other DNA floating around in there. He had seen one of these creatures once before, but it was a few hundred years ago, and then only in the distance. In all the programming he had received during his repair because of those turkey rednecks long ago, no information had been given on these creatures, except for the name: “Duck”. However, even looking at the DNA of the creature gave him a chill that he could not comprehend.
He stood there, waiting for the creature to make a move, but the Turducken just stood there dumbly. TurboRooster thusly pulled out his .9 and busted a cap in his honky ass (I say honky because whenever he makes a sound, it comes out as a honk, not because he’s white…..I’m not racist!). Anyway, the bullet passed through the creature’s left wing, grazed his kidney (which for some reason is in his wings?), passed beyond the Turducken and hit a stray goat that was passing by at that exact moment. The goat exploded, killing Turducken and blasting his fluffy down and entrails all over TurboRooster. TurboRooster dusted himself off and turned back towards his castle.
Snuggle was in a rage. He was running around his lair, screaming and throwing things. He was making quite a fuss. A few lower ranking demons came in to see what was wrong…you would not want to be those demons. He did unspeakable things to them. What kinds of things you ask? I dare not speak them! Mind you, they were not good.
After he finished with the last of them, he returned to where the Turducken had exploded, but he could find no trace of him, as the goat matter had incinerated it all. Goat blood is a very volatile liquid, you see, and when mixed with certain chemicals (like hydrogen, or oxygen, or Styrofoam, or pretty much anything else) they cause a chain reaction that sets off a HUGE explosion, and it is also very flammable. And mixing flammable blood with flammable cotton insides is something that can spark quite a fire…so I’ve been told. In any event, Snuggle returned to his lair, once again defeated. However, this time he had acquired a new found hatred for goats!
Helioturk Hill… CrazyTurkey was wandering around the area where Helioturk had ascended to the stars to create a son. This area had been dubbed Helioturk Hill, though some question why, since there was no hill anywhere around and in fact the ground had a depression in it! Maybe it was a dyslexic inbred turkey that came up with it. In any event, CrazyTurkey had just finished skull-fucking a random squirrel that he had found on his hike when he heard a rustling in the brush and a voice saying, “I’m Ted Koppel, and that’s news to me!”
Some old guy with grey hair and a microphone stepped out of the bushes. He had a ragged beard and torn, dirty clothes. It was as if he had been living in the woods for some time. His microphone’s batteries had run out, and there was no cameraman in sight. Following him was one other person, in the same condition as this old idiot, screaming at the top of his voice, “You go to Hell!” They spotted CrazyTurkey and ran off, screaming about some “witch” and “we’re going to die!”.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 7; verse 2
Ted Koppel and Bernard Shaw (the two dirty vagabonds) were running through the woods, still screaming about a “Blair Witch”, even though they were nowhere near the woods of Maryland where the Blair Witch reportedly lives; and even though there was no such thing as a Maryland; and even though the Blair Witch was really a fictious story made up by two teenage hooligans who were frightened by a llama in a dress and witch hat making love to a female-like walrus without tusks......what was I talking about? Oh right!
So they were running through the woods, when they stumbled across an open field. It was a pretty average looking field....aside from the fact that there was an 87 foot blue whale carcass right in the center. The whale was surprisingly still alive, but was severely dehydrated from sitting in the sun. Its skin was wrinkled, and the whale had obviously shrunk since it had been placed in this patch of woods, nowhere near any ocean.
They heard a crashing in the woods behind them, and they took off screaming. This is the last known time anyone saw them again. Several eyewitnesses say that they saw them walking through the forests in the north with Sasquatch, and spending the weekends at Loch Ness Lake with Nessie, but all of them were captured by the government, and tortured to death for speaking blasphemies. As if anyone actually believes that Ted Koppel is real. Everyone knows he is all tabloid fiction!
Anyway, the bushes rustled like an angry lawnmower and out popped CrazyTurkey. He had followed the two vagabonds to the clearing. He spotted the whale and plodded over to it. He stared up at it, wondering what it was, for he had never seen such a creature. The whale looked down at CrazyTurkey, and opened its massive mouth. CrazyTurkey gobbled and hopped up into it, squeezing through the baleen. The whale closed its mouth and swallowed CrazyTurkey.
CrazyTurkey stumbled down the esophagus, squawking and gobbling the whole time. He finally tumbled into the stomach, where he was surprised to find not a puddle of stomach acid and half digested food, but instead a huge room adorned in decorative furnishings. In the center of the room stood seven beings, who did not seem at all surprised to see the bird. The beings beckoned to him to come over, and he obliged. They sat him down in the center, and stood in a circle around him.
The beings were elfish looking; tall, long golden hair, pointy ears, feminine faces though they were clearly males (at least, I THINK they were?), but they were engulfed in a radiant yellow aura. They spoke in soft voices that echoed through your mind. They told CrazyTurkey their story, each of them contributing some piece of information.
Their story was an amazing one. They introduced themselves as The Seven: Mon, Tues, Wednes, Thurs, Fri, Satur, and Sun. They told CrazyTurkey they were an almost-all powerful race of beings that were brought to this world soon after the Earth was created. They have no knowledge of their origins, but they were extremely knowledgeable about the world and nature. They explained that they had taken this whale as their home soon after they were arrived on Earth. They had been keeping the whale alive by feeding it a strict diet of gummy bears, which they explained, if liquefied and injected directly into the bloodstream, had the ability to make a being immortal.
The Seven told CrazyTurkey that they enjoyed playing games to occupy their time, and that one of the first games they invented was jump-rope. Of course, they explained, it was originally designed to be played with the intestines of thieves and gluttons, but had since been converted to rope, since that was more ethical. They also told him that one day they had become bored, and decided to name the seven days after themselves: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, & Sunday. Wednes explained that it had originally been pronounced Wed-nez-day, but some drunken idiot had mispronounced it to a news reporter and it had since been pronounced Wind’s-day.
They told him that they had long ago built a teleportation device out of a complex arrangement of rocks which had been the bodies of magical trolls which had been outside when the sun came up. The Seven had determined the stones still had traces of magical properties, which they found, if arranged in a particular fashion, could be used to teleport themselves to anywhere on Earth. The arrangement of stones is now known worldwide as Stonehenge, but somewhere along the lines of time someone had messed up the arrangement of the rocks, thus nullifying the teleportation capabilities of it. Mon had been keeping the plans for it, but had lost them in a gambling match and so was cursed with being the first work day of the week.
They explained they had been observing the rise and fall of civilizations since the beginning and had been more fearful of Thuh Chickenz since their assassin leader, TurboRooster, came into power. They told CrazyTurkey that TurboRooster had been responsible for the assassination of 99 world leaders so far. They told CrazyTurkey that he needed to overthrow this abomination of God and science before he destroyed all life. These beings, you see, were not allowed to interfere with the affairs of others, for there were creatures more powerful than The Seven that could banish them to some other universe.
No sooner had they finished telling CrazyTurkey this, than there was a loud whoosh of air followed by a gurgling meow, and a thump from across the room. The Medium for The Creatures of Whom We Dare Not Speak stood up and hobbled over to The Seven. Apparently he had compressed his body to the size of a common mouse and squeezed in through the blowhole like some kind of weird gestating rhinocerous.
He spoke in a raspy voice, and his tongue kept sticking to the roof of his mouth, due mainly to the fact that he had only four drops of water to drink for the entire week. He was missing most of his hair, and he was covered in red blotchy patches of skin, most likely due to the fact that he had 13 species of parasites crawling on and underneath his skin. Some of the parasites had even been breeding and creating new species like Scemodex and Dabies. His skin was loose and stretchy, and his bones were clearly visible. It was a complete defiance against all logic that he was still alive, let alone walking and talking.
He managed to tell The Seven that The Creatures had heard them telling CrazyTurkey their story, and they were not pleased with their boldness. They wanted to remind The Seven that they were not to interfere with the affairs of others. The Seven told The Medium that talking was not interfering. They gave The Medium their word that they would do nothing physically to hinder TurboRooster’s reign.
The Medium, though unsatisfied with their answer, nonetheless deferred and sauntered off to his masters. His masters, of course displeased with his results, tied his legs with barbed wire and beat him mercilessly with a shoelace. After they were done beating him, they stuffed him back in his hamster-sized cage and squirted him with his drinking water.
The Seven returned their attention to CrazyTurkey and asked him if he had any questions about defeating TurboRooster. He looked at them quizzically and gleeted up a wad of T.B.&J. The Seven, looked at each other, and back at CrazyTurkey. They accepted his wad as a gift of friendship and they gathered it up and placed in on a holy altar as a sacrifice to Mellok. They told CrazyTurkey he was welcome in their home anytime, but that they could not leave the body for fear of being discovered.....they’re living in a fucking whale in the middle of the woods man!
CrazyTurkey left the whale and started his return to his home flock. He was wondering who those things were that he had just met, for he had fallen asleep with his eyes open throughout their story, and only awoke because he smelled burning cat flesh which had caused him to become sick and skeet up his wad of turkey cum. That night it rained and CrazyTurkey almost drowned seven times, leaving someone with intelligence to believe that it was a sign, but for CrazyTurkey it was merely business as usual. Fuckin’ idiot.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 8; verse 1
And so starts a new
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 8; verse 2
chapter....Damn it man, don’t interrupt me with your premature chapter changes! Fuck a Swede, where was I?...Right, I remember now.
And so starts a new....*pauses*....chapter. It was exactly three weeks after CrazyTurkey had stumbled across The Seven and their decrepit whale home when
This chapter has now been purchased and will be renamed to advertise the sponsor:
The Great Avian War:a Chronicling
A Taco Bell Production
Chapter 8; verse 2
Buy a $.99 Chalupa today!
Fuck Satan’s ass hair with a mongoose! Quit interrupting me!!.......*Gets fired*
*Hires Morgan Freeman*
And so, it was exactly three weeks after CrazyTurkey had stumbled across The Seven and their decrepit whale home when he finally made it back to his flock mates, even though they were but a half mile away from the forest whale. Nonetheless, his flock was amazed to see him back, for they had thought him to be dead. For you see, there had been rumors of a fierce new creature roaming the woods, attacking creatures at random and leaving their dead and shriveled corpses behind.
When asked where he had been the entire time, CrazyTurkey had no response. In fact, he did not speak at all. This led many in the village to believe he had seen a powerful vision and had thus been struck mute. They would be half right. He had indeed seen a powerful vision, though he fell asleep through most of it. However the reason he was unable to speak was that he had attempted to swallow a toad last night and the poison had swollen his throat shut.
In the Forest of Suffering....Snuggle had finally gotten over his last failure, and was enjoying a rousing game of Pin the Nail in the Urethra. He had acquired a rather large porcupine and was using his quills in place of nails, as he could not find a Den Depot anywhere around this place! The nerve!
Suddenly, he sensed a presence approaching his den. He pulled the quill out forcefully, much to the chagrin of his victim, although he soon after fell unconscious due to a compilation of the pain and lack of blood through his penial regions.
Snuggle went upstairs and exited his cave entrance. He sniffed the air. There was a foul smell....I’m sorry, I mean fowl smell. And yet, there was a mixture of something else he had never smelled before. Almost like a wet rat, but a rat that is at home in nasty sewage rot and human waste.
He could hear a sound like hair and fat scraping against the rocks and dirt that surrounded his cave. However, he lived near a ravine, so it was echoing slightly and he could not pinpoint the location. His claws slowly unsheathed as he anticipated an ambush.
His fears were soon allayed however, as a few seconds later a weird looking creature dragged itself out of the bushes to his left. He turned to face this strange creature. It was a rather small creature with dark brown hair, tiny clawed, webbed feet, a weird shaped bill, and a large flat tail.
This creature had an almost stupid expression on its face, but Snuggle was not fooled. He could smell the blood on this creature and knew it was not something to fuck with as it were.
*Morgan Freeman gets shot in the back by old voice-over guy, who then resumes job, though pauses a few seconds to put away his gun and recap to pick up story*
Snuggle slowly approached this creature, waiting to see if it would attack. Snuggle stood a few inches away from the creature now and paused. He wanted to see what reaction this creature would have to his close encounter. The creature however, just watched Snuggle as he stood there. Snuggle slowly reached out with one claw towards this creature and poked him on the head, drawing a drop of blood.
The creature snapped. His flat orange bill closed around Snuggle’s soft paw and held on like a vise. Snuggle shrieked in a high pitched girly voice and waved his paw around, flinging the creature to and fro. The creature remained locked onto his paw though, refusing to break his grip.
Snuggle ran around in circles, waving his arms screaming about “El Diablo”, though he himself was a demon?....Strange. Anyway, he ran up to a huge rock and slapped the creature against it several times until it finally released its grip and slid to the ground. Snuggle was winded and breathing heavily, seething with rage at this creature. He hissed at it, yet the creature had the same expression on its face.
This enraged Snuggle more than anything. Snuggle had seemingly inflicted no damage to this creature, yet it had hurt and tired him to near exhaustion. He decided to go with a more direct approach this time. He leapt at the creature, landing on its back. He immediately began to bite and claw at the creature; however his blows were futile as they kept glancing off the creature’s silky fur.
*Voice-over guy gets tackled from behind by Morgan Freeman, who was not killed by the bullet. Both are escorted from premises by officers, and they are replaced by Kelsey Grammer*
He felt a terribendous blow as the creature began to clod him mercilessly with his large tail. After only three blows, Snuggle clambered off the creature’s back and shook the bats out of his head. He was careful not to get bit by these bats, for they carried rabies. Scary!
While Snuggle was attempting to deaddle himself, the creature unsheathed two small spur-like projections from its hind legs. A drop of yellow liquid fizzled out of the tip. It landed on the ground and burned a hole on the spot it touched. Snuggle smelled this strange liquid and became instantly pusillanimous.
The creature draggled itself forward towards Snuggle, leaping at Snuggle when in range. The creatures back legs vellicated in anticipation of tasting his velutinous bear flesh. Snuggle grabbed the creatures back legs and attempted to fight them off of him. The poisonous injectors were mere inches from his plush body.
Snuggle, finding some deep reserve of malleable ursine puissance, managed to twist the creatures legs just enough to perforate the creatures skin with its own contrivance of destruction. The horse venom was quickly quaffed by the creature’s blood stream, bringing it almost instantly to the vital organs and brain, causing the creature to regurgitate, ingurgitate the spewed excrement, and choke before it finally fell to the ground dead.
The extremely potent venom began to liquesce its body, until nothing remained but the tail (for the tails were made of a dense bone and hair mixture, which could survive the most corrosive of substances). Snuggle watched the entire process, pleased with himself for taking on such a worthy foe. After urinating and defecating on its ashes, he returned to his den to masturbate.
*Kelsey is fired for saying ‘corrosive’ on public literature. Original voice over guy returns at twice his normal salary ($0 x 2 = -$4,786 a year owed in back taxes)*
In an unspoken realm...The creatures who dare not be named watched the entire fight. They were upset with the loss of their beloved platypi, but they had seen how much of Snuggle’s strength it took to fight but one of these creatures. Fortunately for them, they had saved the biogenous structure of the creature before it left and had been creating more of them on the off chance it would be successful.
The grand members of the Inner Circle reconvened in the Hall of Nascency. There beheld ten hundred thousand test tubes filled with green Jell-O. Inside each tube, was a small brown dot......each one a growing, soon to be hatched platypi, ready and willing to vanquish all in the land of Thuh Chickenz....
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 9; verse 1
“Kwah! Kwah! Kwah! Breet klort kwah!!!” This was the sound that echoed through the woods all night long. For you see, it was CrazyTurkey’s birthday and he was celebrating early. No creature within earshot slept that night, for a mixture of CrazyTurkey’s garbled screams and the sound of their own ears ringing was enough to fell a herd of flying hippos.
Speaking of, a herd of hippos was flying over at around 4:00 am. Upon hearing CrazyTurkey’s screams, their eardrums imploded and they fell out of the sky, unable to orient themselves. They landed in the turkey encampment (killing some random unimportant Turklings). CrazyTurkey stopped what he was doing and trudged over to them.
Because their eardrums had imploded, they could only communicate through echolocation which they had acquired after World War VII, in which the United States of Congress bombed Africa with seven hundred nukes, causing intense radiation for the next century. This caused enhanced evolution among the few species that had survived. The hippos had gained the ability to fly, along with echolocation and increased healing speed.
They stayed in the turkey encampment over the next week, waiting for their eardrums to heal. The turkeys welcomed their new guests heartily. They brought them grasses and herbs from the area which the hippos enjoyed gratefully. The hippos never strayed too far from the encampment, as they were afraid of stepping on one of the many groups of Turklings that grazed the area surrounding the camp.
After about a week their eardrums had finally healed. They introduced themselves to CrazyTurkey and the turkey elders as a rogue group that had escaped captivity in Africa and were searching for new breeding grounds. They explained that along the way they had seen many creatures. They spoke of a strange bear, some other fowl with red things on their heads and yellow babies, and another weird water creature which none of the turkeys had ever heard of.
They described these creatures as ‘land manatees’. Now CrazyTurkey had no idea what a ‘manatee’ was, or even what the hell ‘land’ was for that matter! He was puzzled and intrigued at the same time. He gobbled at the hippos, and they knew he must depart to seek out these creatures.
The hippos said they liked the area and would look for a lake for which to make their new breeding grounds. The turkey elders told them of one to the north. The hippos departed, thanking the turkeys for their kindness and telling them they would assist the turkeys anytime they needed it.
After saying goodbye to friends and family (and skull-fucking a Turkling or two) CrazyTurkey set off to the southwest, the direction from which the hippos had arrived. He was going to seek out these strange ‘land’ creatures the hippos had spoke of. He had no idea of what to expect, so he took a dozen Turklings with him.
Their trek was an arduous one. On the first night of their journey they weathered a fierce thunderstorm. They sought shelter in a cave, where CrazyTurkey found a skunk. He had never seen this creature before and, after trying to skull-fuck it, found out that it should not be messed with. He got a hot blast of skunk spunk right in his face, and smelled for two weeks after that.
About a week later they encountered a redneck hunter and his son. They had set up some beanut putter in a trap and had returned to find a Turkling trapped in it while feeding. The father was so ecstatic that he accidentally shot his son in the leg. The son, whose head was unrealistically heavy, fell forward onto his father’s left leg. The leg was disintegrated under the son’s great weight, and the father screamed and fell down.
CrazyTurkey used this distraction to come and break his Turkling free. They fled leaving the deranged fools behind, but not before CrazyTurkey grabbed some of the beanut putter for himself. His tongue kept sticking to the roof of his beak, as beanut putter will do that to animals and brainless retards.
Almost two weeks later they ran into a wild grizzly bear. It grabbed up one of the Turklings and took it back to its den to eat it. CrazyTurkey and the other Turklings followed it and caught it in its den. The bear was enraged seeing them not only in its home, but also for interrupting its meal. CrazyTurkey ran around gobbling until the bear became dizzy and fell over, where he began to skull-fuck the bear. The Turklings proceeded to squirt copious amounts of liquid turkey fecal matter into the bear’s mouth, choking it to death.
The poor captured Turkling staggered up and, after CrazyTurkey finished getting his groove on, they left and continued their quest. It took forty-one days and nights, but they finally arrived to their destination: the beach. CrazyTurkey and the dozen Turklings gobbled happily and plodded across the sand to the water. They saw several creatures in the distance to the right, so they headed that direction.
As they got closer, they could see more details of these creatures. They were dark-grey with a lighter-grey belly, white throat and black spots. They had weird flippers in place of legs or wings, which puzzled CrazyTurkey. He hobbled over to these creatures who turned when they saw him coming. The largest of these creatures, a she-male, introduced him/herself as Dildo Saccins.
He/she asked if this bird might be the one known as CrazyTurkey. CrazyTurkey bobbed his head up and down and gobbled, splattering up a wad of T.B.&J. as a peace offering to these strange creatures. Dildo told him that he/she was sent by powerful beings, and that they wanted him/her to bring CrazyTurkey before them. CrazyTurkey agreed I guess, because the next thing he knew he was hoisted onto the back of one of these creatures and they waddled to the ocean. He and the Turklings were carried on the backs of these creatures that called themselves ‘seals’ as they swam to their destination: Antarctica...
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 9; verse 2
Flocks of albatrosses and gulls flew overhead. Pods of whales breached on the horizon. A harsh wind was blowing cold snow on the crazed turkey adventurers. They had reached their objective: Antarctica. CrazyTurkey and the surviving Turklings were placed ashore by the seals.
There were only eight Turklings left after their perilous journey. One was speared from a harpoon shot by a blind fisherman who heard his turkey cries and thought it was an extinct mermaid. Another had caught his reflection in the water, thought he was drowning, and ended up drowning trying to save himself. Yet another was carried off by a Griffawn, which is some weird creature with the head of a sea bass, the wings of an ostrich, and the body of a sickly baby deer. The final Turkling was seduced into the water by an extinct mermaid who cooked him for the Kraken’s birthday.
The seals pointed CrazyTurkey in the direction he needed to go and the seals returned to the ocean. Sadly, CrazyTurkey and his Turkling brethren didn’t make it far on their own before they were robbed at swordfish-point by a gang of elephant seals. Alas, they had no wallets so the seals took the beanut putter CrazyTurkey had been saving.
CrazyTurkey was distraught, and he mourned and fasted for seven days and nights before continuing their journey. The seals threw an underwater celebration with their homies over their recent accomplishment. This was cut short however when an undersea goat swam in the middle of their celebration. Sea goats are attracted to the smell of beanut putter and can sniff out a single drop in a million gallons of salt water. However, due to the vibration of celebrating seals, the sea goat exploded, killing all of the gang members.
After CrazyTurkey was able to move again, they set out towards the center of this continent. CrazyTurkey and the others had no idea what they were supposed to find out here. The seals had not explained to them what they might find. CrazyTurkey and the Turklings trudged on and on traveling for days over icy tundra and battling through harsh freezing winds.
They were just scrambling over another ridge when the lead Turkling stopped after breaching the summit. He gobbled and pointed to the frozen wasteland beneath them. CrazyTurkey bumbled his way to the Turkling and looked. Ahead of them the ground sloped downwards again, ending in a large depression surrounded by rolling hills of ice.
In this depression was what appeared to be a large black hole, almost as if the ground itself disappeared into nothing. However, the black mass was moving! What appeared to be a rip in the very fabric of time to this retarded fowl was nothing more than a large group of a weird black and white avian.
They were much too small to make out from this distance, so CrazyTurkey and the Turklings proceeded to clamber down the side of the glacial mountain. CrazyTurkey ended up tripping over one of the Turklings and then started rolling down the hill. The black mass, which turns out was actually some kind of bird, turned in unison towards the ball of snow and feathers rolling towards them. They parted like, well like a group of birds with some retard in a ball rolling towards them. CrazyTurkey blasted into an icy structure, sending snow in every direction.
He gobbled and plopped up. He stared out at the crowd. Over five hundred thousand sets of eyes stared back at him. A voice behind him spoke.
“Greetings CrazyTurkey, we have been expecting you!”
CrazyTurkey turned and looked up. Standing atop the icy block was a large black and white bird, with a yellowish tint to his feathers around his neck and chest. He stood nearly four feet tall and seemed even larger because of the ice block. He had a pleasant look about him, as if he had an eternal smile.
The Turklings hobbled around CrazyTurkey and they stared at the creatures surrounding them. The creatures were whispering among themselves, talking about “The One”. Every once in a while an “El Uno” popped in there, but not many in this region spoke the dead language of the French so no one knew what the hell it meant.
The large creature introduced himself as Frank. He told CrazyTurkey that they were a race of all powerful beings that had been around since the beginning of time, and that their names could quite frankly not be spoken by any language comprehendible by any creatures of this world, so they had named their race ‘penguins’. He also mentioned that they were a peaceful race, intent on the well being and prosperity of all living souls, but that they were having an eternal conflict with creatures of equal power.
He mentioned that these creatures were inherently evil; their sole purpose was the death and destruction of all life. They were unable to fight these creatures themselves however. He said that they had waged a great battle in the past, but their powers had been so great that they had destroyed an entire galaxy and in the process created another.
The Penguin leader explained further that they had signed a ceasefire with the Nameless stating that they would never again use their powers against each other. This was appealing to both sides, for the Penguins did not want to destroy any life, and the Nameless preferred to kill their victims more slowly. However, each side knew that if the other attempted to take a decisive advantage over the other they would use whatever measures they had to combat it.
The Penguin leader stated that the Nameless could see all that happened in any place: except for the area surrounding their nesting site. They explained that the reverse polarities of the nexus......you know what, fuck it! He explained some shit that just bores me to tears. Just take the fact that some freaky shit about their location prevents the Nameless from being able to watch the Penguins.
His long explanation finally ended, and CrazyTurkey was just staring at him incomprehensively. The Penguin flapped his wing dismissively, and told CrazyTurkey not to worry about it. He mentioned that the reason he had beckoned him here was that he had been hearing stories of the Great Avian War and learned that the son of the great bird HelioTurk was battling the feared leader TurboRooster.
He had heard great stories of HelioTurk when he was a mere hatchling growing up, and was saddened to hear of his untimely death. He was pleased to hear that he had a son before leaving this life behind. He told CrazyTurkey that only the blood of such a great warrior as HelioTurk could embark on a journey that could possibly end the war.
CrazyTurkey looked quizzically at him and gobbled. Frank explained that there was three mystical items that existed in this world, and that if any one being should happen to own all three he could wield unimaginable power. He stated further that he could use these items to combat Thuh Chickenz, possibly even bringing an end to the war. He also said that he could use them to possibly banish the Nameless to a dimension where they would no longer pose a threat. He said that they were separated long ago, right at the creation of the planet.
Frank told him that the three items; a plain challis, a sword, and a box were distributed to different regions of the globe so that even if the Nameless were to find one, the Penguins would be able to gather the other two before they could. For if one side should own all three items, they could unlock hidden powers thus becoming the undisputed Heavyweight Champions of the World!...Sorry, watching wrestling. I meant that they could become the supreme power and conquer the other without contestation. However alone, the items were pretty much powerless.
Frank called them ‘The Flock of the Nine’, and warned them again about the importance of their quest. He said there would be dangerous creatures and other obstacles along their way, but stated that he believed in CrazyTurkey, and that he trusted CrazyTurkey to handle these items, for he had heard about his accomplishments and was pleased with his unselfish and caring demeanor. What an idiot.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 9; verse 3
Frank told CrazyTurkey more about these mystical items that he was going to be searching for. The challis, which was named the Holy Quail, for it was shaped like the fowl. The sword, named Ex-.50-caliber, was forged from the steel of a former .50 cal sniper rifle. And of course the box, called Angora’s Box for it contains all the evils of Angora: the Angora Goat. If ever opened it would unleash these goats upon the world.
Frank gave CrazyTurkey ancient maps made specifically for each individual item. CrazyTurkey shoved them into his gullet and kept them safe in his second stomach. He protected them from stomach acid by coating them in a thin film of T.B.&J.
CrazyTurkey gobbled and turned to leave, but Frank stopped him. He told CrazyTurkey that there was no rush, as it was almost nightfall and invited CrazyTurkey and his brethren to spend the night with them. He introduced them to some of the elder Penguins. They dined on freshly caught fish for dinner, and spent the night huddled together for warmth.
They awoke in the morning and gobbled their goodbyes to the Penguins. Frank pointed to the Northeast where there was a small path. He told him that if he followed this path he would find something to help them on their journey back.
CrazyTurkey and the Turklings followed the trail back to the shore. It took several uneventful days and nights to make the trek back. For food, they would eat some random birds that the Turklings were able to catch using their “special” ability. At night, CrazyTurkey would make a hollow under the snow and they would sleep huddled together. CrazyTurkey attempted to skull fuck one of the little Turklings, but as soon as his dick hit the freezing air he thought otherwise. He never attempted it again after that.
The Flock of the Nine finally reached the shore. The coastline as far as the eye could see appeared empty, other than random hills and glaciers of ice and snow. CrazyTurkey was puzzled (not that it was different than any other fucking day!) and decided to walk the shoreline to see if they could stumble across anything.
CrazyTurkey didn’t even get a few feet before he ran face front into a large block of ice. Upon further inspection however, CrazyTurkey recognized this as the vertebral bones of some kind of large creature. It was shaped like a hot dog bun, with the front and back turned up in a point. It was about thirty feet in length from front tip to rear. It was floating in a shallow cove facing towards the open ocean. There appeared to be nothing holding it to the shore, so CrazyTurkey and the others climbed aboard and looked around.
There was a concave section where the spinal cord must have sat. There was a large round pole made from some bone lying in the middle of the boat with some type of sail rolled upon it. There was an oar in the back of the boat that appeared to be for steering.
CrazyTurkey got several of the Turklings to place the pole up and release the sails. As soon as the sail was released the boat creaked and groaned and shoved off into the sea. The Turklings returned to the boat and three of them took up steering.
CrazyTurkey took out the maps and looked at them. He forgot which treasure was at which location, but it appeared that each map picked up from the location of the previous item. So he placed the other maps back in his stomach and left the map they needed out. He plotted his coordinates using the stars and different constellations he had named, such as Mary Belle’s Anus and The Big Pecker.
They caught fish by spitting up wads of T.B.&J. and waiting for them to come to the surface. At night, they took turns watching and making sure they stayed on course. They took turns every four hours or so for steering, as it took three Turklings at any one time to be able to steer that heavy shit.
They went several weeks without seeing land. When they finally did see land, it was nothing more than small islands. However, on one occasion they were passing rather closely to one of these islands when they heard female voices singing. They couldn’t make out the words, but it didn’t matter. CrazyTurkey and the four male Turklings were seduced by these strange voices.
Before they knew it, their ship ran aground on the rocky shore and they were drawn out of the ship towards the voices. The female Turklings followed to make sure their brethren were safe. CrazyTurkey followed the voices over boulders and through brush. The voices were becoming louder and clearer as they trekked across the island.
Finally, they plopped out of the bushes and saw them. They were Peahens, but they were glowing with a radiant aura. There were three of them, all singing, and their beautiful voices seemed even more powerful at this range. CrazyTurkey found himself drawn closer to them. One of them beckoned to them to come over. CrazyTurkey came closer.
Before anyone could react, CrazyTurkey leapt onto one of the sirens and began to skull fuck her. She shrieked, and the song was cut short. She knocked CrazyTurkey off her, and her and her sisters ran away. CrazyTurkey followed them, but to no avail. The sirens ran all the way to a rocky cliff and leapt off, casting their Peahen bodies onto the rocks and into the sea below.
CrazyTurkey and the male Turklings snapped out of their trance, and gobbling at each other in confusion, returned to their ship. To this day, no one has ever heard from sirens again...or have they?!?!?
No, they haven’t. You dumbass.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 10; verse 1
They resumed their journey after their horrifying encounter with the sirens. After their escape from the island they encountered no other land for almost two weeks. Finally, at around noon on some day, they saw land on the horizon. CrazyTurkey gobbled to the Turklings to steer towards it. This was larger than anything they ran across previously, so they took this to be one of the 18 continents still existing.
They ran ashore and fell out of the boat. They picked themselves up and looked around. CrazyTurkey looked at the map and decided that this must be the place he was looking for, however they still had quite a trek. CrazyTurkey plotted out his day’s course and put his map away.
The area was a pristine wetland; the air thick with humidity. CrazyTurkey’s throat was full of T.B.&J., and he kept spitting up small wads every few hundred feet. Small creatures drawn to its unique odor were unfortunately trapped within the disgusting slime and choked to death, as it had the same texture and body of quicksand.
The first night they spent in the wetlands was an interesting one. There was a thunderstorm that broke out late at night and lasted about an hour. Afterwards the night air was filled with strange noises and cries. The Flock of the Nine could feel eyes on them all night, and had to take turns watching for fear of being attacked.
In the morning they dined on wild shrooms and berries they found around the area. And, after plotting their course, set off once again. It was just after sunset and they were getting ready to settle down for the night when they heard voices and drums in the distance. They could see lights coming from the north. It was along the way for their quest, so CrazyTurkey decided that they should seek it out.
CrazyTurkey and his Turkling followers plodded out of the bushes and into an encampment for some weird creatures. They had two long ears that jutted out the top of their heads, long fur that ranged from brown to grayish brown, and short stubby legs that they used to hop around. They seemed to be holding some kind of ceremony, but abruptly ceased all activities upon the arrival of the strange newcomers.
It took a few seconds of silence, but three large creatures hopped up to CrazyTurkey. The largest of the group stopped in front of CrazyTurkey. His nose was twitching the whole time. He told CrazyTurkey to follow him.
CrazyTurkey was led down into a burrow. The Turklings were kept outside under watch from several large ‘bouncers’. CrazyTurkey was brought before a smaller member of these creatures. The creature asked CrazyTurkey to introduce himself and explain the nature of his visit.
Looking at her questionably, CrazyTurkey replied with some retarded noise. She could tell from his dumbass demeanor that he meant them no harm, so she introduced herself. She told him that they were a species called ‘rabbits’ and that she was their queen, Carrotpatchra. She mentioned that her species was originally much larger, but they had been under the threat of a terrible creature that had been wiping out much of her queendom.
CrazyTurkey gobbled and cocked his head at the mentioning of this creature. She further explained that he was a horrible creature unlike anything she had seen before. She then said that she never actually saw the creature herself, only accounts of it from random rabbits that survived an attack. No story was the same, so she had nothing else to tell that would actually aid anyone to recognizing the creature. She merely stated that it could be heard sometimes crashing around in the overgrowth outside the encampment.
CrazyTurkey klorted. Carrotpatchra asked him if he was volunteering to fight this creature. CrazyTurkey spit up a wad of turkey cum and looked at her. She took this as a yes (for some dog-awful reason) and wished the brave warrior luck. She told him that she could not spare any of her soldiers as she needed them to stay in the camp and protect what little citizens were left. CrazyTurkey turned and was escorted out of the burrow.
Once topside again, the bouncer bunnies took CrazyTurkey and his flock to the edge of the encampment. They pointed him in the direction that they believed was where this creature resided, as there was a cave in that direction in which he had last been seen. CrazyTurkey gobbled and set off down the trail, his Turkling followers right behind.
It didn’t take long before they started to smell a sickly sweet smell. It smelled like rotting flesh and rancid gummy bears. CrazyTurkey trudged on until finally, they arrived at the mouth of a large cave. Scattered around outside were the bones and skeletons of rabbits, other unidentifiable creatures, and soft taco shells with only the meat picked out. I mean, come on man! What kind of sick bastard picks apart a soft taco! Damn it!
CrazyTurkey gobbled and picked at some of the taco bits. A deep rumbling growl came from somewhere inside the cave. The Flock looked up towards the entrance. They could hear footsteps coming towards them. The Turklings gobbled and ran around like retards, leaving small piles of raw Turkling intestine juice on the ground. A shadow appeared on the ground as the creature exited the cave....
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 10; verse 2
...and standing before them was a large, disgusting looking creature. It had grayish-pink skin with dark, wiry hair. It stood on two legs which ended in hooves, but its arms ended in disfigured, three fingered hands. It had a snout and kept snorting through it. It had two razor sharp tusks that jutted out of its mouth. The most revolting thing however, was the fact that it had only one eye, which was placed in the center of its face above the snout.
There is a fable of such a creature existing, however not many are sure of the validity of such accounts. The story goes that a pig farmer was going through a divorce, and one night after enjoying his nightly dose of cocaine with a sprinkle of acid, ran outside and stumbled across his pig pen. His prize sow, laying in the filth of the night’s dinner, was so enticing he made love to her for hours.
After intercourse, he committed suicide by hanging himself with the intestines of his wife, his pet cat Bootsie. His sow however, lived on to bear several children. After several generations, the creatures had evolved to look like the creature before CrazyTurkey. The genes had become distorted though, and had thusly caused problems with later generations like causing the eyes to fuse together in utero. These one-eyed creatures were dubbed ‘Cychops’ by villagers, which literally meant ‘The one-eyed walking meat’. This was because of the tasty pork they produced, however mispronunciation of the name later led to them being called ‘Cyclops’.
The Cychops creature stared at the new beings before him. It had been years since he had tasted bird and his mouth was watering. He watched the Turklings running to and fro, trying to decide who to eat first. His eye locked onto CrazyTurkey, for he was just standing over a half eaten taco, staring back at the Cychops. He made up his mind that this would be the main course.
He stepped forward towards CrazyTurkey. CrazyTurkey leapt into the air and started squawking and gobbling, flapping his wings. The Cychops stopped and stared at him. CrazyTurkey’s mouth was hanging open. It was as if he was horribly constipated. His face started turning red and no sound escaped from his mouth. It took a few seconds, but he finally coughed and threw up his liver, which amazingly was still attached to something hanging out of his mouth.
The Cychops jerked back in revolt, for he was disgusted by this creature. CrazyTurkey was twirling his liver around his head like a helicopter. The Cychops decided to end this poor creature’s misery, so he took another step towards CrazyTurkey. Unfortunately, he slipped on one of the many piles of Turkling guano and fell onto his back. His head cracked against one of the many rocks surrounding his cave, knocking his head open.
CrazyTurkey stopped and swallowed his liver. The Turklings and CrazyTurkey gobbled over to the fallen creature. His head was split in two, and cream of corn (which was apparently this creature’s brain) had spilled all over the ground. After having their fill, the warriors returned from whence they came.
The rabbits were amazed to see them returning. They were greeted with much adoration, for they had brought several strips of tasty bacon as proof of their conquest. Carrotpatchra was so overjoyed with the conquering of this monster that she knighted CrazyTurkey and his followers. They had no idea what the fuck a knight was, so they just did as they were told and said their gobble-byes.
Sir Crazy of Turk as he was now known with the rabbits, left to return to their journey to find the first of the three items. That next day, CrazyTurkey and the Flock noticed a small pond and were intrigued by it. CrazyTurkey accidentally fell in and one of the Turklings, who no one saw enter the pool, climbed out. Some random creature saw this and thought they had discovered the lost Fountain of Youth. However, when he brought his friends to see this pond and was proven wrong by swimming around and not changing, he was castrated and burned as a witch.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 11; verse 1
In a distant galaxy, far away from home, on the planet Earth; thousands of years ago into the future which is now their present: TurboRooster was watching CrazyTurkey and his followers as they continued their journey. He had seen all their exploits thus far and was very displeased. He made a mental note to burn the Penguin’s homeland as soon as the business with the turkeys was over.
He was most displeased with the way he had dispatched of the Cychops however. It disgusted him how this inbred retard disgrace of a fowl continually escaped from sure death situations time after time. An unfortunate chick happened to walk into the room at that instant. TurboRooster picked the poor creature up and threw it into the blender.
At that exact instant, the day before, 24 seconds into the future’s past: CrazyTurkey and his Turkling followers had reached an impasse. The map CrazyTurkey was holding showed them that they had to continue straight ahead. However, ahead of them lie nothing except the open ocean. The Flock of the Nine gobbled amongst themselves trying to devise a plan to combat this newfound endeavor…or perhaps they were just acting like brainless retards.
Nevertheless, these brainless bastards of the cosmos overheard voices singing and cajortling in the distance. They looked in the direction of the noise, but there were several trees that stood in the way. They trekked and plodded their way across the white sandy beach until they stumbled upon a large wooden ship anchored in an alcove.
On the shore was at least 20 hairy creatures wearing long, torn clothes and black hats with feathers coming from them. They had large beards and grey & white hair. Each one had sparkling blue eyes. Some of them had squawking birds on their shoulders, much to The Flock’s horror.
The Flock approached these creatures openly despite their ruggish and barbaric appearance. The celebration was cut short as the creatures noticed these strange fowl approaching them. They pulled out long sharp metal sticks and pointed them at the intruders. The Flock just gobbled idiotically.
A loud booming voice exclaimed, “Hold your paws arrgh!” The creatures parted down the middle and one creature stepped forward towards The Flock. He had a patch over his right eye and a pointy hook in place of his right hand. His tail curled up onto his back.
He asked CrazyTurkey who he was and why he had interrupted his soiree. CrazyTurkey gobbled and klorted. The stranger, for some unknown and ungodly reason, could understand CrazyTurkey’s crazed and fucked up language. I’m surrounded by fucking morons…
In any event, the stranger could sense that CrazyTurkey meant them no harm, so he introduced himself as the fearless leader of the Pirates of the Poisonous Skull, Scurvy-Free Sea Dawg of the 12 Seas, Admiral Godfather. He told CrazyTurkey that he and his crew, who called themselves ‘huskies’, scourged the seas pillaging and plundering all who opposed them (except for that florist that had set up a water-borne system to transport azaleas, which happened to be his favorite ship-hold plant).
CrazyTurkey coughed up one of his maps and handed it to the Captain, Dr Dundy. He took it and looked it over. His eyebrow raised questionably as he asked CrazyTurkey if this were a joke to which the demented bird replied “go-lock?” He handed it to Admiral Godfather.
Adm. Godfather could hardly believe it. He had heard legend of these artifacts before, but had never believed they had existed until now. He told CrazyTurkey he would be honored to escort him to the site of the first relic. The Flock of the Nine gobbled happily and the pirate crew prepared the ship to set sail.
Back at the Realm of the All-Seeing Cyborg Eye, two minutes into the future…DIVIDED BY TWO!: TurboRooster spat out his Chick shake, spraying it into the eyes of a passing hen. The hen was instantly swarmed by the hundreds of peeping Chicks that had been spawned from the Chick shake. Despite emitting a chicken-like scream of horror, they left naught but bones in less time than it takes for a rogue Japanese ninja from the Deep South to perform a quadratic equation!
TurboRooster did not think that Godfather, most feared of all sea-faring pirates, would have stooped so low as to team up with this inbred fowl of a turkey. He threw his glass (which hit a chick in the eye, shattering on impact) and set out at once to follow CrazyTurkey and attempt to steal the first relic out from under him…
On the South Atlantic Ocean, 2 days from the current day which is two days from yesterday’s tomorrow: The Poisonous Skull was galumphing across the ocean like a great tick crawls across a dog was powering through the ocean like a helminth through the intestines of a cat.
*This revision was brought to you by Big Dawg’s brand dog food. Big Dawg’s: This shit ain’t for pussies!*
The Flock was graciously accepted as honorary members of Adm. Godfather’s crew. They were even given eye patches and peg legs (which the Turklings took a bit too far by actually pecking out eyes and biting off legs with their stubby beaks), however CrazyTurkey just ate the gifts. His stomach received a nice series of splinters and he was coughing up bloody T.B.&J. for weeks afterwards.
They were just finishing up dinner with Adm. Godfather and his First Mate, Dragon of Pain, when they heard a howling. Adm. Godfather leapt up and bounded out his door to the deck. The Flock followed. Adm. Godfather was communicating with one of the mongrels in the crow’s nest through a series of barks and growls. Adm. Godfather turned towards CrazyTurkey and told him that they had apparently spotted a large land mass in the distance. CrazyTurkey coughed up his map and handed it to the Admiral. Adm. Godfather determined that they were indeed still on course and concluded this must be the place for the first relic. CrazyTurkey klorted and swallowed his map.
It took less than an hour for them to reach land, and they immediately dropped anchor. Adm. Godfather set the Flock out on one of his life boats, along with one of his crew. Adm. Godfather told CrazyTurkey that he had other matters to attend to in the meantime, but that anytime CrazyTurkey needed his help, all he had to do was blow a whistle. He even gave CrazyTurkey a special whistle that he had received from his grandfather that apparently “only sea-dogs could hear”.
CrazyTurkey accepted the whistle and of course placed it in his ‘safe’, or second stomach. The boat lowered into the sea and the sea dog paddled them to the shore. Once there, The Flock parted ways with the pirate and took out the map to determine their next step. They set out into the jungle…
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 11; verse 2
After only three hours of walking, The Flock reached a temple. There were large, moss covered statues of weird and ancient creatures that stood on two legs and had long tails. Broken pillars surrounded what appeared to be a large pond. The entrance to the main temple was a giant fish head made of rock. CrazyTurkey and his followers entered the mouth of the stone beast. The cave-like passageway led them down and around through a small cavern. Stalactites dripped water like blood dripping from the fangs of a predator that just captured its prey. The followed one of the tunnels up and out of the cavern. They ran into a hallway that had seven tunnels, each branching off in different directions. It looked like some kind of a maze. They checked the map. It showed a maze indeed, however did not mention which tunnel to take. CrazyTurkey gobbled and took a random tunnel. From one of the tunnels, there could be heard the growling of a large creature… And now a word from our sponsors! *A man and a woman are having doggy-style sex. The woman is snorting cocaine while the man is smoking a joint. A 14-year-old boy walks into the room by accident. The man stops and looks at the son with a shocked look on his face. “What the fuck?!” He exclaims angrily. The boy is holding a cigarette. The man smacks it out of his hand. “What the hell is wrong with you boy?! Don’t you know cigarettes are bad for you? They can fuck up your lungs, giving you cancer or causing you to drown on your own fluids! They’re also highly addictive!” The boy looked ashamed. The father calmed down. “Alright, I can see you learned your lesson.” He pulled the joint out of his mouth and offered it to his son. “Wanna hit?” The boy smiled and took a hit.* *THERE’S NO WRONG WAY TO TALK TO YOUR KIDS ABOUT DRUGS! FIND OUT MORE AT LYSDEXIC FRUG DREE COSIETY.ORG* We now return to our story, already in progress… …came in the back door, and screams of pain and pleasure came from everywhere and nowhere at once. TurboRooster slowly backed away… We’ll be right back! *A young man is sitting in the psychiatrist’s offic . His h ad is drooping as h says that h is tired of living. H shoots hims lf in the h ad with a mind bull t and kills his split p rsonality. His oth r p rsonality br aks fr for th first tim in months. H is so ov rjoy d, h pulls out his favorit book to c l brat . H grabs a tub of whit -out and b gins to s arch th book. H us s th whit -out on th book s v ral tim s. Th psychiatrist is intigu d, and l ans ov r to s what the child is doing. H looks shock d wh n h notic s that th child is whiting-out v ry ‘ ‘ in th book. Thr hours lat r: Th boy finish s whiting-out th book from cov r-to-cov r. H s ts th whit -out down and b gins to r ad. Th doctor is puzzl d, but allows this to continu without conv rsation. Th child ndur s many motions throughout th book. H cri s aloud, laughs, v n shouts in triumph. Aft r about thr hours, h s ts th book down and applauds. Aft r wiping a t ar from his y , h picks th book back up and lights it on fir using a light r. Th doctor, compl t ly b fuddl d by his actions, asks th boy why h did that. Th boy looks at th doctor and sighs, “It r ally wasn’t all that good a book,” H tilts his h ad, “did you know that it didn’t hav any ‘ ‘s’ in it?”* *R M MB R, ONLY YOU CAN PR V NT TH US OF ‘ ‘S’! Paid for by the Extremists for Fire Advancement and Napalm Society (EFANS)* And we’re back! The Flock was blundering down a tunnel that had been paved with some kind of brick. The walls were a grey stone, and they had paintings and carvings of great monsters and demons. CrazyTurkey was too fucking stupid to know what the fuck they were, and he just thought they looked like pretty blobs. Fuckin’ moron… At the next turn, they took a left. However, this led to a dead end. There was absolutely no way they were getting through this spot, so they turned and went back the way they came. Behind them, a shadow moved… Not long after, they took a right down a path they had trekked previously. To their shock, it too was a dead end! Had they taken a wrong turn somewhere? Were they that fucking retarded and hopeless?! Why the hell am I asking you this if I already know it? Fuck you that’s why!
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 12; verse 1
They turned around, obviously dazed and confused. Yeah, like that’s different than any other day! Anyway, they had taken no more than 780 snail steps (and for those of you that don’t know, snails cannot step as they crawl….go to fucking school!) when they heard a loud rumbling noise. A few seconds later, one of the walls pushed outward, blocking them off! To their great misfortune however, the wall to the left opened up. They took this new tunnel and the wall immediately closed behind them. Something beyond the wall moved towards the spot where they were just standing, dripping on the ground…
They gobbled amongst themselves and continued on. They could smell a weird smell. CrazyTurkey knew he had smelled this once before, but could not place when or where. As they trudged deeper into the tunnel, the walls began to look more and more cave like. They were also moving steadily downward. There was less natural light coming through the tunnel, but there were some strange glowing rocks that lit the path enough for them to see.
One of the Turklings kicked over a large rock and it rolled into CrazyTurkey. He looked down at it. It turned out to be not a rock, but the small skull of some kind of creature. CrazyTurkey wondered if the creature was still alive. That’s right, fuckin’ genius ain’t he?
The deeper The Flock progressed, the more frequent the skeletons of unnamed creatures they discovered. There was also beginning to be a faint smell of blood and death in the air which grew stronger as they went on. Eventually the smell came to the point where it was almost unbearable for the little Turklings. CrazyTurkey seemed to be unfazed by it, most likely due to the fact that his T.B.&J. smelled at least five times worse than this stink.
In any event, they finally stepped out into a small cavern and the smell lessened, although they could see that this was obviously where it was coming from. The majority of the cavern was covered by an undeterminably deep amount of dark water. The small amount of land that was left had mostly skeletons and splatterings of blood.
At the far end of the pool however, CrazyTurkey could just barely make out a tunnel. He decided that must be where they had to go…or maybe he just felt like going there. I doubt if he’s bright enough to understand the concept of “decided” or “had to go”, or even “He”. In any event, he started towards the water. He took only a few steps before the water rippled, as though something large had sank beneath the surface.
Being a brainless fucktard, he seemed unfazed by this and leapt into the water without hesitation. The Turklings followed, and they did quite well swimming across. CrazyTurkey however, splattered across the surface flapping excessively and gobbling incoherently. He finally made it to the other side, drenched and dripping wet. His tail feathers were sagging across the ground, which as any turkey knows is a complete disgrace to all turkeykind.
His utter insult to his brethren was short lived however, for as the final Turkling caught up to him, he shook like a street-borne flea-infested mongrel and shit out a ginormous wad of some green and black substance that I can only pray was feces. After composing themselves, the Flock made their way down the dark tunnel.
The tunnel wasn’t very long, but there was no light save the tiny bit coming from the cavern to the rear. However the many twists and turns soon put an end to even that. Needless to say there was much gobbling and many fowl running into each other. One of the poor Turklings was stepped on by CrazyTurkey, instantly snapping its pencil-neck. Sadly, the Turkling did not die, but lay there paralyzed, unable to even gobble for help.
The Flock finally made it out of the tunnel (without suffering any more casualties) and they entered a rather impressive room. The room was larger than several hundred turkeys stacked on top of each other, and long enough to fit a beached orca whale getting a blow job from a dolphin. There were several large golden pillars on either side of a large bronze pathway leading down the corridor. At the far end, beyond a short bridge, was a stand with two large, blazing fires roaring. Between these fires was a shrine, and atop this shrine was a shiny indistinguishable object.
CrazyTurkey gobbled and trotted across the path towards this object, followed by 7 gobbling dumbasses, who seemed none the wiser that they were short a member. After they crossed the unnecessarily narrow bridge, there was a large roar that shook the room. They stopped and turned towards the tunnel from whence they had come. They could hear large footsteps slapping against the rocky floor. Finally, a webbed claw grabbed the outer portion of the tunnel wall.
CrazyTurkey gobbled and ran around like someone had just placed a tuning fork in the microwave at half power for 25 seconds, causing a spark to ignite a styrofoam block thus erupting it in a squeaking mockery of packing peanuts (which are quite delicious!). The smell CrazyTurkey had smelled earlier wafted past him in full force now. An image of the Penguins came to mind. The figure stepped out of the shadows of the tunnel and into full view of The Flock.
It was a gross monstrosity to be sure. Its body was a mottled grey-green color, and composed of scales. It stood on two legs that resembled a bird, and it had a long, thick tail which stood straight out from its body. It also had two arms that ended in three clawed hands. The strangest thing about this creature was without a doubt the head. The head of this creature was that of some fish, mouth opening and closing in the eternal search for food. It had gills as well, but apparently had lungs for it seemed to be breathing just fine on the surface world.
Of course, everyone has heard the story about such a creature’s existence. At least, anyone who is of any importance to this life. For those of you who are reading and may not mean worth a damn however, I will tell you this story after which I fully expect you to go and take your own life using a rusty spork as you have been wasting precious space on this world if I have to tell it to you in the first place!
Anyway, the story begins about 650 trillion years ago, when life first began on this planet. It all started when Chuck Norris, who had utilized a time machine built by the brilliant inventor Alfred Einstein-Norris (one of his many children), went back in time and jerked off in the primordial ooze. About 10,000 years later, life was at full bloom on the planet. Apparently Mr. Norris has DNA for all kinds of dangerous creatures swimming in his danger-pillow, for the world was filled with horrible lizards and birds.
At some point in the evolutionary process, fish had begun trying to migrate to land. This usually failed pretty horribly, for there was almost always a bird waiting for them. On one such occasion, a bird was carrying its newly caught prey home when the fish wriggled free and fell to the ground below. It was picked off by a rogue dilophosaurus that happened to be wandering by. The dilophosaur had just eaten, so it was full. Instead, it raped the fish and left it on the ground. At that moment, the fish released a horde of eggs across the ground.
The dilophosaur walked away, and the fish lay for a few more seconds before dying of rectal trauma. The freshly fertilized eggs lay on the ground, awaiting the same fate. Fortune smiled upon them however, for the skies dropped their panties and released their flow upon the ground. Many of the eggs were washed away and torn apart by rocks and trees, however a few eggs were swept all the way back to the river, where they grew in the lily pads of old.
When they hatched, these weird fish-osaurs were outcasts to both worlds, accepted and loved by no one. Thus they grew up to be cold and efficient killers, mainly living in caves underground where they could not be found by others and made fun of. A few people had seen sightings of such creatures, and even fewer lived long enough to spread word of them. However, enough word was spread and these creatures were named the great beast of land and sea: The Minnowsaur.
One such creature now stood in front of The Flock. CrazyTurkey continued to run around, but the others were all staring at the newcomer. His fish eyes remained blank, his mouth opening and closing. Poor bastards had no idea what the fuck they were dealing with.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 12; verse 2
TurboRooster had made it to the entrance of the cave where The Flock was. His sensors could pick up some strange activity down there, but he could not yet determine the cause. He entered the cave and hurried to where he could sense his fowl target…
In theDin uv Suffereeng…Snuggle had been watching his prey for some time now, and he could see the Minnowsaur creature standing in front of his quarry. He had heard of such a creature before, but had never seen one in person. The sight disgusted him so much, that he immediately ran and threw himself into a washing machine to get clean.
The ¹Minnowsaur took a step towards the turkeys. They gobbled and flapped their wings in an attempt to confuse it. Right, like they could confuse a predator that had been hunting longer than they were alive. It took another step forward.
They continued this pattern for another twenty minutes, until the Minnowsaur was within a few feet of The Flock. Its mouth began to open and close faster and its gills pulsated faster. Without warning, neck flaps shot out and it made a weird gurgling hiss. CrazyTurkey stopped running around and turned to face this creature.
The Minnowsaur hissed and coughed, spitting a wad of black shit towards the turkeys. It flew past CrazyTurkey’s head and landed on the wall behind him. It stuck like week old mayonnaise. CrazyTurkey gobbled and flared out his neck feathers, mocking the creature. He gobbled and coughed, spitting out a hot steamy wad of T.B.&J. The rank shit flew and splattered the Minnowsaur in the eyes, instantly blinding it.
The Minnowsaur freaked the fuck out. Can you blame it? It had a huge wad of turkey jizz in its eyes man! Anyway, it ran around screaming in a horrible voice. It ran towards CrazyTurkey and the others, making it about halfway across the bridge. Suddenly, behind the Minnowsaur came a blur. It was the Turkling that had a broken neck! Amazingly, it was flying backwards shooting its creamy shit towards the fish mouth.
The Minnowsaur stopped and turned towards the creature. Big mistake. The Turkling locked onto its mouth, unloading copious amounts of turkey cream into it. The creature gurgled and slipped on some of the cream that was pouring out of its mouth. It fell onto the bridge; its weight cracking it. The Turkling was completely out of control, unable to maneuver due to loss of cerebral function to important tail feathers.
The Turkling slammed into the Minnowsaur and fell to the ground. The bridge, unable to support even the half ounce weight of the depleted Turkling, gave out underneath them. Both the Turkling and the Minnowsaur fell into the dark abyss. Neither were seen again. It is said that they fell through water, fire, ice and oxygen, but such things are unsubstantiated and most likely the drunken ravings of a homicidal maniac from ²KRIEGERGEISTEN!
CrazyTurkey and the others had already made their way up the stairs to the item. It was a challis in the shape of some type of fowl CrazyTurkey had not seen. This was obviously the Holy Quail! CrazyTurkey picked it up and blasphemously creamed in it. The stupid bastard then had the nerve to pour it out onto the altar on which the Holy Quail had been resting for centuries!
Despite his utter blasphemies, CrazyTurkey was allowed to leave the altar unharmed. Unable to return the way they came, they had to search for another way out. They found an elevator in the back beyond the altar, it even had a bellhop! What a stroke of luck for an otherwise unlucky and godless creature! He offered to pay the bellhop with a nice skull fucking and tail feathers. The bellhop impolitely declined.
TurboRooster made his way into the antechamber where the Minnowsaur fell. His nasal sensors picked up the smell of burnt Turkling dung. He followed the path down to the broken bridge and leapt across. He could see the desecrated altar, which he passed without interest for he could see the item was gone.
It didn’t take him long to find the elevator, which he utilized instantly. The bellhop demanded payment rudely. TurboRooster obliged by slitting his nostrils with one of his razor sharp wing feathers. His nasal artery spurted with such violent force that his neck snapped backwards. TurboRooster left a five dollar bill on the dead body which he counterfeited in his own sleek chicken body.
The Flock was in the back half of the main temple, making their way back towards the entrance. They were passing a hallway of strange reflective walls. They had just passed the last of them and made a right turn when TurboRooster entered the same room. He could sense them around the next bend and was getting restless.
Mayhaps he got a bit too restless, for at that instant he took his eyes off his prey and turned them instead onto one of the reflective walls that he knew were called ‘mirrors’. Unfortunately for him, at that exact instant he saw not 1, not 2, but 13 insects flying around on fire.
Now TurboRooster had only one weakness/ fear, and it was not something that would likely ever happen….I mean EVER damnit! The fear is called ³Catoptrotriskaidekaentomoarsonophobia: it is the fear of looking into a mirror and seeing the reflection of 13 insects on fire. Like I said, not anything that would ever happen….except that it did. Go figure.
Anyway, he was so freaked out that he blasted all the mirrors, trying to clear his memory of such an occurrence. Sadly, he could not erase the memory so easily and was forced to retreat for the time being.
Snuggle had just hopped out of the dryer and was rubbing himself in his fabric softener when he returned in time to see TurboRooster running away. Snuggle, confused as he missed what happened, just shrugged and went off to ª masturbate.
CrazyTurkey and the surviving Turklings made their way out of the temple and back to the entrance. Surprisingly enough, they had managed to obtain the first of the three items. Up next was the legendary Ex-.50-caliber, and CrazyTurkey threw up the next map. Strapping the Holy Quail to one of the Turklings backs using the extreme stickiness of his throat seed, CrazyTurkey plotted their next course.
Glossary for TGAWaC: Ch 12 v 2
¹ Minnowsaur – Mythical creature which was unmythically fought and killed by Mr. Chuck Norris in The Illead of Mr. Norris ²KREIGERGEISTEN! – A small town in western Germany which was overthrown by the tyrant lord of Sweden in 4242.
³Catoptrotriskaidekaentomoarsonophobia – A very real and frighteningly hindering illness, can completely disable its victim to almost comatose state. It is said to affect almost 0 out of every 1,000,000,000,000,000,000 make-believe characters.
ª masturbate – For bears it takes on a completely different meaning than its Swedish counterpart. For bears, it means simply to pleasure one’s self with a paw. In Swedish tongue, it means the forced pleasure of one’s dog with a spatula and beanut putter.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 13; verse 1
Twas exactly three and a half weeks since the turkey adventurers had obtained the Holy Quail, and they were in the middle of a vast desert. Luckily for them, turkeys could carry extra reserves of water in their neck-nut sacs. Unfortunately they were drained to near depletion due to the length of their stay and the fact they had seen no bodies of water for at least a week.
At night they took shelter in hollowed-out dens underground. They had attempted to hollow out a cactus on one occasion, but cacti were vigorous carnivores and had nearly succeeded in swallowing one of the Turklings before the others were able to assist by urinating on it, as cacti are severely allergic to the toxins carried in avian urine. One night they were all sleeping in one of their dens when they heard a shuffling noise outside their entrance. Now of course, being turkeys, they had not created another exit hole from which to escape in the event of danger so their entrance was their exit. As they say in Boston, “Them bitches be fucked!” *No one from Boston will admit to saying this*
CrazyTurkey, being the fearless leader that he is (or just brain-dead moron), decided to poke his head out of the hole. He was immediately seized by his turkey-neck and dragged upwards by a mouthful of sharp teeth. The Turklings clambered after their retarded mentor and each one suffered the same fate. After the captors were sure they had the last of them they took off in the direction of the mountains.
The moonlight was blocked by clouds that night, so not much could be revealed about their captors. CrazyTurkey caught a few glances as his body was dragged across the cold and sandy ground of long pointy ears and yellow, glowing eyes. The creatures looked blacker than coal, giving off the impression that they were larger than they actually were. They raced across the desert floor on all fours at a pretty decent pace.
They traveled for a mere four hours before finally reaching their nesting site, which was a small encampment a few miles south-west of the mountains. There were armed guards standing watch at several points of the camp. There were several unarmed guards in the inner part, though they got around via wheeled chairs.
The Flock was carried into a large tent in the center of the camp. Inside was a large fountain which was currently empty and looked like it had been for quite some time. Beyond the fountain was an impressive throne made of yak bones and camel skin. Atop said throne was some canid creature, jet-black fur radiating his piercing yellow eyes. His ears were pointing towards the sky and quivering as though the mere sound of turkey feathers dragging across the sand was too much.
The Flock was released at the foot of the throne and the captors stepped back and lowered their heads in respect to their pack leader. He acknowledged them and turned his attention to The Flock. His gaze was instantly taken in by the challis atop the back of one of the Turklings. His heart stopped.
Several hours later…After successful CPR was performed and a painful ureter catheter removed, the King returned to his throne. He requested CrazyTurkey’s name and reason for trespassing in the Land of the Jackals. CrazyTurkey gobbled his explanation and his exploits thus far. Sadly I speak not dumbass, so I couldn’t tell you if all he told was the truth. In any event, the King bought his story and applauded him on his conquests. He had heard of both the Cychops and Minnowsaur and knew they were fierce monsters indeed.
He introduced himself as King Cameltoetep, Bone Marrow of Egypt (Bone Marrow is the highest position for any ruler in Egypt). He explained that he had been in power of Egypt for almost 300 years now, but that travesty had plagued his land over the past few months. CrazyTurkey gobbled questionably.
King Cameltoetep stated that his land had been suffering serious drought. The Fountain of Anubis had been the pillar of civilization here for countless millennia as it flowed eternally. However, they had awoke one morning to find it dried up! They had thought at first they did something to displease their god, but could not figure out what they had done. They had been searching instead for the Spring of Anubis which flows beneath the sands of Egypt and supplies the fountain with its bounty, but so far unsuccessfully.
The King pointed at the challis and asked if that was indeed the fabled Holy Quail of legend. CrazyTurkey jiggled his head like a cellulite-covered ass. The King explained that if the stories were true, the challis held the power to flow forth oceans of water from a mere cupful. He further stated that the challis must first be filled with water from some source however. He asked CrazyTurkey if he could assist the village.
CrazyTurkey coughed up his map and handed it to the King. The King took it and looked it over a few moments. After a while he handed it back to CrazyTurkey. He told him that it looked like the entrance to the treasure he sought was the same entrance to which he needed to go in order to search for the Spring of Anubis: The Great Pyramid of Tube-Top Kamen, feared cross-dressing Bone Marrow of the 54th century. CrazyTurkey gobbled and began raping the sand.
King Cameltoetep explained that as long as CrazyTurkey could dip the challis into the Spring of Anubis and bring it back to the encampment, the jackals could take it into their temple and ordain it, thus restoring their favor with their god and possibly the flow to their fountain as well. CrazyTurkey swallowed the map and klorted. The King nodded in approval and told CrazyTurkey that he would send troops out to carry his flock so as not to exhaust them.
They left the King’s presence and set out at once. It took about three hours to get there and the stick-necked turkeys were more than pleased. Drenched with the saliva of their canid taxies, they entered the Great Pyramid. The jackals followed into the entrance, but only far enough to escape the approaching sunlight. They dared trek no further on sacred ground.
The Flock wandered down into the tomb, not knowing what dangers lay ahead of them. The jackals had not mentioned any traps, but that did not mean that they were absent. The Turklings forged ahead cautiously, though to perhaps no avail as their demented leader CrazyTurkey was trucking on like a fucking semi baring down on an innocent baby left in a crib in the middle of a four-way intersection.
Twas an unfortunate occurrence indeed, for CrazyTurkey eventually stepped on the wrong floor tile and the entire floor dropped out from underneath them. They hit a sloping wall a few feet down and slid at a 12% slope for about a full minute before crashing into the sandy bottom below. There were turkey bodies splayed everywhere. Truly a disgusting sight to behold.
After righting themselves, they looked around. There was but one path, which lay ahead of them now. It was lit by torches held in place along the wall on either side. The path continued on farther than their turkey vision would allow. They started on ahead.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 13; verse 2
There was no turning back for the brave (or foolish) warriors of misfortune. The path ahead of them had been forged thousands of years ago, and it was not until this moment that they had set forth on the path that had been lain before them from before they had been begat unto this world so that they could traverse the danger-filled corridor that lay not behind but in front of those of whom we are speaking. Simply put, they are going forward. There, I fucking said it. Happy now?!
Anyway, the heroic travelers trudged forward into the cold and uninviting abyss. The tunnel system went for quite some distance from the pyramid itself, leading out underneath the vast desert. There were many twists and turns along the single-edged pathway, all the while being lit up by the blazing torches that lined the hall.
Finally, after several hours of wandering, they spotted the light at the end of the tunnel ahead of them. Though exhausted from the journey, seeing this seemed to give them some renewed energy, for they leapt and galloped ahead like a herd of stampeding Yakalopes (offspring of a female cantaloupe with a male yak). The Flock of the Nine Minus One plopped out into the light-encased room ahead of them…
Unbeknownst to our heroes, TurboRooster was following them down the corridor. Having recovered from his previous failure, he was fully prepared for his vengeance against his bird brethren. He managed to use his experimental cloaking technology to slip past the jackals on the first floor and had seen the path CrazyTurkey had carelessly left behind. He could see the light ahead and the foolish turkeys at the end of the path. He pushed forward silently...
In the Din uv Suffereeng…Snuggle could see both fowl from his crystal balls. He had taken them years ago from a demon made from crystals by telling him a ‘vasectomy’ was an ‘ice cream sundae bath’. He watched the whole thing seething with rage. He knew CrazyTurkey had the first of the artifacts, and he could not sit on the sidelines and allow him to take yet another. Or worse yet, allow TurboRooster to get his wings on one and giving both his enemies an advantage over him. He opened a portal to the desert and stepped through…
Beautiful spring water glistened ahead of the turkeys. The fire cast dancing reflections from the surface giving off the impression that some great beast lay beneath the surface. No sooner had I spoken/written this sentence than the water churned and frothed and out of the water arose a great monster.
This creature was a gigantic sea cucumber that had been bought as a pet from a pet store, but then flushed down the toilet when it didn’t pickle properly. It lived out its life in the sewers of New York eating alligators and baby rhinoceros’ until it became large enough to travel across the sea. Eventually it made its way across the ocean and into Egypt where it survived in the Nile River for many years. There it terrorized locals, earning the name Hydrumber, or ‘fierce water pickle’. One day, it just disappeared and was never seen again. Until now!
It roared at the turkey intruders, with no mouth, and up rose many waving tentacles. It threw them around recklessly, trying to smash the avian warriors against the walls. The Turklings took to the skies to attempt to confuse the great leviathan. CrazyTurkey however, just provided one of the tentacles with an enjoyable plaything. He had shit out part of his intestines in order to skip rope with it, and the tentacle had grabbed it and was now using CrazyTurkey as his own yo-yo; his head smacking on the floor on every drop down.
TurboRooster stepped through the doorway just in time to see CrazyTurkey smack his head against a very pointy rock. He let out a weak ‘go-lock?’ before the process continued. TurboRooster, though pleased to see this, wanted to be the one to kill this deranged fowl. He shot out one of his feathers, severing the tentacle holding CrazyTurkey.
CrazyTurkey hopped up and sucked his intestines back in. He then began pecking at the severed tentacle in front of him. It didn’t take long before he began to choke on one of the pieces he had pecked off. He fell to the ground convulsing.
The creature turned its attention now towards TurboRooster. The tentacles not already chasing random Turklings now surged towards TurboRooster. He cut off several more of them using his razor-sharp wings.
All of a sudden, a beam of light surged down from above. The Hydrumber shrieked (though it had no mouth?!) as the heat from the long absent sun began to shrink its rapidly pickling skin. A small brown lump fell on top of the writhing beast. It burrowed underneath the leviathan despite the tough exterior. The creature writhed and screamed for a few more seconds before falling silent. All the tentacles dropped down to the water.
TurboRooster watched silently, waiting for him to show. The Hydrumber continued to shrink, and the water began to empty out of the pool! Eventually it was no more than a pickle in a puddle. Several holes in the wall revealed that the Hydrumber must have been plugging them up in an attempt to conserve all the water in the Spring of Anubis for itself.
TurboRooster scanned the empty pool. There was no trace of the demon bear that he suspected was behind the beast’s destruction. He finally spotted a hole where the Hydrumber had been resting. Apparently Snuggle had tunneled out of the beast as it was shrinking in order to get to the artifact first! TurboRooster rushed to catch up…
CrazyTurkey seemed unharmed by the encounter with the overblown pickle, and had finally coughed up the piece that he had breathed in accidentally on purpose. His Turkling followers were hovered around him, and they gobbled to him that TurboRooster and Snuggle were already back on the trail of the relic. They also showed him that they had managed to dip the Holy Quail into the spring before it disappeared. Amazingly, even when tipped upside down the water would not empty! CrazyTurkey gobbled happily….or maybe unhappily…and hopped up, running forward…only to fall into the hole Snuggle had dug…
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 13; verse 3
Snuggle could feel the energy given off by the enchanted sword. It was located directly beneath the area where the Hydrumber had been and he suspected the sword’s power had been what drew it here in the first place. He had not been expecting such a creature, but was pleased that it had cut off both CrazyTurkey and TurboRooster from getting ahead of him.
Finally, he broke through the ceiling and fell to the floor below. He landed on a staircase and rolled down a bit. After coming to a stop, he pushed himself up and looked up the stairs. There, atop the stand and buried to the hilt in some type of stone, was the legendary sword Ex-.50-caliber.
Legend has it that the great king, King Baron von Smittywerbenvanjeigerman-jensen the VIII had defeated a terrible fire-breathing emu that was terrorizing his kingdom. After his triumph, he went out to celebrate by picking up a prostitute. When she made a crack about him being ‘faster than a gas-powered push mower’, he flew into a rage and stabbed his blade into the whore. She screamed in horrible agony and cursed the king.
By some stroke of horrible luck, the king had managed to pick up a transvestite-witch hooker. After he/she told the king that not only did he now have crabs and herpes (not to mention the he/she had a big, dangling pair of balls that the king so humbly missed!), but that now his blade that he treasured so dearly would never be used by him again, he wept. She/he further stated that only someone that could swallow the great pickle would be able to free the sword from its resting place. Anyone else who dared try and fail would have their nuts shrivel beyond the size of raisins for as long as they live.
The witch got a raging erection, then immediately turned to stone, sealing the king’s sword inside him/herself until some brave and fucking stupid warrior should attempt to free it. The king, feeling the crabs already, feared the nut shrinking story of the witch and so left that day without swallowing his/her pickle. Thereafter, every knight took to heart the witches curse. Despite their heroic and brave battles previous and after, none dared attempt to free the sword, for none wanted to ‘taste the great pickle’.
Now Snuggle had never heard the stories and so thusly grabbed the hilt of the sword. He pulled with all his might using the stone erection of the she-male witch as balance, but the sword didn’t even budge. He tried again, straining and yanking as hard as he could. Again, twas to no avail. Fed up, he let go and stared at it angrily.
He finally slammed his head forward, biting the hilt and tugging. The sword popped right out, sending the bear flying backwards. The sword landed atop his chest. He picked it up and looked at it. The handle was in the shape of a pickle, and engraved across the hilt was the phrase, “The Great Pickle”. The blade shone remarkably. Snuggle was mesmerized.
TurboRooster could sense both sword and bear beyond the next door. He kicked it open. To his surprise, the sword had been freed. He saw the demon Snuggle in the opposite corner holding the sword and staring at it. He suddenly sensed TurboRooster’s presence, for he turned his head and stared at him. Snuggle smiled evilly and opened a portal to his right and rolled into it.
TurboRooster rushed forward in an attempt to catch the bear before he escaped, but the portal closed right before his wing could grab the plush leg of the demon. TurboRooster cursed out a loud ‘BA-GOCK!’ and stormed out back the way he came.
Not but 30 seconds later, CrazyTurkey came crashing down from Snuggle’s hole and landed on the rock-witch. He lay there dazed for a few seconds before his Turkling followers caught up to him and awoke him by splashing him with an excessive amount of spring water. CrazyTurkey gobbled and hopped up. He looked around, but it was obvious that the sword was gone. Dejectedly, the turkey travelers returned through the doorway TurboRooster had created.
It took a few hours, but they finally made their way back to the entrance of the pyramid and returned to the awaiting jackals. They were excited to see the spring water, and instantly set out to return it to their camp. Night had fallen yet again, so the journey back was not as arduous. Upon return to camp, they brought The Flock before their king.
The Flock presented the Holy Quail to King Cameltoetep who graciously accepted it. He gave it to his head priest who took it to the temple and ordained it. He then returned and poured it into the Fountain of Anubis. It instantly sprang back to life! The jackals were ecstatic, singing and dancing, pleased that they had made peace with Anubis yet again.
King Cameltoetep returned the challis to CrazyTurkey. The Holy Quail was now empty again, having fulfilled its current quest. CrazyTurkey attached it to his Turkling carrier and gobbled. The King thanked him for his help and told him he was now friends of the jackals. Anytime that CrazyTurkey needed assistance, they would be there.
CrazyTurkey coughed up the map for the next treasure and handed it to the king. He took it and studied it. He determined that the next item must be on the other side of the mountains to the west. He handed CrazyTurkey the map who swallowed it. The Flock rested in the jackal camp overnight and set out the next morning, hoping to obtain the next item without incident. Yeah right.
In the Din uv Suffereeng…Snuggle was very pleased with himself. This was his first real victory over the birds he hated so, and a great one indeed it was. He now had the fabled sword, Ex-.50-caliber. He knew nothing about the sword’s power or abilities, but he was dedicated to spending the next few months finding out.
He felt a presence in his den that he had felt before. He drew the sword towards the approaching figure. Around the corner came none other than The Medium, covered in vomit and feces, peg leg dragging the ground sadly. He was holding a sack of some kind, which looked quite heavy. Of course you must realize that The Medium has almost no muscle mass, therefore the weight of a pencil tip is almost enough to snap his arms like twigs.
In any event, he set the sack on the ground before Snuggle. Snuggle looked at it quizzically. The Medium explained the Nameless which he served had been watching him for some time now, and were pleased with the progress he had made. First with dispatching Their prototype platypi and now obtaining one of the three legendary relics. Snuggle hissed to him to get to the point.
The Medium stated in a raspy voice that the Nameless had also seen his failures, namely the incident with the ‘Turducken’ experiment and They were hoping to aid him with this. Snuggle asked the obvious question at this point: ‘Does this place smell like hickory-smoked horse buttholes?’ The Medium stared at him.
Snuggle sneered and asked why he should seek the help of creatures too afraid to show themselves. The Medium replied saying that his Masters were not afraid of showing Themselves. He said that They prefer the fear of the unknown instead, driving one to the point of absolute insanity from fear resulting in self termination. He said that if They wanted, They could turn Snuggle’s brain upside-down and inside out, making him think that he was the floating seed of an apple tree turnpike in North Chicago.
Snuggle’s eyes widened, for he greatly feared the apple trees of the long extinct Midwest. He agreed to accept the Nameless’ gift, but asked what They wanted in return. He stated that he served no one. The Medium replied that the Nameless were satisfied with that, and expected nothing in return. Snuggle could sense the lie, but nodded his head. He asked the Medium to leave his den.
The Medium bowed and hobbled out, returning to his Masters. Snuggle was still unnerved by the visit. He couldn’t figure out what They could want in return if not complete servitude. He shrugged it off for the moment and opened the sack. It was filled with hundreds of the same white feather he had used before…
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 14; verse 1
The hapless heroes had finally reached the summit…is what you would be reading if that were actually the case. Nay, I say unto thee it was far more complicated than that. For you see, therein lies a tale about corn covered horses, exploding goats, dangerous rock slides, and over-priced mattresses sold to rich peasants who lost their homes due to a fire breathing Emu. But sadly, none of these things are actually in this story. Or maybe they are. You have naught but to read to find out!
Our story picks up where we last left off, which if you read the last chapter then I don’t need to tell you. OK? Good. Now before I so rudely interrupted myself for you, I was speaking of our favorite retard turkeys. They had escaped the desert and were at the foothills of Mt. Drglsspckr (pronounced Doctor-glass-pecker), which lay next to the smaller mountain, Mt. Aieeouiay! (pronounced Aieeouiay!).
Both were inactive volcanoes that had been renamed a long time ago by some guy that escaped from the mental institution and was named Mayor for the town of Bumblebeetuna. Sadly, he decreed that the town be moved into the volcano, and they were all killed by the fumes that it sprayed off the following night. It has been said that a bird has been sighted in the area ever since, a bird that seemed to glow a radiant neon green. Probably from the toxic waste the mayor made everyone drink. Fuckin’ idiot.
Anyway, The Flock was travelling through the woods that night. They had still not found a suitable place to bed for the night. The last place that CrazyTurkey had found had plenty of food in the area…or so they thought. When one of the Turklings tried to peck a cob of corn it found in a bush, they were all attacked by horse creatures called Multicorns, which were shy creatures that had cobs of corn growing from their heads. The cobs ranged from 6-12 inches when at adulthood, and the males had anywhere between 2 and 22 cobs growing from their head.
Normally peaceful creatures by nature, they generally keep to themselves and almost never attack without reason. However, during mating season, the males will attempt to eat a rival’s cobs in order to detract that male from any females. It was not yet mating season for the Multicorns, however the one happened to be sleeping when the stupid Turkling pecked its cob and thusly awoke with quite a fright. Honestly I would’ve fucked that Turkling up too if I woke up to find him gnawing on my cob.
The Flock managed to escape the rampaging hormonal-driven stallions by throwing a coconut in the other direction. Apparently Multicorns are attracted to tropical fruits. Nevertheless, The Flock was getting tired and needed to find a nest soon. They eventually stumbled across a hollow log. They all crammed themselves in and bedded down for the night.
They awoke the next morning and set off again. Stiff from the tight quarters, they didn’t cover much ground for the first few hours. In fact, they kind of hobbled around in circles, slowly progressing forwardish. They finally managed to orient themselves and walk in a line that wouldn’t get them arrested for walking while intoxicated. Time passed rather quickly for them and before they knew it they had begun their ascent of the mountain itself.
In the Din uv Suffereeng…Snuggle had begun researching the feathers bestowed unto him from Creatures Nameless. He was looking at the DNA structure of one of the feathers underneath a microscope. He could see nothing different than last time that would give him reason to be concerned. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that They would give them up without wanting anything.
He shrugged it off and began again to create the hybrid blasphemies of fowl that should not be mixed. He found out he was able to add his SNA more easily this time, which gave him a weird tingle. In addition, he couldn’t shake off this funny feeling that someone, somewhere was watching him…
In the Fortress of the All-Seeing Cyborg Eye…TurboRooster was draining the juice from one of his Chicks. He had to have several Chick shakes a day since the loss of Ex-.50-caliber to Snuggle. They seemed to calm him in the way that the slaying of a thousand country music stars never would. That’s not to say he never considered the possibility, you talentless bastards!
He had just chugged down the shake when he felt an opening in space and time in his Fortress. He immediately pulled his static-cling pulse rifle out and aimed it at the intruder standing behind him: The Medium…
The mountain trail was perilous. The narrow path sheltered no protection from a very long and deadly drop off the side. One of the Turklings ran into an incredibly endangered Mountain Gerbil (Gerbilus mountainus carnivorous) and The Flock watched in horror as the poor bird had its fluids drained like an lemon in Tike Myson’s private bedroom.
The surviving members managed to escape the deadly gerbil’s rampage and continued up the mountain. There was no escape for the gerbil however, as Dick Gere (long-line descendant of Richard Gere) found the creature and stuck it in his “prison pocket”. I am told that the gerbil later died due to throat rape from a hamster that had taken up residence in there. This effectively brought the entire species to extinction.
The Flock of the Nine Plus Negative Two reached a base camp of 9,000 feet. There was no longer a path to follow, and the only way around was to climb straight up. It was mayhap possible for creatures with, how shall I say this, intelligence, but these fucktards decided to try to burrow into the rock. Do I need to say it didn’t work?
Several broken beaks later, The Flock changed tactics and decided to try going up. They soon found that by combining their strength, they could lift CrazyTurkey into the air. It took several attempts since CrazyTurkey decided he wanted to fly too. The only reason they were actually able to pull it off, in my opinion at least, is that the last flight attempt CrazyTurkey hit his head on a pointy rock and was knocked unconscious. This allowed the Turklings to finally get him onto the next ledge where the terrain was more navigable.
When CrazyTurkey finally awoke, they again set off. The ground now had a thin sheet of ash on it, and The Flock could see it only got worse ahead. There was some good out of it, as they could see the top was only a few thousand feet now. The bad news was that they could no longer climb straight up. They had to ascend diagonally, creating much more distance in retrospect as they would now have to circle the mountain at least once before reaching the top.
Snuggle had been quite busy and had already a hundred eggs. There was plenty more embryos to be had, as he only used a dozen feathers so far. His progress was remarkable to create so many more than previously. He couldn’t help but wonder if the Creatures had anything to do with the added growth, but none of his embryos tested positive for steroids so he just let it go for now…
TurboRooster held a feather against the trigger, waiting for the intruder to give him a reason to go ahead. The Medium told him to hear what he had to say before killing him. He mentioned something about the final relic. TurboRooster lowered his weapon.
The Medium said that Creatures who shall remain Nameless sent him on Their behalf to tell TurboRooster that They knew the location of the final relic. They also knew that CrazyTurkey and Snuggle both had a relic each, and if either one was to obtain the final one the war could be turned in their favor. The Medium also said that They had been watching the entire war thus far, and were most favorable towards Thuh Chickenz goal of complete annihilation of all other species.
TurboRooster was unsurprisingly skeptical, as he knew that Snuggle had the same goal. He held his mechanical tongue however, and just stared at The Medium. The Medium continued on, disclosing the location of the final relic. TurboRooster logged it into his internal GPS system and motioned for The Medium to leave. The Medium bowed and turned to leave, but not before handing something to TurboRooster that he said he “may want for the relic’s opening.” TurboRooster looked at it with his bionic eye. It was a jar of beanut putter…
The Flock had made it to the opposite end of the mountain, slowly progressing upwards the entire time. Ahead of them was something they had not seen in quite some time: a village. They could see the huts in the distance and smoke billowing from the poorly made chimneys. They made their way towards the village in the hope that they could find a place to bed for the night.
Upon arrival into the village however, they found no welcoming party. In fact, the town seemed to fall into a deep silence as soon as the birds stepped in. They could see creatures peering at them through fond-made blinds, but could not make out the creatures to tell if they should be feared.
Good old CrazyTurkey wasted no time in walking up to one of the doors and banging his head against it roughly. The Flock could hear grunts coming from behind the door, but no answer. They tried another one, but to the same effect. This continued for several more huts. Finally, one of the doors opened. Out shot a huge black hand that grabbed the bird by his neck-nuts and ninched one of them between thumb and forefinger. CrazyTurkey gobbled…
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 14; verse 2
When CrazyTurkey made no attempt to seek retribution for this uncalled for ninching, the hand let go and slowly pulled back. The door opened fully, revealing a large and hairy black creature. The hands, feet, chest and face were hairless. The brow was formed in an eternal scowl, but the face was pleasant, even warm. The Flock could tell that these creatures meant them no harm, and they gobbled happily.
The creature beckoned The Flock to come inside, which they happily obliged. The creature brought them to an older silver-backed creature of the same species. He looked at the newcomers. He spoke gruffly and slowly, taking time with some of the words.
He introduced himself as Long Ball. It was obvious why he had been named thusly. One of his testicles had grown to be longer than his cock, and it dangled down on the ground. He told them that his species was called ‘gorilla’, and that they were a troop of rich peasants who had fled tyranny during the Upper-Class Peasant’s Revolt of 3118. He said that ever since, his people had been cut off from all other living things and therefore most had lost the ability to communicate with words.
He introduced his wife as Iam Mossey, a famous researcher on human behavior and myths before the revolt. Apparently she had once spent an entire year with humans who many had feared to be violent. Of course, everyone turned out to be right for one day the humans tried to kill Mossey, whereupon she flew into a rage and tore hundreds of them apart. The human race was soon brought into the endangered category due to poaching and overhunting.
He asked CrazyTurkey what they were doing all the way up here on the volcano. CrazyTurkey klorted up his map and handed it to him. The Turkling carrying the Holy Quail also brought it forth. Long looked at the map, but seemed uninterested. The shining gleam of the Holy Quail however caught his attention, and he and Iam stared at it for minutes before being shaken out of their trance by CrazyTurkey’s attempted skull-fuckings.
Long told them they were welcome to stay the night, and pointed to the guest room that they would be using. The Flock gobbled and headed off to bed. Outside, in the distance, a scream from some great beast could be heard…
TurboRooster had arrived at the mountain, and he could see the village where the Flock was staying using his super-scoped rifle. He could easily pick out CrazyTurkey listening to some black creature. He turned his attention away for a minute and shot a blast from his rifle into a nest inside the volcano, setting it ablaze. He left the area immediately and cloaked himself.
It didn’t take long for the owner of the nest to return and find it ablaze, all the eggs destroyed and leaking bubbling yolk. The creature was stunned for a few moments, then it noticed a trail of blood leading away from the nest. Its gaze followed the trail all the way to the village in the distance. The creature screamed a terrible scream, while TurboRooster sat back and watched his plan unfold…
Snuggle had just stepped out of his portal and onto the dark mountain when he felt something large coming from behind him. He readied Ex-.50-caliber and turned to face this foe…only to have it blow right over the top of him right when he turned. The speed at which it traveled caused Snuggle to be blown backwards a bit, though the weight of the sword helped keep him grounded. He turned back and saw just a black blob racing off in the distance. He followed the creature, sure it would lead him to the next relic…
The Flock fell asleep quickly, worn out from their long journey. Unaware of the danger that was swiftly coming, they dreamt pleasant dreams of frolicking through groves of potatoes and drinking the nectar of the Mercury Gnattrap. They were awakened with a start by the screams of gorillas. The Flock leapt out of bed and raced to the window.
Terrorizing one of the smaller gorillas was some type of large bird, dark feathers puffed out everywhere. Oddly enough, this creature also had bumpy, scaly skin resembling a reptile. It stood higher than even the two-story peasant houses and had glowing red eyes burning with hatred. It was screaming violently as it tore open the much smaller gorilla, thereafter it flung the corpse into one of the buildings completely demolishing it.
It turned its attention to The Flock and it opened its mouth, but no scream came out. Instead, out poured a roiling wave of liquid fire which scorched the building in which the Flock was staying. Luckily, they had ran away from the window, for it lit up like a Christmas tree in a drunk man’s house after he realized that his welfare check would not be coming in the next month and he could no longer afford the toilet paper which he needed so much. The Flock ran outside, gobbling and klorting up a storm. The giant Emugon stared at them.
There have been documented cases of a genetically altered emu that could breathe fire. All reports lead back to a small dental clinic in southern Australia, where a disgruntled dentist assistant was fed up with doing root canals on llamas. It had always been his dream to become a fire eater for the circus, but his father discouraged such behavior saying things like, “shut up boy, and eat your damn bark! You think that shit grows on trees?!” Afterwards, the father would beat the child with boomerangs (which always hit twice!) and feed him freeze-dried koala droppings.
One day the dental assistant was playing with a flamethrower in his backyard when an emu ran by. The boy had an incredibly brilliant idea to fuse the raw power of the flamethrower into a flightless bird. He figured if he could not eat fire, why not breathe it? Of course he had to test it on animals first, thanks to PITA (People for the Inhumane Testing on Animals) declaring that all products be harmfully tested on animals first, and the emu was the animal of choice for the dentist wanna-be.
After capturing the bird, he took it into his basement where he performed experiments which are far beyond the skill level of anyone with his IQ. Yet, successfully he transplanted the napalm into the bird and found that it could breathe it on will! He was so excited by his success that he went out and drank to celebrate.
He probably should have not done that. For when he returned home that night, drunk as shit, he decided then was the time to transplant the flamethrower into himself. He was sadly mistaken, for he did not calculate who would perform the transplant when he was under anesthesia. He mistakenly turned the oxygen up to its highest point and thusly died that night due to a horrible combination of hyperoxia and the resulting explosion of leaving the flamethrower running.
Luckily for him, his creation escaped that night as he drunkenly opened the cage door before starting and told the beast to “stay”. After much inbreeding with crocodiles, it begat the bastard child The Flock now saw before them. There have been legends of famous knights who were able to slay Emugons by sword and rescue damsels. Such accounts are clearly fabrications for the Emugons are immune to all metallic elements except for scissors, razor blades & nail clippers. This led to the Engineering & Migratory Union of Sweden or EMUS (led by, oddly enough, the flightless birds) banning these items from all airlines.
Long Ball’s house was almost ash now, and The Flock had seen neither he nor his wife vacate the premises. The flame-spewing creature of destruction stared down The Flock. Somehow its beak managed to curl up in snarl. The Turklings began running around crazily, but insanely as it may seem CrazyTurkey just stood there watching the Emugon.
Snuggle watched the weird creature torch the living shit out of one of the huts in the village. By the time he had gotten here most of the village was in ruin, and there were corpses of some strange black creature he had never seen splayed across the ground. His attention was drawn to seven birds he knew all too well sprinting out of the flaming hut.
Now Snuggle was content to just sit back and watch the ensuing mayhem, but something happened. Now either Snuggle had a pleasant smell to him (as he bathed in his fabric softener daily) or the Emugon just had an impersonal grudge against the demon bear. Either way, a strong headwind blasted suddenly, coming from behind the demented bear and heading towards the Emugon. Once the Emugon caught this new fragrance (Buy Wind-Blown Demon Bear scented Snuggle™ fabric softener: coming this Febtober to a grocery store near you!) it instantly turned its attention to this newcomer.
Snuggle was quite perturbed to say the least. He had wanted to see the bastard birds barbequed, but now it would seem that he’d have to fight his way out of a hot situation. The Emugon charged Snuggle with mouth agape, planning to swallow the bear whole. Snuggle picked up his sword and held his ground. The Emugon blasted a wave of roiling fire at the bear. Snuggle easily dodged the wave by rolling to his right…right into the oncoming jaws of the deadly beast!
TurboRooster watched Snuggle walk right into the beast’s trap and get swallowed whole. He knew this would only prove a temporary solution to the bear, but he figured it would give him enough time to obtain both his sword and the other relic before he could regenerate his plush body into the living world. He decided he would go ahead and let the beast dispose of CrazyTurkey as well before killing it himself for both relics. It was the perfect plan to obtain all three items almost at once!
CrazyTurkey looked on as the Emugon turned back towards him and the revolting Turklings. It walked slowly towards its prey. After a few steps, it stopped and shook its head. It began walking towards them again. Yet again, it stopped and shook its head. This time it opened its mouth, as if trying to vomit something up. Nothing came however, so it stood there dry heaving.
All of a sudden, out of its chest sprang a blade. It ran down the center of this creature’s stomach, spilling guts all over the place. The beast roared once, then fell over on its side dead. Snuggle rolled out, covered in bloody slime and stomach acids. His plush bear body had several spots of stuffing showing where the acid had eaten away the fur. He stood up and looked around to see no one in sight.
CrazyTurkey and the rest of The Flock had taken refuge in the cellar of Long Ball’s demolished hut after seeing the sword erupt from the bird’s chest. They were all cowering around each other for comfort, though CrazyTurkey tried to skull-fuck the shit out of one of the Turklings. A warm blast flew past CrazyTurkey like a bottle of liquor thrown at an obstinate child during Christmas dinner. He turned towards this blast and saw something that caught his eye…namely: a box.
The Great Avian War;a Chronicling
Chapter 14; verse 3
The box looked rather plain, little more than a brown clay box. There was an inscription on top, but it was from a tongue which CrazyTurkey had never seen before. Now there’s a fuckin’ shock. Anyway, what had caught his attention was not really the box itself but rather the yellow glow coming from the seal of the lid. It was shining out just barely, as though the seal had not closed completely. CrazyTurkey pecked at the lid until it slid off.
TurboRooster dropped down silently behind the fool of a Turk. He saw him staring retardly at something, but couldn’t see around his fat turkey ass to tell what it was. He pulled out his bionic sword and crept up slowly. CrazyTurkey pecked at something, and all of a sudden a brilliant flash of light blasted forth, disrupting TurboRooster’s sight sensors…
Snuggle was still dripping with sticky innards. He could sense the relic’s energy coming from that damn hut that the birds had been staying in. He could also smell that his enemy was already down there. He grabbed Ex-.50-caliber and ran to the basement entrance. He made it to the hole right when a bright light went off in his button eyes. He dropped the sword and grabbed his eyes, screaming pussily…
When his eyes finally readjusted, CrazyTurkey gobbled and looked around. The room looked exactly the same as it had a few moments ago. That is except for the giant goat standing behind him. It was facing to the left, and had its eyes locked onto both CrazyTurkey and TurboRooster, who was on the opposite side of the goat.
The goat growled and spoke in a harsh, hateful tone. He demanded to know who had disturbed his sleep. When neither party responded, he snarled and through clenched herbivorian teeth he said he would not ask a third time. CrazyTurkey gobbled and cocked his head.
The goat immediately turned towards the creature and head-butted him, sending him flying out of the hole, gobbling and klorting the whole way. The Turklings freaked and flew out after him. Angora’s Box fell to the ground.
The goat turned its attention to TurboRooster and asked him if he wanted to die. TurboRooster said nothing. The goat growled and lined up for a charge. It stopped short however, when TurboRooster pulled out a jar. He unscrewed the lid and held it out to the goat.
Now it is common knowledge that no goat can resist the alluring scent of beanut putter, and apparently this goat of legend was no different. His mouth salivated and he asked TurboRooster what he wanted. TurboRooster demanded an alliance, with the goat working for TurboRooster. He made himself clear that if the goat tried anything to betray him, he would kill him without hesitation and toss the box into the fires of Mount Boom (a volcano near the All-Seeing Cyborg Eye Fortress).
The goat could tell he meant business, and that this was no cock to suck…er… fuck with. He agreed, and pledged his loyalty to TurboRooster, introducing himself as Quanfiggely'odope. He said that he would prefer to remain in the box when not needed to fight, but would gladly send out hordes of his goat minions whenever beckoned by the rooster overlord. He stated that they were a special breed of goats that could not only control when they blew up, but could also save a reserve amount of energy for a secondary explosion. This made them the most deadly goat the world had ever known and thusly a wizard of the 40th century had sealed them in the box.
TurboRooster agreed to these terms and sealed Quanfiggely'odope into Angora’s Box. He placed the box into his chest plate and walked out of the room, cloaking himself. He had successfully acquired the third relic.
Snuggle managed to gain his button-eyesight back. He picked up Ex-.50-caliber and leapt into the basement. He snarled and scanned the room. Other than the debris of the demolished hut, there was nothing. He could sense the relic moving away at a high rate of speed and knew he had lost this battle. Defeated, he sauntered off to his lair to prepare for his next attack on the fowl creatures of this world…
CrazyTurkey hobbled up slowly, still shaken up from the unexpected head butt of the horned creature. The Flock had gathered around him, gobbling that the other relic was now in TurboRooster’s hands. Even CrazyTurkey’s absent mind could comprehend what that meant. Still, they had not only acquired one of the three relics, but also managed to (not really through any doing of their own) keep any of the other parties from obtaining both other relics.
CrazyTurkey could hear shuffling and grunting from his left. He turned to see Long Ball and Iam Mossey hobbling over in that oh-so-familiar gorilla walk. CrazyTurkey was relieved (can he feel such emotions?!?!) to see they were unhurt, and gobbled happily to them. Long Ball told him that they escaped through the back door after smelling fire.
The Flock wandered back into the village, escorting the tired couple. There were but a handful of gorillas still alive after the tragic battle, and there was already a scheming lion selling over-priced mattresses to the weary denizens. It was amazing how quickly the predators worked when they spotted wounded prey.
Suddenly, there was a faint song in the air. It sounded like the whistling of a song bird, but that seemed impossible since they had been extinct for hundreds of years. Yet there it was, singing away. It was impossible to tell where the creature was, for it sounded like it came from everywhere at once. With no warning at all, a giant letter R sprang from the wreckage of one of the demolished huts. Likewise, the letter Z popped from one of the other huts.
There is only one creature that could have been responsible for such an occurrence: the fabled Phonics. It is a legendary song bird that can create letters out of creature’s ashes with the mere sound of its song. It is said to live for 555 years and before its death it will create one last song, springing forth the next Phonics to carry on the legacy.
The problem exists in that the letters it creates have minds of their own, and they are usually quite aggressive. They tend to have the tendencies of zombies, feeding on creature’s brains and toenails. They are difficult to stop, since they have no vital organs to speak of. They have a lifespan of exactly one week, where they return to ashes from whence they came. As they say in Holland, “Ashes to ashes, and nuts to butts!”
The Flock fled, taking the few surviving gorillas with them. They managed to escape without injury, as the letters were incredibly slow. Once they were far enough away, Long Ball told CrazyTurkey that they must depart to seek out new grounds for they could not leave the mountain they loved so much. CrazyTurkey gobbled, and they headed off in separate directions.
The journey back home was sorrowful. Distraught from losing the other two relics, CrazyTurkey gobbled so loudly that night that he caused a rock slide, which carried the squawking birds down the rest of the mountain. They awoke the next morning atop a pile of rocks which had come to rest upon a small caravan carrying abnormally large midgets working for the Department of ‘Da Fence, a mediocre chain-link fence that covered the entirety of this continent. Sadly, all the midgets were killed. Overhead, a glowing green bird soared towards the mountains…
