CRACKED: An Anthology of Eggsellent Chicken Stories by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kydala Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2020-08-31T05:00:00+00:00

“We always have such a great time in Calgary,” Mason said, taking Vivian’s arm. “Let’s grab our stuff and skedaddle.”

“You can’t go. They’re still going to try and take Skippy!” Claire said.

Mason looked at Vivian in exasperation, but he grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. We’ll do this the hard way. But Claire, I’m going to need to borrow your glasses,” he said, pulling his thick construction gloves out of his pocket.

“Why?” Claire asked.

Frantic clucking and vaguely Scottish noises grew louder in the utility shed as the chicken-riders and Chief Dundoogle approached.

“Just hand them over and get back,” Mason insisted. He put them on as well as the gloves, and stood at the ready by the door.

Yelling and laughing, the Sproutlings burst out of the door. Several of them threw their spears at Mason, but they got caught in his clothes or bounced harmlessly off his gloves. Two in the rear produced longbows—long compared to the archers themselves, at any rate—and peppered Mason’s face with arrows. Although some drew blood from scratches on his cheeks, Claire’s borrowed glasses protected his eyes.

“My turn,” Mason growled.

Vivian saw him lunge forward and grab a pair of Sproutlings by the midsections, lift them clear off their chickens, and toss them at another two of their comrades. He shouted again and spooked the mounts of the archers at the door, sending their chickens squawking back into the shed. Vivian yelled to warn him about another rider coming up to spear Mason in the shin; that Sproutling was also lifted off his chicken and tossed onto the roof for his trouble.

“Is he winning?” Claire asked, squinting in the general direction of the battle.

“Oh yes,” Vivian replied with a smile.

Finally, Mason seemed to spot an opening.

With a grand dive and roll through the dirt, he stood holding the struggling chief firmly in both hands.

All the Sproutlings who still had any fight in them immediately stopped.

“That’s enough!” Mason called out. “Now we can have a civil conversation without any spears or arrows, or we can find out how Lurgs in Canada treat Sproutlings who tie them to the ground. Deal?”

“Say your piece, then release my Pa!” yelled the chief’s ginger son, Whispit.

“You’re going to give me your word not to release any more animals from this zoo,” Mason said. “Especially none bigger than you already have. Then you’re going to let us all leave, and I’ll release your chief before we go.”

“Absolutely not!” Chief Dundoogle said from Mason’s grip. “The Herdening must continue, it is our way!”

“What’s so important about this Herdening?” Vivian asked. “Is it for sport?”

“Sport? Leave to it to a great daft Lurg to think the Herdening is a game!” said the chief, rolling his little eyes. “This is aboot our boys becoming men! They must prove that they can ride their fowl skillfully enough to bring down a great beastie before they can become a full warrior of the clan. That’s what the Herdening is for.”

“Is that all?” Vivian said. “What a silly reason to cause all this trouble.

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