Murder in the barn

I killed him. I admit it, I am guilty, I killed him. But I feel no remorse. I mean, the guy was out to kill me. There was no way I was going to let him do that. I could plead a case of self defense but I will not.

Maybe you need to understand what was going on before you start telling me to watch what I say because I am going to get into more trouble.

I know I am already in trouble but don’t give me that speech about how much more trouble. I have been in trouble since I was born and if you want to help, you better first get the story straight then walk away before you become part of it.

From the time I was little, pa used to tell me that to be the Cock, you gotta get the respect of all other cocks by any means possible. And you know how my pa was. He was the king Cock. All the chicks this side of the country worshipped him and no life loving cock would get in his way. Not to brag or anything but I never saw my father pass a day without cutting someone up. He was mean like that. And he raised me up to be a fine fighter.

I remember when he was taken out, his head and legs were all that we ever saw. Jackie, my small sister saw them in the bin. And what could we do? Nothing. My ma and step brothers watched from a distance, afraid of even getting close to the remains least the dirty dogs have a go at us. And now that I killed the guy, you calling me a murderer?

You know what, I am going to flap my wings and fly to the next farm before his wife knows what’s cooking. After all, humans’ aint that smart, they think all chicken look alike.  They will never figure that am in the farm next door.


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