The Chicken Hero Saga Chapter 2: The waiting is the hardest part

 The day started out like any other day for the Hero, the big ball of fire in the sky had risen, next door to him the rooster had begun crowing, it seemed ever since that rooster made the cover of that cereal box he thought he could do whatever he wanted, and make noise all hours of the day.  The Hero stirred out of bed, putting on his pants two legs at one time(because he didn't play by society's one leg at a time pants rule) he headed toward the kitchen.  As he put two slices of bread into the bread warming device he wondered what kind of day it would be at the harvest, he had grown accustomed to the harvest and it's routine, and since the Deboner had been quiet lately things were peaceful, when suddenly it hit him........a golden brown piece of bread nailed him between the eyes, he really needed to get that device fixed.

  Upon his arrival he noticed that today the harvest was far busier then usual.  Townsfolk were lined up outside the fence and clear into the pasture, standing there dough eyed like the sheep that surrounded the very pasture they stood in.  The Hero approached his brother Robbieus and looking again at the line asked what was making them so busy.  Robbieus replied that "There is a traveling minstrel in town at the local fairgrounds, and it is bringing more people here then usual."  Looking at the line he noticed something, it was not just the townsfolk in the line, there were new people, with more crooked teeth and longer unkempt hair, their odd footwear was made of the strongest rubber and exceeded their kneecaps.  He was fascinated for he had truly never seen a mullet before.

  Work for the Hero was easy he found, there were rarely dull moments at the harvest but essentially it was the same practice.  People came in, they ate, they left, more people came in, they ate, they left, everyday turn, turn, turn, he felt all the seasons turn, turn, turn.  Sure his co-workers amused him, there was the lovable oaf Andrewis who at the age of seven was hit by a passing wagon while crossing a beaten path, he was a good hand even if sometimes he couldn't remember which way was left and which way was right.  Then there were the dishwashers, a motley band of misfits led by the ogrish Christoph, a mountain of a man, who was warm of heart yet also likely responsible for the disappearances of past dishwashers.  The dishwashers were a low form of life, often adverse to sun light and forced to live off the scraps of the plates they washed but they were good to have in battle, as long as you slid them chicken strips while no one was looking.

  Despite the rampant business and the droves of people coming from everywhere, things were running smoothly at the harvest.  People were jovial, laughing and carrying on, until suddenly disaster struck, one of the fire pits stopped working, the fire had gone out without warning, and like a midget trying to reach something on the second shelf they knew it was gone forever.  They had a back up fire pit that was waiting to be used, but assembly would require a group of workers from two towns over and the money was simply not there.  As the chicken stock depleted, panic increased, word spread like weed grass at Petrus the third's house that there would be no white meat for extended periods of time.  Whispers became yelling, yelling had turned into screaming, and screaming turned into shoving.

  Without warning the townsfolk turned on each other, reminding the others of who was there first. " A HALF HOUR ON WHITE MEAT, I WILL WAIT, HERE'S ALL MY MONEY I WANT TO BUY ALL THE CHICKEN!" The Hero had never seen anything like it, regular people turning into bloodthirsty animals.  Stress truly affected everyone differently, in times of crisis like these, some serving wenches shut down and could only recite two questions, pacing about asking "Do you have mine?" and "How long now?" Some became mathematicians "So if I ring 5 quarter whites 10 mph faster then she can ring in 6 quarter whites will they intersect?'  The Hero had no time to answer these questions for now the townsfolk were storming the kitchen area, trying to get their hands on whatever chicken they could.  The Hero's brother Robbieus took two townsfolk and heaved them a clear two towns over. The ogrish Christoph charged at the townsfolk, throwing plates, scattering them in all directions, the Hero was impressed as it was more neatly then he usually scattered them.  The Hero grabbed his trusty blade and the impenetrable chicken string, lassoing anyone he could find. 

 The battle went on for what seemed like minutes when a loud cough was heard to break the chaos.  Everyone turned to see Bogyeus the kitchen manager standing with chicken in his hands.  The townsfolk awaited the news, but all they got was more coughing, until they thought his lung had arisen from his body.  When the coughing subsided, he announced that they had chicken now.  Somewhat bloodied and beaten, the townsfolk returned to their seats, and when the first glowing hot piece of white meat was given to the first customer, they took a big bite, breathed a sigh of relief and exclaimed......."this isn't cooked, get me another" and with that the brawl started again........just another day at the harvest.