The General (Part 2)

I stripped from my pajamas and grabbed my uniform. I opened the drawer to pull out my weapon, but my gun was nowhere to be seen. I looked on the floor to see if I had dropped it last night, but I found nothing except for dirty underwear.

Just as I finished buttoning my pants, a young man burst into my room.
“General Sanders! The…the chickens are revolting, sir,” he saluted.
“Stand down,” was all said. I sat to think, not speaking for minutes.
“Sir, what is our course of action?”
“Revolting…you say? Revolting how?”

“They-” at that very moment, there was a flash of white that seemed to appear from behind him and straddle his neck. He tried desperately to yank off this mysterious object, only to find it was a chicken, beak-deep into his collar bone. The boy turned around and yelped for me to help, but I knew it was too late.

The chicken used it’s talons to dig into the mans back, blood falling from his various wounds.
Finally, the man fell to the ground.

The chicken turned to me and got ready to pounce.

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