The Unthinkable

The unthinkable has happened. Yet another hen has met an untimely end. This time it was Deirdre McCluckskey, the last of the Rhode Island Reds. A witness to her final moments had this to say:

"This morning she looked weak. She was breathing heavy and was lying in the dirt in the way back, underneath the coop. She wouldn't come out when I fed them, so I went back and looked in on her this afternoon and found her almost dead. I said to her, 'Who did this to you? Who is the killer?' She mumbled something, too quietly for me to hear, so I leaned in and heard her say, weakly, with her last breath, 'Rosebud.' I was stunned. I mean, I didn't even know she was a fan of Orson Welles, although I guess it makes sense given the film's themes of economics, power and ethics."

The witness sighed, then cast a wary glance in the direction of the six remaining hens before she bundled up Deirdre's body and left the coop. None of the hens made eye contact with her, but busied themselves instead with pecking each other and pooping on the last few remaining patches of clean snow. After the witness was gone, Mech Warrior climbed up to the highest perch and was heard cackling ominously to herself, "House Liao is ascendant!"

Asylum

Not willing to wait around to see who would die next, three enterprising young hens applied for asylum in a coop in Denver. With the help of one of the co-opers, they drafted a plea, although it took some time for their document to be understood. "I can barely read this chicken scratch," Sabrina said. "Why don't you just dictate to me and I'll fill out the forms."

Mr. Pants indicated that previous statements given to a reporter have now endangered her life. She had mentioned illegal activities and hinted that the mafia might be behind all this, and now she's been labeled a stool pigeon. "Can you imagine? To be associated with pigeons? Everyone knows they're filthy birds. The rats of the bird kingdom." Not only is she offended, she lives in fear every moment. "If I wasn't a target before, I certainly am now. Now that they think I'm a snitch. My days are numbered. Please help."

Crystal Meth said that she fears she's likely to die next, not from a pair of cement boots, but from her own addictions. "I was never willing to get treatment before, but all this death has really made me see how precious life is. If you'll allow me in to your sanctuary, I'll follow through with rehab. I'll be a better chicken. I want to live a cleaner life."

Neil Young requested preferential treatment, due to her celebrity status. "I know we like to think we live in an egalitarian society, but given the way the paparazzi behaves, we celebrities sometimes need to be sheltered from the rest of the population." When asked if she was concerned about the deaths in the coop, she looked puzzled. "Deaths? What are you talking about? I'm just trying to get out of this hole. Get with some hens of my own caliber. Anyway, I'm, like, a pacifist. So I would be against that. Against death. I'm anti-war and anti-death and all that." Noticing that she finally had someone paying attention to her, she continued, "As you go through life, you've got to see the valleys as well as the peaks," then she began to ramble about the good old days. "Back then people closed their eyes and listened to music. Today there's a lot of images that go with the music. A lot of music is crap and it's all commercial and the images are all trying to sell the record."

After several tense weeks of waiting and watching their backs, all three chickens were granted asylum and transported to their new home in Denver.

Farewell, Friends

Over the past year, two more hens have followed Penelope to the big coop in the sky. The Whig Party (top) and Old Paint (below) both went toward the light, despite the attempts of this Red Cross worker to resuscitate them with mouth to beak. The rest of the coop was left saddened and more than a bit wary. Rumors abound as to the cause of the deaths, and not a single hen believes the Rhode Island Reds died of natural causes. The coop is well known for its power struggles, attempted coups, and social stratification, and so naturally the gossip has been flying in the henhouse all year.

Neil Young, who as always been a loner, is a likely suspect, although one of the hens dismissed this, saying, "The lone gunman theories are always just a front for a much larger conspiracy. Neil Young didn't do this. Anyway, we all know Neil Young is, like, a pacifist."

Mother Clucker, known for her down-to-earth style is probably the last hen you'd suspect. "But don't you see?" Lee Smith interjected. "It's the perfect cover. She thinks nobody would ever suspect her, so she can just keep smothering us in our sleep." Mother Clucker pecked Lee Smith on the head. "You're one to talk," she responded. "We all know you were a human in your past life. Only a human would do something as evil as this."

A hen, who insisted on anonymity, pointed the finger at Deirdre McCluckskey, as she is the only remaining Rhode Island Red. "Everyone knows you dominate your peer group first, before you make a move on the rest of the chickens. What better way to dominate them than to murder them in their sleep. Deirdre is a stone cold killer. Believe it."

When asked for her take on the situation, Deirdre was appalled that anyone could think that she was to blame. "Don't you see what's happening? Someone is out to rule the coop, and they're terrorizing us with these killings. Everyone knows the Reds are the nicest and the least skittish, that's why we're being targeted. Obviously I'm next! I knew prejudice against gingers ran deep, but I didn't know it would come to this. I go to sleep every night wondering if I'm going to wake up in the morning. Is this corn cob to be my last treat?" She pecked glumly at the kernels still clinging to the cob.

Naturally, the Leghorns (Crystal Meth, The Knife, Rampage!, and Mr. Pants) are suspected of shady business due to their generally antisocial behavior. Mr. Pants tried to distance herself from the other Leghorns, as usual, stating that she never has been involved with the mafia, not as a drug-runner nor in any other capacity. "I can't say the same for these other hens," she added in a huff. "We reap what we sow."

This is the first we've heard of possible mafia infiltration in the coop. We'll keep you updated.

A Sad, Sad Day

It was a sad, sad day last winter when Penelope, the friendliest and most beloved of all the chickens, was found dead in the coop. The humans say she was probably egg-bound, but the chickens themselves have their own theories. The leghorns, known for their lightening speed, said it was her own fault for getting too friendly with the visitors. "She should have run faster when visitors came around. Visitors have germs. Everyone knows this. Especially the little ones with the runny noses." The rest of the hens dismissed this theory, particularly Deirde, who is sort of an expert on theoretical things. "We hens are immune to the various pustulant illnesses that afflict our visitors. No, I suspect something more sinister..." she lowered her voice, "...I think she may have been murdered in her sleep." A hush fell over the coop.

Penelope was taken out into the yard and was given a ceremonial burial. A candle was passed around and words were spoken in honor of Penny's warmth and vivacity. She will be missed most of all by the neighborhood children, as she was the only chicken they were ever able to catch. Even when they picked her up by the wings, she didn't complain. Even when they petted her too hard and made her head twist into funny angles, she always came back for more. She wasn't a real quick learner, but she sure was friendly.