Case 58:
WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD?
Why did it cross that road all those years ago? That feathered jerk…
What did it know? What did it do?
Why is it on the Epstein flight list? Did it kill JFK? Lincoln? Garfield?
Who knows how many have met their end by its feathery hand… wait… chickens don’t have hands!
WHAT ARE THE ELEVEN HERBS AND SPICES?
And where does its story even begin? The chicken, or the egg???
All these and more on…
Detective Zenzonegaming
I will be honest with you dear Truth Seeker, unraveling this tangled web of mystery and depravity was without a doubt the most difficult thing I have ever accomplished, and it took the better part of a year of closely examining various piles of asphalt and combing through ancient Imperial German records. But the sheer amount of TRUTH brought into the world by my discoveries more than makes up for it!!!1!
I’ve got that clucking abomination of nature right where I want it… and now I can confidently say, winner winner chicken dinner!
No doubt it’s hiding away like the chicken it is, trembling at the thought of all its dirty little secrets getting out.
It knows it can’t do anything to stop me. Not now! It had the chance in Cuba, but I was too wily for it to get a lock on with that rocket.
Speaking of I think that rocket hit a Russian naval base and it might have kicked off some kind of conflict. I haven’t been looking at the news too much since I’ve been stranded in Los Angoles but I’m sure they sorted it out fine.
But now I have kept you waiting for long enough. You need the story, you crave the juicy details of debauchery and assassination that is the legacy of the chicken who crossed the road.
Chickens all ultimately crave one thing. They may desire others, such as nice clear skies or the delicacy of a mealworm, but these are fleeting wants. Insignificant in the greater scheme of things. Ultimately, there is only one eternal goal resting within their mind. power.
They do not simply lust for it, they need it. They need the glory of being powerful. They need the satisfaction of being able to choose whoever they want to die. They need the ecstasies of unshackled sadism and hedonism.
But despite their evil dreams of their souls, they are forever cursed to the bodies of small, harmless balls of tasty meat without even the fists to punch things with. Because of this they spend their days ruing the fact that they were not instead born fifty foot tall dinosaurs capable of committing countless atrocities against their chosen most-hated-ethnicity. Lamenting the reality that they were not born at the very least a member of the National Socialist German Workers’ Party or the Home Owner’s Association. Truly, it is a pitiable existence.
But one chicken did not accept this fate. This ‘destiny’ of slowly growing more and more depressed until it got turned into nuggies. It decided to take the lemons life handed it, and shove them into the eyes of everyone it came across in order to inflict as much of its pain upon others as possible.
It.
Crossed.
The.
ROAD.
That being specifically E 5th street. And once it got to the other side it immediately went into the tailor’s which was located on that side of the road.
That’s right, I just revealed why the chicken crossed the road. But my story doesn’t end there.
The chicken bought a suit using all the eggs it stole from the egg laying megaplex located on the other other side of the road. The side where it just came from. Do try to keep up smh.
And with that suit it was able to disguise itself as a regular human, just like you or me. But this human wasn’t regular. It was a chicken!
With this suit it was easily able to convince the public to give it money through its new access to suit magic, and once it obtained this money it naturally went into competition with the sworn enemies of all chicken kind since The Garden. Beluga Whales.
Within the month all whales had gone extinct. And while I’m sure none of us were sad to see the Baleen Whale spare us of its presence, the losses of the Belugas, Sperms, and Blues deeply devastated the majority of humanity, and led to a horrific rise in the number of ticket sales for Space Jam 5.
Luckily after a little bit of time travel I put a stop to all of that and even found the time to kill Malcolm D. Lee, erasing Space Jams 3-48 from existence. Sadly I wasn’t able to get to him in time to stop Space Jam 2. While I was at it I also told Jay Leno that Morbius 2 would be like the next Citizen Kane or something so I’m pretty sure he’s working on it.
But by doing that I had caught the chicken’s attention. It recognized me instantly. How could it not? I was El Pollo Loco’s millionth customer…
After this it became completely obsessed with putting me sleeping with the fishes. And then afterwards it planned to kill me! While I was all snug and cozy in bed with the fishies!
Diabolical.
Our battle was legendary, though no one’s ever heard of it. Before now.
We dueled on Mount Everest, traded shots in the Australian Outback during the third Emu War, raced for our very lives in Mario Kart… but no matter what tricks we pulled, what allies called in, we were evenly matched.
There was nothing we could do but wait until one of us got tired enough to make a mistake. Something that would cost us our lives.
And in the end, I made the fatal mistake.
But then afterwards I was a ghost so I sort of just possessed the chicken and made it jump off a cliff. And since animals don’t have souls, that means I’ve won!
Hehehe… anyways I’m currently stuck in limbo between the lands of the living and the dead and I need someone to either finish my business or find me a body to inhabit because it’s getting boring here.
All in all this is why I’ve decided to petition X to ban Miley Cirus.