The wind was blowing strong in the fields of Agatha Helgander Farms. The tall grass was swaying, and the chickens were getting anxious. Nearby, a young Shreka was walking towards the chicken coop when something caught her eye. She walked closer to it and could not make out what she had found.

“WHAT is this turd? It looks like Aunt Pagatha’s last kidney,” She exclaimed.

            Although she was confused about the origin of this object, she grabbed it and put it in her bag. Shreka continued walking and made her way to the chicken coop. As she arrived, she made sure to check her surroundings. That object had to come from somewhere, she thought. Shreka walked into the coop and the chickens were immediately excited to see her. She whispered in an excited tone, “Oh I do love my chickens. They are so beautiful and have a fluff. I love fluff.” Then she continued her duties by feeding, caring, and sleeping with them. No one could ever break the bond that Shreka had with her chickens.

            Later that evening, Shreka returned to the main house on Agatha Helgander Farms. She approached the back door, but instantly sensed that something was wrong. She heard movement in the bushes and could smell something that definitely was not chicken. Shreka took out her fox repellant from a small bag and approached the bushes. Step by step, she grew closer. Crick … Crack … Crick … Crack … AHH! Something rushed out from behind the bushes and ran over towards the chicken coop.

“No!! Not my chickens! I will not have it.” She sprinted towards the back door of the chicken coop and ran inside.

            The chickens were alarmed that she had returned so soon and immediately sensed danger.
The only thing she could hear over the chicken’s was a sweet whisper from Shreka, “My dearest chickens, do not fret. No one can touch you as long as I am here. I will just stay with you and tend to your needs.”

            The chickens relaxed and slowly eased. Shreka remained with the chickens for the rest of the day.  It seemed as though it only took a few hours before she fell into a deep sleep. The chickens were safe.

            Shreka awoke the next morning to the sound of a nearby rustling in the bushes. She got up instantly and ran outside the coop. Although she could not see anything odd, she could smell something that was rather… different. She wandered around her chicken coop to make sure no one was near the chickens and that all was clear. As she made her way towards the bushes, her foot landed on one of her chicken traps that she had forgotten to take down. Within an instant, she was shredded of all her hair and her socks were gone. How could I possibly have made this net so large and aggressive?, she pondered.

“Oh dear, not to fret. I’m sure the chickens will find me eventually … It is quite cold in here. My feet feel like they are being tickled by that nice Amish boy down the road,” Shreka whispered to herself.

            Eventually after 2 hours had passed, she had finally chewed her way out of the net that captured her. She stood up, brushed herself off, and started walking towards the bushes. She pulled the object that she had found on the ground yesterday out of her bag and examined it again. It’s almost as if I could put this on my foot, but it’d be for a little me. How odd, she thought. Shreka went to the chicken coop and walked inside. Something that she had never seen before appeared, and she knew exactly what it was.

“God almighty. It is the chicken god of all gods. The ruler of all chicken. You have no fluff, but I will still capture you and strip you of your intestines. Come here,” Shreka pleaded.

            The young eight year old boy that lay before her was covered in chicken feathers and couldn’t make a sound. He had one missing shoe that looked very much like the object that was in Shreka’s bag. She looked at him with curiosity and wondered why this chicken god chose her farm. Before Shreka could say anything, the boy got up instantly and ran out of the chicken coop faster than Aunt Shreka XII.

“Chicken god, come back! Come back!” Shreka shrieked.

She grabbed her best chicken catcher and ran after him. After a straight sprint for twenty seconds, Shreka collapsed.

“I am so weak, my chickens. I must capture Sir Chicken God, but how?” Shreka pleaded.

            Then it hit her. Immediately she got up and launched her chicken catcher. It threw out a giant net that covered over 7 ½ meters. Shreka ran towards the chicken boy and grabbed him by the ankles. I am God, she thought.

            They returned later that night to her shack, and waiting for her were the police. Cop cars and everything surrounded Shreka’s chicken coop. One cop with an avocado noticed them in the distance.

“Hey boys! We got ‘em. Let’s roll!” He yelled.

They caught Shreka and the boy, and they arrested her on the spot.

“Shreka Agatha Helgander, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of an eight year old boy,” the man said.

“Who are you chickens?! Where did you come from? Why are you not preparing to birth chickens?! Take me to my coop, immediately!” Shreka cried.

The boy was returned to his family with a severe case of PTSD and never left home again. As for Shreka, she was locked in an asylum with all of her chickens for the next 37 years. All she ever wanted were her little babies, and she had them. No one could separate the bond between Shreka and her chickens.