If We Were Chickens
Thoughts of Michael
Can you imagine if we were chickens? No humans in the world. Just smart chickens. (not smart as in smart phones) But smart and tall chickens going to work and school. Playing in the park. Driving cars and trucks, trains and planes.
I mean, not everyone would be smart. There would be super genius chickens and those who did silky things, like not wear a chicken helmet or choose to not get a chicken vaccine, not wear a chicken seat belt.
According to Statista.com, a global statistics website, there are over 25 billion chickens worldwide. Just thirty years ago, there were only 10 billion. That’s 2.5X more in thirty years. Our planet would be a wild place!
If we were all chickens, I’d feel bad for all the chickens who had to lay eggs. I guess most females would have to. That would be very inconvenient at work, or school.
Nelly, I just gotta go lay an egg. I’ll be right back.
I think the worst part of it would be trying to lay the eggs while all the cocky males cockadoodledoo’d around you.
And all those cocky males driving big trucks! Yikes.
The rebellious teenage chickens would ride skateboards with purple faux-hawks. Their unclean toenails hanging off the edge of the board.
Buck buck bucccck, look at me!!
When I walk to school and pass McDonald’s, the usual teenagers would still be hanging out in chicken huddles, hopping around. They’d be eating chicken nuggets. Yeah, that’s cannibalism in this world.
I would hope all the chickens could be trained, you know, to use the bathroom. Teaching would be a mess. I’m not sure I’d keep doing it. No. I wouldn’t.
My Film class would be interesting.
…Ok, chicks, take out your cameras. We’re gonna make a documentary today about your selves. No buck bucccking allowed. Ok, shhhh…. Stop it, Harold. You need to let go of that chicken wire, it’s sharp. Sally, stop hopping around!
…So here’s the assignment. Billy, don’t go to the bathroom on the floor! Aw man!! How many times do I have to tell you?
…Ok, tell us what it’s like to be a teenager these days, especially with the pandemic. Ok? Any questions?
“Mr. Florlicken, Sally isn’t listening. She’s pecking me and it hurts.”
…Sally, do you want to fail and be a high school dropout? Do I have to tell your rooster Dad that you’re pecking your peers? That’s not nice, you know. If you drop out of high school, you’ll simply end up a deadbeat. Or, worse yet, a chicken nugget!
The class immediately falls silent. No one wants to end up a chicken nugget. Not. One.
…Alright then. Go! But remember, you’re representing our film program. Don’t peck, don’t bucck bocck, use the bathroom properly and Harold, absolutely NO cockledoodledooing!
The young chicks(chickens) grab their cameras, some tweet with their smartphones, some chirp, some snap as they chat. Tik Tok goes the clock while others continue to peck.
I ignore the pecking. I mean, you really have to choose which hill to die on. And it’s June. You gotta just let go sometimes.
I walk around the room. Harold is bugging Alice badly. He keeps hopping around looking all cocky. I hate when he gets like that. Alice stares at him, in a daze without blinking. Her eyes all glazed. She might like him, I’m not sure. I ignore it.
Cindy asks to go lay an egg. She’s early in this area. I don’t want to get into details. I say, “sure, just make sure to come back and do the assignment.” She moves her neck in a yes chicken-neck motion. I’m not sure I believe her. She’s super unpredictable that way. Always late too. Her dad is especially cocky. Her mom, though, is a very nice hen. We get along.
Most of the chicken students are engaged. Not like engaged to be married, but engaged in the project. They clack and talk talk talk, and bocck bocck bocck. And shoot some footage. They look like they’re working fairly quickly.
A young chick comes in carrying a tray of apples. It’s our fresh fruit program. All the chickens in the class drop what they’re doing, feathers are flying. Now they’re all in a fight to get the apples. It’s a mess! Dust is flying, feathers, noisy pecking and boccking.
Only a minute has passed and the whole tray is devoured except for a few seeds and red apple skins strewn on the floor. They keep looking for more, like they didn’t have enough. It’s ridiculous.
…Ok students are you ready to edit your documentaries?
A resounding YES is heard. I’m surprised, they’re done already but these chickens work fast. They’re a bright group. Will probably end up in chicken university or some might even end up chicken doctors. One wants to be a chicken lawyer, working for chicken rights. It’s admirable. So many chickens are mistreated in their jobs around the world.
They all rush over to the Macintosh computers, more feathers flying. I’m wondering what’s going on. What’s all the fuss about?
A fight breaks out. I run up to them and they’re all pecking at the imac monitors.
…What is going on here??? Stop!!
They continue, then slowly hop away, reluctantly breaking it up.
…Why are you fighting? These are very expensive Apple computers I got for editing your work. I love these computers. They are to be respected!
“Mr. Florlicken. Mr. Florlicken. I’ll tell you why, bucck bocck…. it’s because we love apples too!!”
They all jump back into a huddle around the 27” imac monitors and continue to peck away. They peck those computers until the glass shatters, the circuits smoke, feathers begin to burn. It’s an unsightly sight to see.
The room is filled with smoke, circuits and wires hang out of silver monitor cases, shattered glass covers the floor. Many of the chicks are crying. One hops out in front of the crowd, tears in their eyes.
“Mr. Florlicken. We’re sorry. Please. We beg of you. Please don’t tell our parents or they’ll send us off to become chicken nuggets.”
The whole class cawcaws and coos with worry.
…No. I won’t. I wouldn’t do that. But now that you divulged that to me, I have to tell our chicken counsellors and fill out chicken forms.
…I’ll make you a deal. When you go off and become a famous chicken doctor, or a chicken pop singer, you come back here and donate some money so we can buy new apple computers, ok? Deal?
“Aw, you’re the best, Mr. Florlicken!! Thank you for understanding.”
…You’re welcome. I care a lot about my chicken students, so it’s ok this time.
"Mr. Florlicken?”, Harvey asks.
“It’s Friday. Can we do something fun? Can we all just do the chicken dance now?”
…Sure, Harvey. Sure.
For Chicken Dance Fun Facts click here.
meaning male and female, young chickens!