Three times they invaded, each time with increasingly devious plans. Squawks, feathers flying, the smell of charred chicken everywhere. With a greasy finger I set my lasers to "extra crispy" and blasted off to intercept the fowl invaders.It wasn't easy. I dropped my half-eaten chicken burger and jumped in my cockpit. Invading intergalactic chickens, out to punish humanity for our oppression of their earthly brethren.I instantly knew what had to be done. The memories still burn deeply, like spicy chicken wings.They came without warning, squawking menacingly, their ruffled feathers darkening the sun.
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