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Language:
English
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Fanfics I Wish Were Canon 3000
Stats:
Published:
2022-07-25
Completed:
2022-10-14
Words:
496
Chapters:
2/2
Comments:
8
Kudos:
106
Bookmarks:
10
Hits:
1,249

Chickens, he says!

Summary:

Randy had faced robots, evil sorcerers, and mutant stank monsters.

But chickens? Chickens were his limit.

(Theresa's sweet encouragement and Howard's chuckles were not helping.)

Chapter 1

Notes:

2025 EDIT: Took the crossover out because it was bothering me.

Chapter Text

Theresa had brought the chicken in for her science project.

 

Apparently, it was part of some “domesticated animal behavior” study, which sounded cool to her but was slowly turning into Randy’s personal horror movie.

 

“Take that away from me!” Randy yelped, stumbling backward as Theresa held the fluffy bird up.

 

“Aww, but she’s so cute!” Theresa cooed, nuzzling the chicken like it was a puppy.

 

“Do you want to kill me?!”

 

From the back of the room, Howard snorted. “Bro, chill, it’s just a chicken.”

 

Randy’s eyes were wide. “Just a—do you know what chickens are? They’re fast, unpredictable, pecking machines! They have talons, Howard!”

 

“I thought they had feet,” Debbie muttered from her seat, blinking.

 

“They’re technically dinosaurs!” Randy insisted, voice cracking just slightly. “And they have amazing color vision. They can see your soul, Howard!”

 

Howard leaned over to Bash, who was pretending to sleep two rows back. “Ten bucks says he passes out if it clucks.”

 

Bash grunted. “Not takin’ that bet. Dude’s already twitchin’.”

 

Randy kept rambling about omnivores and beaks and something about ancient instincts when Howard finally turned to Theresa. “Okay, but real talk—where’d you even get a chicken?”

 

Theresa giggled. “McFist had one in the bio lab. Said I could borrow it if I didn’t bring it back ninja’d.”

 

Randy groaned. “Everything in this school is cursed…”

 

The chicken clucked softly.

 

Randy screamed.

 

Chapter 2: Give it a try

Chapter Text

“C’mon, man, it’s gonna be fine,” Howard said, nudging Randy gently toward the desk where the chicken now sat in a tiny box filled with shredded paper. Theresa had even added stickers to the box. It looked… terrifyingly cheerful.

 

Randy shook his head violently. “This is how it ends. Not by robots. Not by sorcerers. Not even by McFist’s latest abomination. I’m gonna get pecked into oblivion by a science chicken!”

 

“It’s not even looking at you,” Debbie said flatly.

 

“It’s plotting,” Randy whispered.

 

Howard sighed and leaned against the table. “Okay, what if—hypothetically—you touch the chicken, freak out, and then I cook it so we can have drumsticks at lunch?”

 

Randy blinked. “WHAT?!”

 

“That was a joke,” Theresa cut in quickly, shooing Howard away with a glare. “No one’s cooking Clara.”

 

“You named it?!” Randy looked horrified. “That makes it worse!”

 

Still, he hesitantly stepped forward, twitching slightly with every cluck. Theresa held the chicken up encouragingly. “She’s really friendly. I swear.”

 

Randy reached out with one trembling hand… got close… closer…

 

The chicken cooed softly.

 

He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

 

“Randy!” Theresa yelped, setting the chicken down gently.

 

Howard waved a hand in front of Randy’s face. “Welp. There’s your horrified expression. We’re done here.”

 

Theresa groaned. “Can someone get Nurse Poundcake?”

 

Bash, now awake and very invested, grinned. “I’ll do it. This story’s gonna be hilarious in detention.”

 

Howard tried to sneak closer to the chicken again, but Theresa swatted his hands away.

 

“No roasting Clara,” she warned.

 

Howard pouted. “But she’d go great with barbecue sauce…”