Pecked to Death by the Cannibal Chickens

Well I’ll be dipped in the colonel’s secret sauce!  I just learned something ground splattering: Chicken cannibalism isn’t the new, che-che underground cult I thought it was. 

That’s right.  It turns out chicken cannibalism has been known about and written about for years, at least since 2002, when Jay Rossier wrote in Living with Chickens that:   “…grown chickens will sometimes peck on their coopmates under certain circumstances, and the results can be bloodily disastrous in a very short time.”

Jay devotes more than one disturbing page to describing the age-old practice of chicken cannibalism.  Why those cannibal chickens don’t even wait till their meal dies to start a’dining!  Just get too close under “certain circumstances” and that chicken’s liable to take a’pecking on you (if you’re a chicken, that is).  That’s taking this whole ”living food” thing just way too far. 

When I was a small child, I had a chicken that liked to peck on me.  We named it “Pecky.”  And now I know that mean little pecker was really trying to filler-up on Me meat!  No thank you, I’ll take chickens who eat chicken over chickens who eat me any day of the year.

Of course, letting your chickens out to smoke and drink at the local cannibal chicken saloon is the quickest and surest way to stop this bloody disaster of live feeding.

St. Valentine’s Day Soup for the Cannibal Chicken’s Soul

Love is more-than-normally complicated for the perplexed chicken with a taste for… chicken, and the people who love them.

Cannibal chickens have mixed feelings about their double yearnings — for romantic love with another chicken on the one hand and for the gastronomic satisfaction of a barbecued breast and drumstick on the other. 

What with eating other chickens a real taboo among chickens, cannibal chickens typically must limit their romantic interest to other cannibal chickens.  This concentration of cannibal-chicken clans only serves to further distort their dietary freakishness, leading to a potential powder keg of Kentucky-fried cravings.

(Or at least so at my house.)

Anyway, until recently Valentine’s Day was a fairly lonesome affair for many a cannibal chicken who had no means of meeting other cannibal chickens for conversation, sex, or anything in between.  Until now.  Thanks to the Internet, cannibal chickens are making community like never before, on-line and off. 

Today, cannibal chicken raves and speak-easy-style singles bars (known as cluck-easy’s) are increasingly common in more chicken-dense counties.  Any fowl expert will tell you, these bird-eating birds are hooking up, hitching up, and hatching up more… cannibal chickens.

Coming up on Bad Apple in February, you’ll want to stay tuned for our super-sexy Valentines Day feature all about how some lucky cannibal chickens will be spending their V-Day at the most romantic chicken-roast for chickens you can possible imagine.  (Images of hot crackling chicken over a blazing fire and a room of revelling chicken couples toasting to romance and the growing underground cannibal-chicken-restaurant industry).

Then we’ll follow one couple out to a night of partying and dancing, including the first reports ever from inside San Francisco’s hippest cluck-easy’s.

Remember, Bad Apple is the only media outlet that provides any coverage of cannibal chickens, or that even admits they exist.

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More future stories in the works:

What it Means to Love a Cannibal Chicken.

Cannibal Chicken Graft Gangs: Community Success Strategies.

To Dress or Not to Dress Your Cannibal Chicken, 5 FAQs

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     Want more now?

Visit the original Chicken Soup for the Cannibal Chicken’s Soul book announcement that started it all. 

Visit all Bad Apple stories that mention the Cannibal Chickens.

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Holidays: A Timeless Pull Down the Year’s Drain

Holidays rarely if ever thrill me, but why do the end of the year “festivities” have to drag on for months, dooming an otherwise perfectly-good cold dark miserable season?  Isn’t it bad enough old father time went from infancy to dodderdom in one little year, and that we have get our tax crap tied up on top of all the melty moments at parties to endure, pre-paid in one of the season’s thousand ridiculously-long lines.  Where in the world do all these folks come from this time of year, and why are they all in my grocer’s parking lot? Just one of the many mysteries of the season.  

Then there’s the office party, a political obstacle course that you run with several deviled eggs balancing on the end your plate; the endless wondering over what to get who and who to get anything; the forced time together with the strangers you haven’t seen since the last holiday (ie your “family”); in other words, the pure fun of the season.

If the stress of the holidays gets you down, well, hey, there’s always some time-tested holiday entertainment to get you out of your funk.  Only unfortunately, you’ve seen the Nutcraker about fourteen hundred times too many, and you aren’t under 18, so probably none of the holiday entertainment will actually appeal to you. Oh well.  There’s always the bars to hit, as long as they don’t force you to join in singing Christmas carols.  Can’t there be a law against that? 

As for me, even though I really can’t stand Thanksgiving above all, I lately have found it’s important to look for things to be thankful for in the world.  Why? Because otherwise I start to grow so hellashiosly negative and nasty that people begin to treat me like a social canker sore, and that is the last thing I need as the dark days start to crowd my head-space.  So I’m damn grateful to have at least one thing to be awfully grateful about this time of year, and that is the best holiday movie ever, hell, probably the best holiday anything ever: Bad Santa.  Man, that’s one funny flick!

So as you might imagine, I’ll be enjoying a little much-needed downtime this holiday season, just me, Hank and the cannibal chickens.  I’m trying to turn them on to Tofurky, as part of my new year resolution to reduce the monthly household guilt bill.  I can’t keep running to KFC at 3 am all the time.  If I see one more chicken bucket full of chicken-scoured chicken bones I swear, I’m gonna be sick.

Warning: Annual Retrospective Season Looms

It’s that time of year when everyone (in the media) takes a quick glimpse back at the last 12 months before jumping blind into the next 12 months.  Time to revive for one last moment all the folks who croaked, the famous ones I mean, and all the big disasters (especially the ones they have pictures for). They always include a few of the good things that folks might have done, crazy heroic acts and heartfelt philanthropy for some total heartbreak case, not to mention all the year’s developments in the big news stories and in the latest teen idol’s complete disintegration.  

Hard to give a crap about the geopolitical quagmire, but damn I need my latest teen-idol disintegration news just to get me out of bed in the morning, how about you?

Bad Apple also feels a certain retrospective impulse coming on, because I’m celebrating the one year birthday of the Bad Apple Blog on December 6.  It’s been a year of discovery, invention, and strangeness at Bad Apple, and I’m going try to ruminate on the high points, exorcise the garbage, and generally get a handle on where all this rot is headed heading into the great 20 ot eight.

For example, I’m going to take a hard look at potatoes vs. tomatoes.  In 2008, I predict all-out war between the potato and the tomato stories here at Bad Apple. Such vegetable rivalries never end up pretty.

Also, what about the cannibal chickens?  Will they remain misunderstood freaks or will they become the new It-chickens of tomorrow?  Stranger things have happened, folks, so don’t be laughing at my predictions’ predictor, now. 

Well, this is just a preview of the kind of deep bad apple pie-style thinking I’ll be serving up in December.  As a friend, I strongly discourage you from facing the annual retrospective season without regular, inoculating visits to this site.

My Cannibal Chickens’ Summer Vacation

I’m sorry I haven’t written, but please understand that I had to get the cannibal chickens out of the house for a while.  They were getting extremely testy, threatening to hold cock fights in the living room and behaving just wretchedly. So we threw them in the car, and brought them out to a campground which shut them right up, for  a while anyway.

Imagine my surprise when the ranger came by the first evening and asked me if I had any dogs, cats, or cannibal chickens with me.  “Why yes, yes, sir, as a matter of fact I do have several cannibal chickens right over there in the tent.”

Well, he looked at me like I had told him the mother of all mean bastard chickens was in there.  Stammering, he managed to explain that there’s a $1 fee for dogs, but no fee for cannibal chickens, thanks to the wisdom of our stately bureaucrats here out West.  That really doesn’t seem fair, but seeing as it saved me at least enough to buy the boys some KFC upon our return, well, I can hardly find it in me to lodge a complaint.  I think this is what they mean when they say, “you have to pick your battles.”

After I gave the ranger my check for the campsite, he slowly backed away into the dying evening light.

“Don’t let your cannibal chickens run wild over the campground now, ya hear?” he warned, disappearing down the lane. 

So you can understand now why the long delay since my last post.  But fear not, Bad Apple is revving up for a new season of smashing satire, withering wit, and everything required to reduce the will of the regime to a thin, gummy residue.

 Coming Soon: The Cannibal Chickens dive for abalone!

Cannibal Chicken Stories for Cannibal Chickens’ Souls

Here’s a few samples from the new book, Chicken Soup for the Cannibal Chicken’s Soul, previously announced here on Bad Apple.

It started with a disgarded McNugget, the cruel one threw it and laughed when I ate it.  I didn’t understand then.  I was eating my own kind.  And boy, did it taste good…. –by Never Looked Back

Here’s part of a piece we call “Pecky’s Story”

I was a mean kid. I’d peck and peck at my mates, until one day they found a KFC drumstick and locked me in a coop with it alone until I ate it.  They thought it would teach me something — it did: to crave KFC like nothing else…

From the chapter on Groups:

I was in a gang of chickens, we’d hang out in back of Pollo Loco.  We were sick freaks, we’d intimidate the staff into giving up some of that barbequed chicken. They’d throw it out the door and we’d tear into it like a pack of hyenas. Yeah, those were the days…. –by Tito

Of course, the chickens in the chicken commercials are the ultimate chicken cannibals, so of course there’s a chapter by one of them.  Carl the Commercial Chicken writes:

I know it’s a little wierd, me being a chicken and making a bundle off of dead chickens.  But it’s not that wierd, really, because, well, it’s only chicken! So who cares? You eat chicken, I eat chicken.  I sell chicken.  I am a chicken.  So what?  It’s all good….

Today it’s harder than ever to be a chicken cannibal, so please be nice to chicken cannibals and please buy this book, a portion of which will go to chicken cannibal rehabilitation.

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And Now, Coming Soon! A New Title from Bad Apple Books:

The Penis-Growth Marketers Guide to Penis-Growth Marketing

Learn the ins and outs of the expanding Penis-Growth field and you, too, can get ahead — whether you are just starting out in Penis-Growth or an old pro boning up on the hottest trends. Don’t miss this instant classic about an exciting thrill zone of rising opportunity that promises not to climax for years to come.

Chicken Soup for the Cannibal Chicken’s Soul

It’s not easy being a cannibal chicken, eating other chickens all the time.  That’s why our editors have brought together 56 of the most heartwarming cannibal chicken stories you can imagine.   We cover every stage of the chicken cannibal’s life, from the lost innocence of the first taste to the guilty pleasures of snacking on KFC and McNuggets. 

Each uplifting story will remind readers why they became chicken cannibals in the first place, ultimately affirming their difficult diet choice in the face of noisy and smelly opposition.

Readers who bought this, also purchased these titles:

Human Soup for the Chicken Soul

Chicken Soup for the Tuna Fish Soul

Do let us know what titles you would like to see us produce next.