“Private Chuck-Bob!”
“Uh, yes sir! Right here sir! Say, uh, sir, it’s kinda hard to keep up with you pacing like that. Sir.”
“Private Chuck-Bob!”
“Uh, yessir?”
“Do you have a health malfunction that prevents you from walking apace with your commanding officer?”
“Uh, health malfunc – oh, uh no sir.”
“Very good, Private Chuck-Bob. What is our status, Private?”
“Uh, sir?”
“Have you come in contact with our target, Private Chuck-Bob?”
“Uh, do you mean the chicken, sir?”
“Private Chuck-Bob!”
“Uh, yes sir?”
“Of course I mean the chicken, Private Chuck-Bob! Have you found the chicken?!”
“Oh, uh, no sir, reports from the MPs indicate no chicken spotted.”
“Private Chuck-Bob, was the janitor’s apartment located and searched?”
“Um, let me check. Yep, yep it was, sir. We found another feather or two, but no sign of the, chick- um targets, sir.”
“That is disappointing, Private Chuck-Bob, disappointing indeed.”
“Uh, yes sir, sorry sir.”
“Private Chuck-Bob!”
“Yessir!”
“Have the MPs set up a perimeter?”
“Yessir. That was the first thing we did sir. Set up a perimeter, sir.”
“Very good Private Chuck-Bob. And is there air cover?”
“Yessir, we have an MP helicopter on continuous-like monitoring.”
“Excellent, Private Chuck-Bob.”
“Yessir. If they’re here, sir, we’ll find them. Sir.”
“For all our sakes, Private Chuck-Bob, I hope you’re right.”
“Yessir, me too sir. I hope I’m right too, sir. I mean -”
“Nevermind, Private Chuck-Bob. We’ll find that chicken . . . Private Chuck-Bob! Look – over there!”
“Sir?! Oh, my good gosh darned sir, it’s a chicken! Get it! Get it!”
“Find the MPs Private Chuck-Bob, close in, but don’t scare it away. Get the helicopter on the radio, make sure it doesn’t fly away. Run Private Chuck-Bob! Run!”
“Sir, stay back sir, don’t scare it. I’ve grabbed me a bunch of chickens in my life, and it ain’t easy. Distract it from over there sir. That’s it. That’s it. Now!”
“By Jiminy Private Chuck-Bob, you did it! You captured the target, I am deeply and terribly impressed. Hold that chicken tightly, Private Chuck-Bob. Don’t let it go! Hot dang! We did it! Private Chuck-Bob – I may recommend you for a commendation, Private Chuck-Bob. Wait – why are those MPs over there celebrating?”
“I, I don’t know, sir. It – it looks like they’re holding a – well I’ll be a three eyed horn-toad, it looks like they’re holding a chicken!”
“But we have the target Private Chuck-Bob. We have the target.”
“But those men are holding a brown chicken.”
“Dear God, it looks just like this brown chicken. Could there be two targets, Private Chuck-Bob?!”
“There must be, sir, but wait- over there, there’s another one.”
“And, Private Chuck-Bob, there’s another over there! What in the Sam Hill is going on here?!”
“Chickens are everywhere sir! They’re everywhere!”
“Get them all Private Chuck-Bob! Don’t let even one escape!”
“Sir! Yessir! I – I don’t think I can sir!”
“Hey! All you MPs, round up every last chicken! Don’t let even one escape! Hey! HEY! Where are you going, you’re not – hey!”
“Sir, over the radio, sir. It’s HQ. They’re asking for you.”
“Hand me that radio, Private Chuck-Bob.”
“Yessir.”
“This is – yes Sir. Of course, Sir. No, the target, well, Sir it’s complicat – yes Sir. But Sir, we haven’t acquired the targe- yes Sir. How much does a helicopter cost per day, Sir? Two thousand dollars an hour, Sir? Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir. But Sir, the target – yes, Sir, I am aware the target is a chicken, Sir. . . . Taxpayer dollars, Sir? But Sir, this is a very special chic – yes, Sir. Right away, Sir. I understand, Sir. Thank you Sir. . .
“Private Chuck-Bob, here, take the radio. Inform the MPs that they will be returning to base. Please advise them to return any captured chickens to their original locations of capture. This chicken-hunt is over Private Chuck-Bob.”
“But sir, the fate of the world, sir!”
“I know Private Chuck-Bob, I know. But orders are orders. . . We will just have to continue our search in a different mode, Private Chuck-Bob. A more stealthy and secret mode.”
“Stealthy? Sir?”
“Yes, Private Chuck-Bob, we must hunt for the chicken without the use of these – ahem, rather costly – ahem – resources.”
“Oh, right, sir. The helicopter and such, sir.”
“Yes, Private Chuck-Bob, we must search without the helicopter.”
“Well, sir, if it makes you feel better, sir, chickens can’t really fly as much as you might think. Probably not enough for a helicopter to be useful.”
“Private Chuck-Bob, that does not make me feel better.”
“Oh, uh, sorry sir.”
“Private Chuck-Bob!”
“Yessir!”
“We will find this chicken, I swear it. We. Will. Find. This. Chicken.”
“Sir! Yes, sir!”
The Continuing Adventures of Crimson Hen 