Thunderfunk the Superchicken - Chapter 21

The Stage is Set

Thunderfunk the Superchicken sat in the smoky bar, sipping his martini, gazing at the inebriated customers with barely concealed disdain. Actually, his disdain was not concealed at all, even remotely, but he was on his fourth martini of the night and was quite unaware of his own level of intoxication. He sneered at anyone who dared to sit next to him, leaving him in a satisfying personal bubble as he waited.

Waited for what? For the man who chose that moment to stride confidently, if not a bit unsteadily, through the door, stopping (and swaying slightly in a non-existent breeze) when he saw the giant chicken. “Thunder!” he roared. “What have you done to my team?”

Thunder watched as an impressive specimen of a man lumbered towards him. He was well over six feet and highly muscled. His black hair was cut short in a crew cut that he kept meticulously trimmed. He wore a modified army uniform, designed to flow better and be more breathable. Also, the arms had been removed to better show off his muscles. It was rumoured that the top was made to intentionally rip away so that all could see every muscle on his torso, but, though it happened in nearly every fight he fought, it had yet to be proved. His combat boots were highly buffed, and his pants hid an impressive array of weapons.

He did not rely on purely physical prowess, however. It was said that during night combat overseas somewhere he had performed and ancient and sacred ritual that had bestowed him with mystical powers - powers to control the minds of others, to perform incredible feats of strength, and to go a long time without food, water, or even air. These rumours had been started and maintained by First Lieutenant Awesomepants himself.

The truth was he drank some sort of funky serum, untested on anyone or anything, and it granted the ability to slow time, decrease gravity around himself (thus granting him the appearance of super strength) and to break wind that always smelled like lilacs in a warm summer breeze. The serum also contained many steroids which explained his muscles. He could not control minds, but he was an extremely persuasive speaker which made people think he could control their mind. The part about not needing food, water, or even air, was a complete fabrication.

“Thunder!” he roared again, coming to a halt in front of the giant chicken. The two foes stood face to face for a long time, glaring. Finally, Awesomepants spoke again. “Thunder!”

“What?” answered the chicken.

“I...I don’t remember.”

“Well good, because neither do I.”

Awkwardly staring at each other for another minute, the two scratched their heads in wonder. Finally Thunderfunk gestured to the bar. “Drink?” he inquired.

“Don’t mind if I do,” replied his arch nemesis. They sat down beside each other, Thunder with his fifth martini, and Awesomepants with his seventh beer of the evening.

Quietly, the rest of the customers exited the bar. They knew what was going to happen next.