Kenyon-based Weekly World News
Reporter: Shawn Bakken
It was a sad day in the small town of Podunk, Ohio, several weeks ago when the majority of the Shitkicker Trailer Park returned from a John Cougar Mellencamp concert to find their homes in ruins.
Trailers had been tossed around the park, beater cars that were still in the area were strewn about the various lots, and feathers were scattered all over the grounds. These now-homeless people of Podunk quickly came to a realization: their trailers had been attacked by killer chickens.
This conclusion became evident not just because of the feather-covered ground and the empty chicken coops, but because many trailers suffered more than just dents and stress damage: a majority of them had featherless chickens forcefully embedded in their aluminum sides.
“Well, it was pretty obvious when we found everything like this,” said Jimbo Hunkton. “Ain’t nothin’ could mess things up this bad but something we never seen before. Hell, it tossed my trailer way the hell over there and I had just pulled a load of cinderblocks into my kitchen last week—shoulda weighed things down good, but goddamn!”
One Shitkicker who wished to remain anonymous felt certain that the chickens embedded in the trailers were responsible. “I never trusted them things in the first place. Didn’t like the way they clucked. I’m guessin’ they flagged down them super-chickens, and when the bastards was done tearing everything up, they killed ’em to make sure there weren’t no witnesses to give ’em away. Damn little traitors. We raised ’em like they was our own kids, too, by makin’ sure we never kicked ’em in the head too hard.”
Several residents of the suburban area of Podunk insist they saw a funnel-like cloud descend on the park which caused all the damage. Sparky Lipkin had a simple answer for these skeptics: “These chickens everyone’s been raising for food love to run in circles all the time. I’m bettin’ them super-chickens do the same damn thing when they come and tore my trailer up. Even little Timmy used to do the same damn thing. Well, until he spun in circles for so long that he got dizzy, fell down, puked, and choked on it. But we don’t like to speak bad of the dead. ‘Cept for those damn chickens.”
Though the damage in the park was thorough, Harriet Knickerbocker was still upbeat. “My trailer needed redecoratin’, anyway. Besides, we got to see [Mellencamp] in concert. My life’s dream has been fulfilled. I can die a happy woman.”
Other residents couldn’t share in her glee. “Just think, if we hadn’t been to the concert, we would’ve been killed by them chickens. That’s a little too close for me. I don’t think I’ll be able to listen to John the same way again. I’ve looked in the face of death and it had a beak. Damn.” Then the nameless victim fainted for the seventh time since arriving at this scene of absolute destruction.
Many of the Shitkicker residents insist that the scientific community should perform DNA testing on the feathers to prove their beliefs, but they have yet to receive a positive response.
“Just wait’ll it happens to you people,” said Hunkton. “When them chickens take apart your homes bit by stinkin’ bit, you won’t be laughin’ nearly as hard.”
I bet aleast one of those Shitkicker’s was wearing a dirty wife beater and said “It sounded just like a freight train comin through.”