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Hi... Another short story... Sort of a thank-you to Prawny/Ryan, whoever that guy is. Enjoy.
The little blue weirdo's dressing room wasn't so little the white-feathered fowl thought to herself... Spacious enough for her and Gonzo to share a meal or two on the odd chance they stayed in for the night—and with Gonzo the chances of something odd were 100%. Momentos of past productions littered the desk as Camilla, the hen that she was, did some tidying up. Clucks of laughter came upon unearthing those old rhinestone bunny ears she wore at a performance in Las Vegas, amusement shone in her eyes glancing at the time-worn bugle and the half-eaten rubber tire, innocence and almost reverence at the baby blanket Gonzo was found in that night on the beaches of Cape Doom by Nancy Takashi. Of course there were framed photos hanging on the walls and some in picture frames... These occupied her mind as she unintentionally knocked over a bottle of pills from the wiped-down surface. Upon inspecting the contents, she was secure in the knowledge that nothing had fallen... Or so she thought before aspying one lone white medicinal oval cylinder lying on the floor. Not wanting her daredevil beau to be cross with her, she did what most guilty consciences do—try to hide it from view—and she did so by downing it past her quickly opening and closing beak. Feeling drowsy after her chore, Camilla decided to sleep it off nestling next to her black purse on the couch waiting for Gonzo to arrive. During her dormant phase, the effects of the artificial aspirin began to change Camilla as she grew to almost the size of a gargantuan girl chicken. Her feet and beak deepened in color to a sort of softened metallic melocoton tone, her crest and waddle attaining a garnet hue. Stretching out the wingflaps felt good, unusually good, as her eyes blinked open with a sort of newed allure. She thought to herself that Susan Sarandon had it right in that old movie—she felt truly awakened and ready to show it—that weirdo would definitely be in for a surprise once he reached his dressing room door.
The little blue weirdo's dressing room wasn't so little the white-feathered fowl thought to herself... Spacious enough for her and Gonzo to share a meal or two on the odd chance they stayed in for the night—and with Gonzo the chances of something odd were 100%. Momentos of past productions littered the desk as Camilla, the hen that she was, did some tidying up. Clucks of laughter came upon unearthing those old rhinestone bunny ears she wore at a performance in Las Vegas, amusement shone in her eyes glancing at the time-worn bugle and the half-eaten rubber tire, innocence and almost reverence at the baby blanket Gonzo was found in that night on the beaches of Cape Doom by Nancy Takashi. Of course there were framed photos hanging on the walls and some in picture frames... These occupied her mind as she unintentionally knocked over a bottle of pills from the wiped-down surface. Upon inspecting the contents, she was secure in the knowledge that nothing had fallen... Or so she thought before aspying one lone white medicinal oval cylinder lying on the floor. Not wanting her daredevil beau to be cross with her, she did what most guilty consciences do—try to hide it from view—and she did so by downing it past her quickly opening and closing beak. Feeling drowsy after her chore, Camilla decided to sleep it off nestling next to her black purse on the couch waiting for Gonzo to arrive. During her dormant phase, the effects of the artificial aspirin began to change Camilla as she grew to almost the size of a gargantuan girl chicken. Her feet and beak deepened in color to a sort of softened metallic melocoton tone, her crest and waddle attaining a garnet hue. Stretching out the wingflaps felt good, unusually good, as her eyes blinked open with a sort of newed allure. She thought to herself that Susan Sarandon had it right in that old movie—she felt truly awakened and ready to show it—that weirdo would definitely be in for a surprise once he reached his dressing room door.