“Cock-a-doodle-doo! Cock-a-doodle-doo!” The loud crowing of the rooster shredded the silence like paper. The sun was peeking over the tall oak trees, lighting the sky with a mix of pink, orange, and red. The field was covered with tall grass, the occasional tree. A chicken coop stood in the middle. Three roosters roamed the field, bounded by a sharp fence.
“Cock-a-doodle! Cock-a-doodle-SQUEAK!” crowed the skinny rooster, Bruce. His crow was not like the other rooster’s crow. It sounded as if it was his first time crowing, and it sounded more like a scream of pain than a crow.
“Ha ha ha!” jeered the fat brown rooster, Bob.
“That sounded horrible!” taunted Bill, the fat white and black speckled rooster.
Bruce responded to the jeers and taunts with contempt, holding his head high. Suddenly, Bruce heard footsteps coming towards them, and knew it must be their human owner coming to give the chickens breakfast. Bruce waddled over to the owner as fast as he could, with Bob and Bill following.
The owner set their food down, petted each of the chickens, and strolled away. The three roosters fought ferociously over the scraps, nudging and bickering. Bruce, being the smallest and skinniest of the three, was knocked down by Bob and Bill, who ate most of the scraps, only leaving a few when they were done. Bruce got up and ravenously ate what remained.
“Ha ha ha, you’re such a weakling,” said Bob.
“You didn’t even get to eat the good scraps because you got bodied!” said Bill.
Bob and Bill continued to make fun of Bruce. Bruce looked intently at the sky, paying no heed to the taunts.
“RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! A HAWK IS COMING!! RUNNN!!!!” Bruce said suddenly. Bruce waddled over to hide in the chicken coop.
Bob snorted and said “You’re a scaredy cat. I’m as ferocious and vicious as a lion!”
Bill said, “I will fight the hawk with my own beak and claws. Prepare to die, hawk!”
In the twinkling of an eye, the hawk swooped down with amazing speed and landed near Bill and Bob. Bill and Bob, who had been very confident, were shivering and cowering with tremendous fear.
“P-p-p-lease d-d-don’t e-e-at m-m-me, h-h-h-e’s t-t-the f-f-atter a-a-and j-j-juicer o-o-ne,” chattered Bob, pointing to Bill.
“I-i-i’m j-j-just s-s-kin a-a-nd b-bones, h-h-e’s t-t-he f-f-atter o-o-ne,” Bill said, pointing to Bob.
“Well, I’ll just eat both of you, you cowardly, chicken-hearted roosters,” said the hawk. The hawk grabbed Bob and Bill in each of his claws and flew off.
“HHHEEELLLLPPP!” yelled Bob.
“SSAVVEE MMEE!” pleaded Bill.
Bruce heard their calls for help, and quickly ran out to the field.
“Cock-a-doodle-SQUEAK!! Cock-a-doodle!” Bruce crowed as loud as he could.
The hawk, who was shocked by the horrible-sounding call, quickly dropped the chickens and flew off, thinking the noises were coming from a human or a beast.
Bob and Bill, falling from the sky, quickly flapped their wings to slow their descent.
“You saved us!” Bob exclaimed.
“I’m still alive! Thank you, Bruce!” Bill said.
Bruce had won their respect, not with strength, but with the power of his mind.
“Cock-a-doodle! Cock-a-doodle-SQUEAK!” crowed the skinny rooster, Bruce. His crow was not like the other rooster’s crow. It sounded as if it was his first time crowing, and it sounded more like a scream of pain than a crow.
“Ha ha ha!” jeered the fat brown rooster, Bob.
“That sounded horrible!” taunted Bill, the fat white and black speckled rooster.
Bruce responded to the jeers and taunts with contempt, holding his head high. Suddenly, Bruce heard footsteps coming towards them, and knew it must be their human owner coming to give the chickens breakfast. Bruce waddled over to the owner as fast as he could, with Bob and Bill following.
The owner set their food down, petted each of the chickens, and strolled away. The three roosters fought ferociously over the scraps, nudging and bickering. Bruce, being the smallest and skinniest of the three, was knocked down by Bob and Bill, who ate most of the scraps, only leaving a few when they were done. Bruce got up and ravenously ate what remained.
“Ha ha ha, you’re such a weakling,” said Bob.
“You didn’t even get to eat the good scraps because you got bodied!” said Bill.
Bob and Bill continued to make fun of Bruce. Bruce looked intently at the sky, paying no heed to the taunts.
“RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! A HAWK IS COMING!! RUNNN!!!!” Bruce said suddenly. Bruce waddled over to hide in the chicken coop.
Bob snorted and said “You’re a scaredy cat. I’m as ferocious and vicious as a lion!”
Bill said, “I will fight the hawk with my own beak and claws. Prepare to die, hawk!”
In the twinkling of an eye, the hawk swooped down with amazing speed and landed near Bill and Bob. Bill and Bob, who had been very confident, were shivering and cowering with tremendous fear.
“P-p-p-lease d-d-don’t e-e-at m-m-me, h-h-h-e’s t-t-the f-f-atter a-a-and j-j-juicer o-o-ne,” chattered Bob, pointing to Bill.
“I-i-i’m j-j-just s-s-kin a-a-nd b-bones, h-h-e’s t-t-he f-f-atter o-o-ne,” Bill said, pointing to Bob.
“Well, I’ll just eat both of you, you cowardly, chicken-hearted roosters,” said the hawk. The hawk grabbed Bob and Bill in each of his claws and flew off.
“HHHEEELLLLPPP!” yelled Bob.
“SSAVVEE MMEE!” pleaded Bill.
Bruce heard their calls for help, and quickly ran out to the field.
“Cock-a-doodle-SQUEAK!! Cock-a-doodle!” Bruce crowed as loud as he could.
The hawk, who was shocked by the horrible-sounding call, quickly dropped the chickens and flew off, thinking the noises were coming from a human or a beast.
Bob and Bill, falling from the sky, quickly flapped their wings to slow their descent.
“You saved us!” Bob exclaimed.
“I’m still alive! Thank you, Bruce!” Bill said.
Bruce had won their respect, not with strength, but with the power of his mind.
