There were wolves and unicorns, and lightning was flashing, and there was a whooshing sound like a storm in the forest, and there were chickens everywhere. It was the asquawkalypse that Stranger Chicken kept going on about, only it was really happening. There were punk rock chickens, there was the pottery kiln, there were the two stupid People, and, of course, there were all the Numi.

            A lot of things happened that summer. One minute, I was living my peaceful backyard chicken life, and the next, I was some kind of inter-dimensional space chicken or something. I know that sounds unlikely, but a lot of unlikely things happen in life. I've learned that life is less about what happens to you and more about what you intend to do about it. Life is all about choices, like which direction to run when you're being chased or which direction to run when you're chasing something else. Butterflies can be crafty little flutterers.

            I'm Fools Goldie Chicken, and this is the story of the asquawkalyptic summer I met a post-punk poultry goth rock band and had an adventure I really could have done without.