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The Planet of the Chickens is here! In the future, humanity has devolved into rat-sized pests who stir up trouble in a civilization of super-sized poultry. Killer roosters hunt the pests without mercy, but one such hired gun--champion cockfighter Shad Lugo--can't close the deal. This bad mother-clucker runs afoul of the wiliest pack of little people ever, turning routine pest control into a gut-wrenching grudge match. Feathers and bullets fly as the death-dealing rooster wages a one-cock war on the vicious little pests...and plunges beak-first into a nightmare that's even crazier and more shocking than the clucked-up world he inhabits. Don't miss this story by award-winning Doctor Who and Star Trek writer Robert Jeschonek, a master of unique and unexpected science fiction that really packs a punch.
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Also by Robert Jeschonek
Cock-A-Doodle Die
About the Author
Special Preview: Six Scifi Stories Volume Four
COCK-A-DOODLE DIE
Copyright © 2023 by Robert Jeschonek
http://bobscribe.com/
Cover Art Copyright © 2023 by Ben Baldwin
www.benbaldwin.co.uk
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published by Blastoff Books
An Imprint of Pie Press
411 Chancellor Street
Johnstown, Pennsylvania 15904
www.piepresspublishing.com
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100th Power Book 1
100th Power Book 2
100th Power Book 3
Blastoff!
Cosmic Conflicts
Gray Lady Rising (with Annie Reed)
In a Green Dress, Surrounded by Exploding Clowns and Other Stories
In the Empire of Underpants and Other Stories
Battlenaut Crucible
Scifi Motherlode
Sticks and Stones: A Trek Novel
Shad Lum Lugo the meemee exterminator strutted across the paved lot, feeling the bright morning sun as it heated his feathers. He was glad to be alive, and he crowed about it again, though he'd already crowed at dawn as he did every day. Life, oh life was so good.
Then, suddenly, two meemees ran out of the brush in front of him, and he reared back, scrambling to aim his pistol at them.
The meemees were barely two feet tall, covered in fur (one black, one blond), and bipedal. It was the only thing they seemed to have in common with Shad's people, the Ch'Kaw--getting around on two legs.
Otherwise, the meemees didn't measure up. The Ch'Kaw were ten feet tall, immeasurably smarter, covered with beautiful plumage, and the dominant species of planet Earth.
So why were the damned meemees so hard to kill?
They were fast on their feet, for one thing. Even as Shad swung his pistol around, they scurried further away, heading for the back of The Coop restaurant. A few more steps, and the pistol would be useless; Shad couldn't open fire if there was a chance of hitting a worker inside the place.
So he took a chance and threw two shots at the fleeing meemees. Neither bullet hit its mark.
Then the meemees reached the restaurant and flung themselves into a tiny hole at the base of the wall. Shad had never noticed it before--but of course the damned meemees went straight for it.
Crowing with rage, Shad threw open the back door and charged into the building. From experience, he knew where the meemees would go, so he made a beeline for the kitchen.
Sure enough, they were up on a counter, heads submerged in a bowl of corn flour. As soon as he rushed in, they both looked up, furry faces dusted with pale yellow flour--then sprinted away, grabbing handfuls of corn biscuit crumbs from a tray en route.
"Vermin!" Shad didn't dare shoot up the kitchen, so he grabbed a metal skillet with one claw and heaved it at the meemees.
The creatures dove off the counter and landed on their feet on the blue-tiled floor. The skillet clanged off the counter and bounced down after them, but they were already racing away by then.
"I'll peck you to shreds!" howled Shad as he chased them. His razor-sharp beak could do some serious damage.
"Mee mee mee mee mee!" That was the sound the meemees made as they scrambled away from him and headed for the kitchen door. "Mee mee mee mee mee!" It was the cry that had given them their name once upon a time.
Shad knew they were heading for their bolt hole. He had to cut them off, or he might not get another chance at stopping their escape.
It was time for a bold move. Taking two big steps, he pushed off in a flying leap, aiming the claws of his feet at the fleeing pests. He might just take them both at once, if...
But no. The meemees darted through the kitchen doorway before he could nail them. Shad came down on his heels and slid, dropping hard on his ass.
A shock of pain jolted his spine, and he shrieked. As he slumped against the wall, he heard the meemees' hairy little feet pattering down the hall toward their escape hole.
And that made him shriek even louder.
* * *
"What next?" The white-feathered female was furious, clacking her beak against Shad's. "Are you going to carry the meemees in and feed them by claw?"
Shad shook his head with quick flicks, careful not to leave an opening for her sharp beak. Just because they were standing in the restaurant's dining room in view of several customers didn't mean she wouldn't jab his eye out. "Of course not, Lady Nixa."
"You might as well!" snapped Nixa. "You already let them come and go as they please!"
At her sharp, shrill tone, all the customers looked up at once, heads flicking and bobbing with interest. Then, they all returned to pecking away at the plates of fried worms and cornmeal biscuits on the tables in front of them.
"I can do the job!" Shad reared up with indignation, but he had to be careful. Lady Nixa owned the restaurant and was paying his fee--a fee he couldn't afford to lose.
"So you keep saying." Nixa lunged at him, then jerked away at the last second. The low red comb on top of her head quivered with rage. "But if I don't see results soon, you're fired, you washed-up loser."
"I'll get those meemees, don't you worry!" Shad crowed for emphasis.
"Big talk, cock," said Nixa. "Now walk the walk." She clucked with disgust. "If you can."
* * *
As Shad checked the cage traps in the parking lot, he got more and more angry. Not only had he not caught a single meemee, but every last bit of bait he'd planted had been spirited away.
The little bastards were tricky as hell and hard to kill. Not that Shad had gone after many of them before now. Actually, this was his first job as an exterminator, though he'd never tell Nixa that.
He'd thought it would be much easier. He'd only ever killed another Ch'Kaw before, in the cockfighting ring, and that hadn't been so hard...for a while, anyway.
But the meemees, it turned out, were much more of a challenge. He'd already been after them for three days, and the closest he'd come to contact was the chase he'd just had through the kitchen.
"Well, hello there." A strange voice interrupted his reverie. "Coming up empty, huh?"
Turning, Shad saw an elderly male limping toward him with a cane, bobbing his head. Immediately, Shad put down the latest trap and straightened. "What's it to you?"
"These traps won't work." The male swung his cane out and rapped it on the trap at Shad's feet. "Not for damned meemees. You're pecking at the wrong feed, friend."
"What do you suggest, Grampa?" Shad twitched his head, giving his comb and wattles a sarcastic shake.
"Name's Varn, not Grampa." Varn twitched his own head, but his shriveled comb and wattles didn't shake much. "And shame on you, if you think I'm dumb enough to tell you my meemee-killing tactics without a piece of the action."
Shad crowed with laughter and strutted away. "Get lost, old rooster." His high, purple tail feathers flickered as he walked. "You won't get any money out of me."
"Too bad." Varn made a rumbling noise deep in his throat--a Ch'Kaw sigh. "I was going to pay you to let me help."
Shad stopped strutting and whirled. "But you said you wanted a piece of the action."
"Exactly." Varn cluck-chuckled and flapped his arms. "The action, friend. The killing. I'm retired and bored."