Think you'll be having chicken for dinner this Christmas? Think again.
I remember the day of the invasion well. The memories still burn deeply, like spicy chicken wings.
They came without warning, squawking menacingly, their ruffled feathers darkening the sun. Invading intergalactic chickens, out to punish humanity for our oppression of their earthly brethren.
I instantly knew what had to be done. I dropped my half-eaten chicken burger and jumped in my cockpit. With a greasy finger I set my lasers to "extra crispy" and blasted off to intercept the fowl invaders.
It wasn't easy. Squawks, feathers flying, the smell of charred chicken everywhere. Three times they invaded, each time with increasingly devious plans. Three times I managed to push them back whence they came, and secure humanity a few more years as the dominant species of this planet.
After their last retreat, I headed for my local Space Burger to bask in the glow of my recent victory. Breathing a sigh of relief, I sat down to enjoy a double chicken-burger with crispy chicken wings on the side.
Little did I know that my greatest adventure was yet to come...