Chicken Little likes to walk in Central Park, looking at the girls, smelling the money and listening to the sounds of construction. One day while out walking, an acorn falls from the top of a tall tree and hits the top of Chicken Little’s head.
“My, oh my,” says Chicken Little, a somewhat excitable chicken, “The sky is falling, the sky is falling, immigrants are overrunning the border, Muslim terrorists are terrorizing our children, crime is out of control, the economy is in the basement, taxes are through the roof, veterans are left on the street to die, and … well, there’s a huge, a terrific, an enormous, an unbelievable, a gargantuan amount of bad out there. I must run and tell the country about this.”
So Chicken Little runs and runs. She runs right past 16 of her friends, stepping on their toes, hoofs, claws and paws. She runs through primaries in various states of confusion and disdain. She runs through news cycles, stopping to Tweet and phone her way to the country, “The sky is falling, the sky is falling and things are hugely, horribly bad.”
By and by, Chicken Little meets her friend, Henny Pence. “Where are you going?” asks Henny Pence. “Oh, Henny Pence,” Chicken Little replies, “the sky is falling and the situation is hugely horrible and I’m going to the country to tell them about it.”
“How do you know the sky is falling?” asks Henny Pence.
“It hit me on the head, and since the sky is falling, everything else must be hugely, horribly bad, too,” says Chicken Little.
Now Henny Pence thinks Chicken Little is very brave and tells her so.
“Well,” says Chicken Little, “I guess I am, a little.”
“Let me run with you,” says Henny Pence, and so the two of them run and run.
By and by they meet Bridgey Christie. “Where are you both going?” asks Bridgey Christie.
“The sky is falling,” says Henny Pence.
“How do you know that?” Bridgey Christie asks.
“Because it hit Chicken Little on the head, and the situation is hugely horrible,” says Henny Pence, “and Chicken Little is very, very brave to tell us.”
“Oh my,” says Bridgey Christie, “all these horrible things on a perfectly sunny day (but I do see a few clouds up there). May I come with you?”
“Please do,” says Henny Pence.
Bridgey Christie thinks Chicken Little is very brave, too, and tells her so.
“Well,” says Chicken Little, “Of course I’m very brave — everyone says so.” All three of them run on to warn the country.
Soon they meet Newty Newt. “The sky is falling, the sky is falling, and the situation is hugely horrible,” says Bridgey Christie.
“How do you know that?” Newty Newt asks.
“Because Chicken Little and Henny Pence say so,” replies Bridgey Christie, “and Chicken Little is extraordinarily brave to warn us.”
“Well, then, it must be true,” answers Newty Newt, “if all three of you say it is so, even though it is a sunny day (but I do see some black-looking clouds up there).”
Newty Newt also thinks Chicken Little is very brave and wonderful and tells her so.
“Well, of course I am,” says Chicken Little, ‘”In fact, I am so brave and wonderful, I am the only one I know who can save the country from the falling sky. Look at that whole expanse of black clouds completely blocking the sun. Proof the sky is falling.”
And so on they run, collecting countrymen as they go along until finally everyone is assembled in a huge (the hugest ever) tent, and Chicken Little warns and warns about all the immigrants and the Muslim terrorists and the out-of-control crime and the terrible economy and the monstrous taxes and the veterans and the, well, the everything that is so wrong.
And Chicken Little gets her name up there in huge gold letters, “CHICKEN LITTLE,” and everyone agrees it is black as night and that the sky must be falling, and the only thing to do is trust Chicken Little to save us all and expel all the Muslims and the immigrants and reduce the taxes and fight all the crime that is causing the sky to fall.
And as the sky actually does start to fall, and the lights go out, the only light left is that from the huge golden letters, CHICKEN LITTLE, and everyone can only see because of these big golden letters, CHICKEN LITTLE, and the everyone who is not too frightened to move clusters around the golden letters CHICKEN LITTLE. Then does Chicken Little strut her stuff.
And so, boys and girls, here begins the story of Chicken Little.
Richard Tillberg is a resident of Whately.