Our story begins at a wing restaurant called Bawkers.
The drawer is good, we can finally go home.
Sweet!
I'll go tell Zo- Wait, who the hell is that?
They spot a man trying to open the door.
Come on man, it's locked.
We're obviously closed.
Are you guys open?
No!
Damn it, I'm hungry!
We don't care!
Go away!
Aww.
The man leaves, and after a long day of work, it's finally time to go home and rest.
Hey, drawer's good, we can leave.
Yay!
We're all set to finally get out of this dump.
Yeah, let's get out of this dump.
Yeah, this place is a dump.
The three of them walk through the parking lot, but just before they get in their cars
to leave, something strange happens.
A flash of green fire trailing to the sky, and then...!
What the hell?
Holy shit!
Two of them take a moment to shake off the surprise.
The third approaches the small crater, which is about four feet in circumference and still
emanating smoke.
What do you see?
Before he can get a good look, a baby chicken flutters from the smoldering pit and settles
just in front of him.
Wait, what the hell?
Is that a...
A chicken!
Simeon, fool!
I am no chicken!
The three of them stare in awe, mouths agape.
Did the chicken just speak, they thought?
My name is Commander Sarap.
I have been sent to this planet with a mission.
What is this mission, you might ask?
You guys are hearing this too, right?
Yes.
Yeah.
Ahem!
What is this mission, you might ask?
Oh, uh, what is this mission?
Why, only to save this entire universe?
Duh!
What a stupid question.
But in order to do that, I need the help of you three, the "Chosen Ones."
So what do you say?
Will you join me in this task of absolute paramount importance?
Wait, so let me get this straight.
You're an alien.
Yes, that speaks English.
Obviously.
And you need our help to save the universe.
That is what I said, yes.
Uh, could you give us a minute to talk it over in private?
Very well.
The chick plugs its ears with the tips of its fuzzy yellow wings.
Okay, guys, what are you thinking?
I say we cook it.
Yeah, I'll go back inside and start the fryers up.
What?
Are you gonna fry it?
No, obviously not.
We're not stupid.
We're gonna throw him in batter first.
We still have some batter left over in the cold storage.
Guys, it's a talking chicken.
But it's still a chicken.
Yeah, it's still a chicken, Kai.
What do you want from us?
What if we vote?
Raise your hand if we think we should eat it.
We're not voting.
Raise your hand if you think we should vote.
Stop it!
Use those tiny walnut-sized brains for one second.
It's a talking chicken from outer space.
It talks.
Which means that it's either telling the truth that it's an alien, or I'm hallucinating.
I don't like that you called my brain tiny.
Yeah, that hurts.
Good.
Maybe next time you'll use those heads a bit more.
Think about it.
What if the universe is actually in danger?
We should at least play along with Commander Sarap until we find out what's really going
on.
And if the universe is in danger, what are the three of us going to do about it?
We're dweebs.
True.
I don't think that's true at all.
Do you guys want to keep living plain, boring lives?
This could be our chance to do something meaningful for once.
Ugh, fine.
Let's do it.
I guess I'll starve.
Kai waves to the small bird, signaling that the group has come to a decision.
The chick unplugged its ears.
You said we're the "Chosen Ones."
What does that mean?
How are we going to save the universe?
With music.
Music?
How's that going to help?
I'd love to explain that to you, but sadly, it is far beyond your comprehension.
What if you tried explaining anyway?
Maybe I'd get the gist of it.
No!
If I even explain it a little bit, your brain will melt and pour out of your ears!
Whoa, is that true?
I'll put it this way.
Yes.
Whoa.
I don't want my brain to melt.
Yeah, don't explain it.
Wise choice.
So are we going to become a band?
Not to burst your bubble, Commander, but none of us can play music.
No problem.
Place your hands upon me.
There's a brief moment of hesitation.
Ugh, why?
I'm going to give you the power of music!
Now quit yammering on and touch me.
Where?
Anywhere on my body.
I want to touch the chicken!
The girl places her hand upon the downy surface.
He's so fuzzy.
I want to feel it!
And just like that, a second hand is placed onto the chick.
Whoa.
Isn't it soft?
Yeah.
Come on, Kai, you gotta get in on this.
Yes, get all up in this.
Don't say that, man.
You're making this weird.
Nonsense!
Quit yapping and fondle me like your friends.
The universe depends on it.
Hurry up, Kai, fondle!
Kai does as he's instructed with a grimace and a failure to make eye contact with the
bird's beady black eyes.
A second later, the three of them are engulfed in an incredibly brilliant aura of swirling
gold and emerald light.
Years of musical knowledge are psychically transferred into their minds.
The transfer takes no more than a matter of seconds, but it feels much longer.
Kai, headstrong and stolid, is imbued with the ability to program drum beats, play keys,
and arrange tracks.
Adam, heavy-hearted and playful, gains the skill of playing bass guitar and singing.
Zoe, free-spirited and caring, is also granted singing talent, but it's accompanied by the
ability to play electric guitar.
Once the transfer is over and the lights dissipate, the friends back away from the chicken and
look at each other in awe, feeling the surge of newly gained artistic aptitude.
There, I have given you the ability to perform music.
That is somewhat decent.
Somewhat decent?
That's it?!
That is all we need, trust me.
Now go and get your rest.
We have a long road ahead of us.