The Creature Calamity Club

.... He corpse is gonna be in soup...

Who is the one with claws that can cut through steel?

*sigh*
How about you two have a little competition who's better at killing chickens when we're done making the soup?

That's it.

*turns into werewolf form, and rips apart chicken with teeth*

*turns back into human form, jumps up on top of counter*

Hello friends. We are gathered here today to honor a good chicken and friend, Gregory. Gregory was with us in good times and bad, saving times and killing times, funny times and boring times, even though we only knew him for a few short minutes.

He has become a lifelong friend to all of us, and through this hard time, we must remember that we will be reunited with him again when we die, some of us sooner than others.

*bursts into tears*

Gregory, may you rest in peace, and have a wonderful time in heaven, or wherever chickens go. We will remember you always. You will be gone, but not forgotten in this world. May you be granted eternal rest in peace forever. Amen.

*runs around the kitchen*

Oh when the saints, go marching in,
Oh when the saints go marching in,
Oh Lord, I want to be in that number,
When the saints go marching in.

Rest in peace, sir Gregory! You will be missed.

Dude...


Only do that for Camilla...

*clap hand over my muth and turn away to hide my laughter*

*two chickens fly in from window*

Dear friends, please proceed to give all of your sympathy gifts, cards and offerings to Mr. and Mrs. Peck at this time.

Chickens can't really fly. Its more of a hover-hop. Alice Cooper made that mistake in concert. People can tear a chicken apart more viciously than a psycho werewolf

*still crying*

Tell that to Mr. and Mrs. Peck, who just flew in. Anything is possible when in grief because of your son's death.

*hugs Mr and Mrs. Peck, still crying*

Mr. and Mrs. Peck are about to become lunch *jumps at them with claws*

*start laughing out loud*

By the way, how did you know the chicken's name as Gregory?

*jumps in front of Sarge*

Please...the family has had enough grieving for one day.

*begins carving tombstone:

Here lies Gregory Peck
An extraodinary chicken, and an extraordinary friend.
1995-2012*

Wow... You just had a funeral for a chicken... But you can't burry him, because we need it for soup.

We are going to bury him in the soup. Then we're going to bury the soup and you in the ground underneath the tombstone. You'll eat the soup, and he'll rest in peace.

*stands back up at counter*

My dear friends, it is now time for the burial procession in the soup.

You are one wimpy werewolf. Crying over a chicken

Don't cry over spilt chicken.

Or split chicken

You would be crying too, Sarge, if he impacted your life as much as he did mine.

Now, I have a poem I wrote in honor of Gregory:

Since the day we became friends,
My life changed.
It tied up all lose ends,
My life got rearranged.

You taught me all about life,
and how wondrous it all is.
You taught me how to be calm,
when death is all there is.

You astounded me when I knew you,
you taught me how lend a hand.
and the thing you taught me most of all,
was how to be a friend.

Let's just prepare the soup before I die of laughter and we have to hold another funeral

My dear friends, it is imperative that we give such a remarkable soul his due in this procession. Please remove your hats, put on black, and sing with us the final song that Gregory will hear on this earth.