The Chicken's Fate
Miguel fixed the malfunctioning watches. He sighed as he sat down for the first time in hours. Lyla mimicked rubbing his shoulders.
“You should go home. You hardly do that.” She sat down on Miguel’s shoulder.
“Maybe.”
The chicken squawked from where it was sitting. Miguel stared at it.
“Are you going to keep it? I checked and technically your giant apartment doesn’t have a rule against them.” Lyla pointed at the chicken.
“A pet?”
“There are pretty self-sufficient.”
“Would I get it a litter box?”
“I guess you could probably train it. Maybe?” Lyla stood in front of the chicken. Miguel picked it up.
___
Meanwhile, Peter had shown the spider-teens the photos and videos of the Miguel finding the chicken.
“Dude. He didn’t even care.” Gwen sighed. She would have to up here pranking.
“What do you think he is going to do with it?” Pavitr worried for the chicken. “What if he kills it and eats it for dinner? Or even eats it raw like some weird vampire thing?” He made fangs with his fingers.
“Nah, he definitely is going to throw it out the window to see if it can fly.” Hobie leaned back in his chair.
“Man, he is a genius. He isn’t going to throw the chicken out the window. Right, Peter?” Miles looked to Peter.
“Please. The weirdest thing Miguel would do with that chicken is keep it in the cafeteria for fresh eggs. And that’s a stretch.” Peter looked at the photos again. “He had a kid. He wouldn’t hurt the chicken. Surely. I am about 99.9% sure.”
___
It was not the weirdest thing he could do. Miguel was now in his apartment showing a chicken a litter box.
“How big is a chicken’s brain?” Miguel looked to Lyla while rubbing his palm over his face in frustration.
“Dunno. You didn’t program me to be a zoologist.” He sighed at her answer. He sat down on the couch. He laughed and shook his head as the chicken, that he still hadn’t named, started pecking at the floor.