I have invented a new game, called “Flappy Chook”. It is a little like that freakishly hard ipad game, Flappy Bird, but is differs a little in both gameplay and graphics.
Firstly, the graphics and sound are realistic. Very realistic. Real, in fact. The chook is a real, live, flapping chook.
Secondly, the gameplay is slightly different – instead of pressing a button to make a bird flap through a little gap, the game begins by you feeding the chooks outside. Then one of the chooks pulls a fast one on you, and makes a beeline for the cat food inside the house, only to be trapped when you walk inside again. Now you have the aforesaid live, flapping, complaining chook inside the house, on vinyl floor where they have no grip. Watching a large hen try to accelerate on vinyl is as funny as that little dance Roadrunner would make when bolting from Mr Wylie E. Coyote. Then comes the flapping, as the chook heads for the kitchen window, destroying all and sundry on the bench in its flappy panic. You then have to time your lunge, grab the chook and hold those wings in before another crystal vase is obliterated or the clean dishes fertilised by chook poo. Then chuck the chook outside, where it loudly complains to whichever union hens belong to.
I have played that game a couple of times in the last few days. It is highly frustrating, but the girls adore the cat crunchies too much.
Yesterday I leveled up – this is where two chooks are involved, both hell-bent on destroying different parts of the house during the round up. Oh yes – and to make it less sane, and more difficult, add three laughing bouncing children into the mix to terrify those stupid aves and scatter them in different directions, always away from the door. This is game I could soon tire of.
It is almost winter. A nice hearty chicken broth could do wonders for my morale.