Faust-Nebel

“Cockadoodledo!!!” The rooster strapped on her back started screaming. Again. A hand on the open beak, closing it abruptly. “Silence, grown up featherball!” A single eye, staring at the bird with glaring dissent. Cold sweat on the rooster's forehead, streaming between the feathers, his powerful voice fading to a terrorized whisper. How he ended up in that situation was still a mystery to him – or it would have been, if roosters pondered on existential questions, instead of hunting worms and courting chickens all day. One minute sooner, he was resting on his perch, waiting for the dawn to break. One minute later, he was duct-taped on the back of a one-eyed bald girl's yellow Vespa. A bald girl standing in front of him, with a huge, menacing mace in her grip. “You aren't supposed to start singing yet! Stay quiet and wait for my signal!” The rooster's eyes widened, he nodded without hesitation. Ordinary farmyard birds were generally thought incapable of understanding human speech,