On Saturday, I threw on a jacket, stuffed my wallet and keys into my pockets, turned off all the lights, and headed out to my garage as I do so many times every day. I shut the door leading to the house behind me, as I do so many times every day. I reached up and hit the automatic garage door opener, as I do so many times every day. And then…

A loud, strange, and eery sound made its way from the built-in laundry nook that my basement renters use. What the crap was that? It almost sounded like a… 

Before I could finish the thought, a freaking CHICKEN flew out of nowhere, flapping its wings faster than a hummingbird, screaming like Friday’s butcher was after him.

All of this happened before the garage door was up even two feet. I screamed like a little girl, and the chicken quickly found its way out of the garage. Are you freaking kidding me? How did a chicken get in my garage? I live in a suburban neighborhood. Of course, the greater thought that kept going through my mind was, how did a chicken get trapped in my garage without anybody noticing it!?

I looked over at my brand new car (I had just traded my truck in two days before) that I had only driven twice at this point. No… no… no….

There were giant chicken turds ALL over it. I’m talking ‘bird turds from Texas’ kind of big. Oh no you did not, I thought, and I sprinted out of the garage and started chasing the chicken. It took me awhile, but I finally caught up to it, and…

Okay, that last part was a joke. The chicken was long gone the second she made it out the garage door. I only wish I could have caught and eaten that freaking chicken. Crap all over my brand new car… somebody will get you… Somebody will eat you…


Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing

PS. Anybody else have something this bizarre happen before? Anybody else ever have an unexpected visitor get trapped in their garage? Anybody wanna come over and go on a chicken hunt with me? I have dibs on the drumsticks.