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Exotic Harvest

Farmer Freude was worried. He had seen some crazy stuff in his life, especially after he had an internet connection forced on him by his nephew, but this beat the lot. He considered calling the cops, but didn't think this to be quite within the realm of justice. The vet maybe, or perhaps the goddamn pastor.

  He stood, leaning his old muscular frame against the door of the chicken coop, in deep thought. His thoughts often drifted to the cat pictures on his computer, but they were mostly focused on the spectacle he was beholding for the second day in a row. He had initially thought it to be a random freak of nature, though how it randomly happen to all 12 of his hens was beyond him.

"Millie," he shouted as he entered his villa, "There's something with these chicks."
"Oh there you again," screeched his wife, brandishing a saucepan in his face as he approached the kitchen, "You can't lay your eyes off the chicks for a day can you? For shame Freude, I thought I had married an honorable man."

Freude stood at the entry to the kitchen, mouth agape, completely flabbergasted.
Then it struck him.
"Not those kind of chicks, you stupid blonde," he said indignantly, "CHICKENS! Goddamn clucking, shitting, egg-laying chickens. " "Oh," said Millie and went back to washing her weapon of choice. "Well, what about them?" "You'd better come back and see this for yourself," he said, with an abrupt return to his usual growl.

Millie protested the interruption of so noble a job, but followed Freude anyways. Millie opened the chicken coop and peeked inside at the 12 hens who looked at her equally inquisitively. Freude shooed them all out and pointed at their eggs. Millie could see the problem all right.

The eggs were tinged green, had purple spots on them and, most importantly, were cubical. "Sweet Jesus," muttered Millie, "Whaddya reckon we should do?"

"Well I ain't gonna spend a penny on a vet for the sake of some chicks," said Freude. "Maybe we should try breaking open a couple. See how they taste in an omelet," suggested Millie. Freude shook his head impatiently, "I tried breaking open one yesterday. They're hard as rocks. Almost broke my hammer but couldn't even scratch them."

Millie cast another glance at the 36 eggs in front of her and sighed. "Well, I guess there's only one thing left to do then."
"Let ‘em hatch," said Millie. For a few seconds, Freude was overcome by the simple brilliancy of her plan.
He leapt forward and kissed her. "That's genius, Millie!" "Well.. I do try," said Millie with a blush. And they walked back to their home, hands clasped in each others'.

Freude raised the issue as they sat facing each other at breakfast. "Them eggs still haven't hatched, Millie." "Oh patience, Freude, patience," said Millie reproachfully, "It's only been a month."


Freude and Millie rushed outside, he still clutching a half-eaten waffle in his hand. The door to the coop had been thrown open. The hens ran about in disarray, clucking their protest at having been thrown out of their home. Freude and Millie peeked inside, eyes wide. Freude jumped back, squashing Millie's toes in the process. Her curses added to the cacophony, rousing the creatures in the coop.

The creatures were about a foot tall and vaguely humanoid in shape. They were jet black except their large, milky-white eyes. They crawled on their feet towards the trembling couple, opening their triangular beaks wide, revealing rows of concentrically arranged pincer like teeth. They made soft hooting noise as they approached. Freude threw his waffle towards them and watched as they fought each with their tiny wings for a bite.

"M..Millie," he whispered, "What should we do?"
"I think now'd be a good time to call the cops," whispered Mille, her voice quivering.
"You will do no such thing," said a melodious voice from behind them, causing them to jump in fright.
They looked around to see a beautiful maiden walking through the cornfields towards them.

Freude leapt forward. He gazed at the figure for a while, as she drew closer, his eyes lit with faint recognition. "Artemis…" he said in a sudden departure from his gruff manner.
"Freude?" shouted Millie indignantly. "Millie….er… I can explain everything," he said, a nervous wreck, casting surreptitious glances at Artemis.

"Do not worry human. I am here, simply to take our children," she said, pointing with the sleeve of her brilliantly white robe towards the chicken coop, casting a sly glance towards Freude who was as pale as her robes now.
The couple stood, stunned as the woman, if she was a woman, walked towards the coop and shrugged off her sleeves to reveal a pair of glowing, white wings. She looked at the crawling creatures lovingly, scooped them up in her wings and, walked away through the fields.

"Who in blazes was she?" asked Millie, her body trembling with fury, her voice deceptively calm.
"Well now don't be mad, sweetheart," said Freude, cowering before her rage, "I met her on this dating site for farmers," he mumbled. "You had gone out for Bingo and I was feeling lonely, dear. It was a one-time thing only, I swear."

"FREUDE HIEMLICH SCHILLER," bellowed Millie, "You cheating scumbag; you lying piece of excrement; you son of a.. Wait a second," she paused, glaring at Freude who refused to meet her eyes. "Was she the only one Freude?" "Answer me," she added when he didn't.

"Oh yes, darling, absolutely," he replied abruptly nodding his head. "Then why the flipping fishes is the cow giving purple milk?"