Aug 28, 2024
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- #project hail mary
#phm#ryland grace#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers
#cats of tumblr
#lana del rey- #heated rivalry
#horror movies
#photography- #iron lung
#phm#ryland grace#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Besides Bender, I think my favorite Futurama character, albeit a minor one, Is the Hyper-Chicken Lawyer. His punny chicken one liners get me every time and I’m a complete sucker for puns. As an added bonus he’s my favorite color, Aquamarine!
i'm sorry, i thought you was corn.
Boid: You underschtand me, don't you Fraulein?
Hyper-chicken: RRRRRWWWWAAAACKKK!!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Boid x Hyper Chicken
IC:vomit / no way / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / flawless / ship forever / i will ship them in hellOOC:vomit / no way / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / flawless / ship forever / i will ship them in hell/ It'd be great until one of them got hungry
The Hyper-Chicken
Boid glanced outside the kitchen doors before retreating inside. He knelt down next to the crate on the floor. The creature trapped inside hissed in warning as it backed away as far as it could. "Juzt you und me againzt zhe baze, Fraulein." He patted the top of the crate with a grin.
Startled from the noise coming from above, the bird launched it at the barred door. Boid flinched away just in time to miss the fang-lined beak snapping through the bars.
"Ooh-ho-ho-ho..." Boid chuckled "You're a vicked little Huhn, aren't you?"
Breakfast
It was a bit of a bummer killing those possum he had been working so hard on mutating this week. But Boid did without much thought. Off with it’s head, legs, tail and fur before being gutted, sliced up and finally laid in the frying pan. And since his majesty, King JT, would demand more the peasant bacon, Boid had thought up what to do for the other half of the meal. The breakfast classic: Eggs. And the small dog crate next to the stove was where he was going to get them. Boid tugged on the edge of his gloves with a smirk. He unlocked the door and shoved his hand inside, quickly invoking ear-spitting screams and shrieks. “Oh, no spitting, Frau.” Boid scowled playful, scooping out a large handful of slightly green colored eggs before shutting the cage again. “But keep zhese eggz coming or you might juzt end up az dinner.” Ignoring the near-demonic growl he got as an answer, Boid quickly went to cracking the eggs into a second frying pan. About half-way threw the small hoard of eggs, his hand started burning, which, considering he was wear half-inch thick rubber glove, was both surprising and alarming. Boid rolled his eyes at the inconvenience and tugged on the fingers of his glove to start pulling them off. And then he saw the problem; part of his glove, dissolved by his creations saliva. He glanced over to the crate with a grimace. He hadn’t spliced the chicken to do anything remotely like spit acid. He yanked off the destroyed glove and his other intact glove and moved the crate from the counter to the floor. He needed figure out what to do with his feathered monster. But that was a venture for after breakfast. He finished cracking and scrambling the eggs and scooped out a bit onto a plate with three slices of his Uber-possum bacon. Boid dashed to the fridge and returned to the plate with a small sprig of parsley. He tucked the tiny leafs just under the farther out piece of bacon and left with the plate for the dormitories. He was going to hand deliver his breakfast creation to his majesty personally, and King JT was going to eat every bite of it, even if Boid had to shove it down his throat by hand.