Bob the rooster seemed like he lived an ordinary chicken life. The farmer visited the chicken coop every day to get eggs, and his children played ball games with every chicken in the coop. He acted like a normal, boring rooster.

But really, he was one of those very rare intelligent chickens who could talk, invent stuff, and solve codes!

One day as the farmer was gathering eggs, Bob received a call from his secret agency. He dashed into the hen house and pressed a button that was cleverly disguised as a dark knot in the wood. A hole opened in the floor and he fell into the secret chicken agency department.

His boss, a stern rooster named Claw, wanted to meet him immediately.

“We need you to break into Meowser’s jungle base,” he said.

”Consider it done,” said Bob.

”You didn’t let me finish,” said Claw. ”We also need you to steal 11111111 gigabytes of important knowledge from him.”

“Give me the easy job,” groaned Bob. Breaking and entering was easy, but stealing 11111111 gigabytes of knowledge? Impossible!

”You can have a car equipped with…multiple useful features,” said Claw. As Bob walked into the garage, he noticed a car with wings, a car that looked like a plane with tank treads, and a car with about 111 guns. He jumped into a car with a Swiss army knife assortment of tools, turned on the radar and GPS, and drove away.

He reached the jungle in no time and turned on the four-wheel drive. As he trundled through a misty swamp, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He stopped driving. Instantly, a massive tiger jumped out of the fog straight at the car. Bob pressed a button, and the tiger was blasted into oblivion by a massive plasma cannon. Just then, the GPS beeped. He had arrived at his destination.

He looked around. The base was nowhere in sight. He grabbed his gadget bag and a gun and hopped out of the car onto the damp carpet of rotting leaves. His foot hit something that was decidedly metal. Bob bent down and grinned. It was a trap door. He dusted some revealing powder on the door and smiled when it turned neon green. No traps. He opened the door and hopped in.

The entrance corridor was booby trapped. 20 years in the agency helped him recognize the lasers in the walls, the spikes in the walls, and the cannon in the ceiling. He donned his jet pack and passed the traps without activating them. He landed and put the jetpack in his bag while he walked past heavy iron doors. Somehow, he reached the darkened computer room unnoticed, alive and alert.

Bob walked to the main computer and started to hack into the database. Suddenly the screen flashed red and said: “Intruder alert! Intruder alert!” A dozen armed tabby cats rushed into the room and attacked Bob. In a split second, Bob had drawn some nunchaku and crouched in a defensive position.

The first few cats reached Bob and were instantly battered back by the whirling nunchaku. The rest of the cats formed a circle around Bob, pistols, swords and spears raised. Bob took a dagger from his bag just as the most aggressive (or the dumbest) of the guards charged him. In the blink of an eye, Bob stabbed the guard while cracking his nunchaku between the eyes of another guard who had been edging closer to him. Both of them fell, one mortally wounded and the one unconscious.

The remaining ten cats gave a cry of fury and charged as one at Bob. An ordinary chicken would not have stood a chance. But Bob was not an ordinary chicken. He had a dagger and some nunchaku. The first three guards fell to the whirling nunchaku and the fourth was stabbed by the dagger.

Just then, Bob felt an agonizing pain in his right wing. He glanced down. A spear was embedded deep in his wing. Bob pulled out the spear with a great deal of pain and impaled another guard in the throat with it. Seven guards down, he thought. Only five more to go.

Then things got a little confusing (for the cats, at least). Bob tossed a small device on the floor near his feet and was enveloped in a cloud of black smoke. In the time it took for the smoke to clear, Bob had used a grappling hook to clamber onto the ceiling. The guards looked around, wondering where he had gone.

”He ran out into the corridor,” said one of the guards.”

“No, he’s hiding somewhere in here,” said a different guard.”

“No, he blew himself up,” said a third guard.

The guards argued for a bit, then ran out into the hallway. Bob dropped down to the floor and attached a small device to the main computer. The data sucker loaded all of the data onto its own computer while it drained Meowser’s computer of the 11111111 gigabytes of knowledge.

As the data sucker leeched the information out of the computer, Bob strapped on his jet pack. Another alarm went off as the data sucker finished its job. Bob grabbed the device and took off, wincing at the sudden pain flaring from his injured wing. Zooming through the hallways, Bob made his way back to his car. He reached the entrance hatch and was aghast to see that his car was now a smoking maze of white hot metal. And he was even more dismayed to see the five guards from the computer room waiting for him.

“We thought you might come back to your car,” said the largest of the guards. The other guards drew their weapons.

Bob was taking out some daggers when the tabby cats attacked him. The first guard slashed at Bob’s head with his sword, but Bob ducked and stabbed him with a dagger. The guard crumpled to the ground while Bob activated his jet pack. One of the guards threw a spear at him, but Bob was already out of reach. He listened to the guards groaning growing fainter and fainter as he flew back to his agency’s base.

Claw was the  first to meet him there. “Did you get the data?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Bob. He handed the data sucker to Claw and went back to his chicken coop.”I am never going to go on another mission again,” he mumbled to himself.

Just then, the agency called him again. Bob groaned and pressed the button.

THE END