The 1st Rule of Chicken Fight Club...
"The first rule of Chicken Fight Club is: You do not cluck about Chicken Fight Club!" Scootaloo screamed.
All of the Club was gathered around her, staring at the mini pegasus with beady black eyes inside the dirt pen. Scootaloo stood firm and aggressive in the middle of the group of feathered fowl.
"The second rule of Chicken Fight Club is: You do NOT...cluck about Chicken Fight Club!" she repeated with more intensity as she narrowed her eyes and cast an intimidating glance to everychicken that surrounded her.
"Bagawk!" called a voice from behind her.
Scootaloo snapped her head in his direction and gave him a warning glance.
"Dammit Steve, I know we plan on making brochures! Just let me finish!" she said while glaring at the white-grey fiend who returned her scolding with a dull eyed expression. She slowly lifted her gaze from the interrupter and cleared her throat.
"Ahem...the third rule of Chicken Fight Club is: If someone clucks 'stop', goes limp, or taps out the fight is over," she continued.
"The fourth rule of Chicken Fight Club is: There are only two chickens to a fight."
"Bawk...bawk...bawk..." a white chicken spoke.
Scootaloo gave out a lengthy sigh.
"Ok, fine. We've been over this like...a bazillion times, but I'll give you all an example. Say if any one of you want to fight me, under no circumstances must ANY other chicken be involved, otherwise they will be kicked out of Chicken Fight Club," she explained to the chicken who asked as it pecked the ground.
"The fifth rule of Chicken Fight Club is: One fight at a time. If you feel like you're as awesome as Rainbow Dash and you can take on several fights at once, don't try it or you're out of the club."
"The sixth rule of Chicken Fight Club is: No using eggs. They could get in your opponent's eyes and blind them for a brief period...of...time..." Scootaloo trailed off as she noticed two roosters who seemed to not be paying attention, as they were clucking back and forth.
She ground her teeth in frustration.
"What do you think you're doing? You wanted to join and then ignore the rules?!" she screamed before trotting over to the rooster on the right, pulling her hoof back, and slamming it into his beak.
"BAGAWWWK!" the poor male rooster cried out as he hit the dirt, hard enough to scatter dust. Scootaloo leaned down and grabbed him by his long red comb to lift his head up to her eye level.
"Next time, listen to the rules. Got that?" she said menacingly at a very low volume. The rooster only continued shaking from the violent actions of the filly.
"Ba....gawk?" he asked.
"Yeah, just don't let me catch you two not paying attention again," she replied as she walked back to the middle of the crowd of her club members.
"Now as I was saying, Rule Number Six: No eggs," she finished.
"The seventh rule of Chicken Fight Club is: Fights will go on as long as they have to. That means no time limit, no breaks for the little fillies room, and no crying like a..." she turned her head to the left, then to the right to make sure no adults were around.
"Bitch..." she giggled slightly with her hoof over her mouth at the use of the curse word.
"Finally, the last rule of Chicken Fight Club is: If this is your first day at Chicken Fight Club, you HAVE to fight," she concluded the last rule and pursed her lips as she gave everychicken and intense scowl.
"So remember this, maggots. You're not special. You're not a beautiful or unique snowflake made in the weather factory. You're the same decaying organimic matter as everything else!" she yelled at them to get her point across.
Several miles away, Sweetie Belle's eye twitched as she was eating lunch with her sister in Carousel Botique. She put the other half of her daisy sandwich down on the beautifully designed plate before turning to her sister.
"Rarity?" Sweetie asked her sister, who stopped in the middle of taking a bite of her fresh cucumber salad.
"Yes Sweetie Belle?" she asked her sister in return.
"Is Organimic a word?"
Rarity wasn't expecting such an odd question from the filly, so she gave her a curious look.
"Why no, dear. I don't believe it is. Why on earth do you ask Sweetie Belle?" she asked her sister with a light chuckle.
The little white filly rolled her eyes before picking up her daisy sandwich again.
"Oh...no reason," she concluded before picking up her sandwich and taking a bite from it. While chewing, she narrowed her eyes.
'Scootaloo...' she thought to herself.
"Alright maggots, who's new today?" asked the little filly in a tiny gruff voice. The club members looked to one another with blank expressions, as if they were looking from chicken to chicken to find out who the first competitors would be. After a few seconds, the increasingly disgruntled filly pointed her hoof out to a black and brown rooster.
"You!" she told him. The rooster's expression quickly changed to one of nervousness as the intimidating little filly trotted her way over to him until her eyes were inches from his face.
"I've never seen you here before. What's your name, pal?" she asked while staring the now sweating rooster.
"Bawwwwwk," he drew out nervously, eyes darting back and forth. Scootaloo rolled her eyes.
"Hmph, Chuck eh'? Well Chuck, welcome to Chicken Fight Club," she told him while giving him a sinister grin.
"Allow me to give you the welcome gesture..." she told him before twisting the bottom of her body and connecting her bottom hoof across the rooster's beak. The rooster was lifted off of the ground with the mighty roundhouse kick and time seemed to slow down before he slammed into the dirt of the pen, wings splayed and eyes crossed.
"Now, who wants to fight this poor excuse of a feathered punching bag?!" Scootaloo screamed to her fellow chickens. One of them was eager to fight, eyes narrowed. Said white chicken in the back of the crowd ran to where Scootaloo now was, hoof on top of the rooster like she had conquered foreign land.
"Bawwk bawk, bagawk!" the determined and fierce chicken yelled at the orange filly.
"You wanna fight him Anne?" Scootaloo asked before turning her eyes to the still dazed rooster.
"Anne here is going to teach you what we're all about. Hope you can take her on," she told Chuck with a small chuckle before heaving him back up with her hooves. While still wobbling, the rooster tried to dodge the incoming wing smack, but did not succeed. Anne smacked him in the right side of the face, then the left, then the right, then the left.
Several minutes later...
"GAWKBAGAWKABAWKBAWK!" Chuck screamed as he was being chased across the dirt pit by the large, psychotic chicken that their leader had set loose on him. That same leader was on her back, laughing and giggling like the schoolfilly she was, while the rest of the club that had circled around them clucked loudly in encouragement for the competitors. Finally, Chuck stopped running when he noticed that Anne had presented him with his window of opportunity. The rooster strafed to the right side just as Anne was closing in on him and he held his foot out. Not seeing the roosters sly evasive technique and running to fast to stop, Anne tripped over his foot. Flailing in midair, Anne tried to balance herself with her wings, but found it was too late since she didn't have enough time to curl them all the way out.
With a sound that sounded like a strike in a bowling alley, Anne flew into and knocked down ten club members with one big 'Crash'.
Scootaloo abruptly stopped laughing and ran over to check on Anne. Her co-founder and friend Steve found it hard to contain his clucking and laughter.
"Anne, are you ok?!" Scootaloo screamed as she ran over to check on the long time member, who had her head stuck in the ground and was pushing upward to try and pull it out. Scootaloo wrapped her hooves around her long time friend and pulled with all her might. Finally, after a few failed attempts of struggling, Scootaloo managed to help the chicken pop her head out of the ground.
"That was totally unfair! What kind of cheap trick was-" the little Pegasus was cut off as she turned her head to scold the newcomer, but found he wasn't there anymore. Instead, there was a tiny black dot on the horizon that was barely visible and clucking for his life. Scootaloo ground her teeth in frustration as she got up and ran after him. She stopped just outside of the opening group that the crash had made.
"Get back here you....you..." her eyes darted at the ground as she searched for the right insult to yell.
"Chicken!" she settled on. The little filly watched with glaring eyes as the new club member ran away, clucking for someone to save him.
"Ugghhh!" she grunted and kicked the ground hard enough to cause some dust to scatter.
"This is how we always lose new members," she said in frustration as she made her way back to the center of the dirt pen.
"Bagawk bawk bawka bawk," Steve told her once she came close enough to hear. Everychicken including Scootaloo was aghast at his accusation.
"What do you mean, 'I'm too harsh with new members'?" Scootaloo asked him while giving a glare that was hot enough to put Celestia's sun to shame. Steve narrowed his eyes into an intimidating glare of his own. Every eye of the Chicken Fight Club was on him, waiting for an answer.
"Bawka bawk bawk bawka bagawkbawk!" he accused.
Everychicken once again looked shocked as they shot their glances to Scootaloo, who was still casting an intimidating stare down to her friend and co-founder.
"You know what Steve, that may be true, but at least I don't have girly thighs!" the filly screamed at the whitish grey chicken.
Steve's eyes shot widened in shock.
"BAGAWK BAWKA BAWK!" he returned.
This time, Scootaloo's eyes widened in shock, before narrowing once more.
"What did you say about Rainbow Dash?" she hissed.
"Thank you so, so much for helping me find my chickens Applejack. I was ever so worried where they had gone to," thanked the shy yellow Pegasus walking next to the proud Cowpony as they walked down the path to the South Orchard. They strode at an even pace beside a white picket fence that held in several acres of apple trees.
"It aint no big deal at all, sugarcube. After all, yall help us tendin' the critters and such of the forest and providin' them with food so they don't come an' eat all our apples, so it's mah pleasure, ya hear?" Applejack found herself asking the air this question as she looked over to where Fluttershy had been. The kind animal tender was no longer walking by her.
Applejack turned around to see that Fluttershy had stopped a little ways back, and was looking to the right with her mouth agape in horror. Slowly, Applejack took a few steps over to join Fluttershy and asked,
"What's wrong, sugarcu-"
'POW'
A gliding white and grey chicken collided with Applejack's face, knocking her down to the ground. Fluttershy didn't even notice as she was too transfixed on the dirt pen inside the fence, where all of her chickens had gathered. In the middle was an exhausted, dirty, and mildly bruised Scootaloo. She stood in a circling crowd of clucking and shrieking chickens with her hooves in the air. One of them came down and pointed at the chicken on the floor, who was still unconscious.
"That's what you get Steve!" she screamed before waving her hooves in the air at her club, making them elicit an uproar of clucking.
"Oh...oh my..." Fluttershy said barely above a whisper.
Applejack slowly got up and began to rub her head with her hoof.
"Ugghh...what in tarnation was that?" she asked before her eyes came upon the feathered crowd of chickens.
Both mares turned their head slowly to look at each other before Fluttershy softly spoke,
"I...um...think the orange one might need a time out..."
