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May 1, 2010
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I've been dead for decades, but, people still speak about me. Well, in fact, I'm exaggerating a little bit: they refer to my death and not to me as a (at that time) a living being.
In fact, I know the reason: my life was really not exciting. I was one among others, spending my short life eating and waiting for the meal with my brothers.
And one day, someone made me discover something that I've never heard before: music. I wonder what I would do if I knew during these days that I would die for it.
They told us that one of us would have the infinite honour to attend a concert. My neighbour should have been this one, but he had an avian flu, so I took his place.
I would discover the Doors, John Lennon and another band I've never heard about. You can't imagine how I was looking forward to that. I rarely got out of my place. I think it was even the first time. Actually, it was also the last time.
The guy who took me there hid me till the last minute: unlike him, I had no ticket. I even asked to myself where he found the idea of taking one of us with him in an arena. You know, we were not used to go to this kind of places. But considering what happened to me, you'd say it's not very surprising.
Anyway, the unknown band was due to play between the two other bands I've already mentioned. And it just happened when I was just starting to enjoy the music. The guy who took me there wanted me to meet the band. He kept his promise, but not exactly as I would expect: he took me out of my hiding place and threw me on the stage; where there already had feathers everywhere (they had opened pillows. Why? Don't ask me!). I can tell you that I lost my shirt.
The singer seemed very surprise to see me down to his feet, I can imagine. It had to be the first time for him to see one of us so close. He took me in his arms, I protested, being already shaken just before and bored with that, but I was no match for. He threw me back in the audience, hoping that someone would catch me.
The first row was filled with people in wheelchairs. Have you ever been injured by a wheelchair? It's horrible. The audience pulled me apart before throwing my bloody carcass on the stage. That's how I died.
The next day, it was written in all the papers that Alice Cooper had killed me and drunk my blood. As you might have noticed, it's not actually what happened. Anyway, it's how I became the most famous chicken in the rock'n'roll history.
This the translation of my short story "comment je suis mort" [link]
Translation by Patrick Brzezinski

This text is about an incident which really happened years ago during a concert...
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:iconalice-cooper-rocks:
alice-cooper-rocks Featured By Owner Jan 1, 2011
holy! that's really cool! i never even thought of anything like that. written from the chicken's point of view!? GENIUS!!!! :clap:
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:iconkahlan-lilith:
Kahlan-Lilith Featured By Owner Jan 1, 2011
This story has been told thousands of times and no-one thought about asking the chicken himself (how unfair! :shakefist:). Then I righted the wrong because someone had to do it^^
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:iconalice-cooper-rocks:
alice-cooper-rocks Featured By Owner Jan 1, 2011
it's so unique and yet so simple i'm surprised it hasn't been done before!!!! GENIUS!!! and i agree. that poor chicken! no one thought to ask it if it was ok for it to be thrown first onstage and then off it.
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:iconkahlan-lilith:
Kahlan-Lilith Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2011
Of course it didn't like it, but at least it's a legend now xD
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:iconalice-cooper-rocks:
alice-cooper-rocks Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2011
it certainly is the "most famous chicken in rock and roll history." :D
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:iconkahlan-lilith:
Kahlan-Lilith Featured By Owner Jan 3, 2011
Indeed^^
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