shortly after spending hours fixing the gallery uploading feature, and my uploading my beautiful chicken painting, my tired mind led me to make mistakes. those mistakes meant the heli blew out the front half of my home - and the painting.
death appeared, playing a fittingly mournful bagpipe song over voice chat. i knew what had to be done. he began spawning the chickens, and they marched solemnly in unison towards the forest, like that penguin in the march of the penguins who wandered off to die, except there was 50 of them.