Gohan lay bedridden, the very life ebbing out of him, "will he be alright?" asked Piccolo.

"There is nothing I can do," the doctor replied, "there is only one way to save him. You must go to the temple of the Rainbow Chicken and receive the mystical Canned Bread. Give it to him, and he may live," the doctor said as he walked out the door.

Piccolo looked at Gohan, "don't worry, I'll find the Canned Bread. I won't let you die on me."

"Thank you, and good luck," Gohan coughed.

Piccolo nodded his head before walking out the door. He looked around before flying off. I have no idea where this Rainbow Chicken is, and who knows if he even exists…

He flew around the world, but could not find any trace of the temple. His energy grew lower and lower, and his flying became jagged and haphazard. After days of searching, he landed, too tired to go on. He dragged himself towards a cave. Low light emerged from its mouth.

Piccolo managed to stand, and staggered inside, "have I found the temple?"

He was answered by a screech, then shrill, piercing laughter. An eagle stepped into the candle light, its wings folding against its sides. Its golden feathers shone with the intensity of the sun, its eyes glowed a bright orange, and its talons clicked on the hard stone floor.

"You are looking…for the rainbow chicken?" it chuckled.

"Yes," Piccolo said, bowing his head slightly.

"Well," it rasped, "you are in the wrong place. I am the Golden Eagle, second bird god. Can I help you in any way?"

"Yes you could. Do you have the mystical canned bread?"

"No, only the Rainbow Chicken has the power to contain it. However," it paused, "I can help you find it. That is, if you need it…"

"Oh, most certainly sir, how can you help me?"

They walked over to a wooden table, an eagle etched into its surface. There was a mug on it, "could I interest you in some cheese coffee?"

"I'm a Namekian; we only drink water. Also, gross!"

"It will help you on your journey. Once you drink it, you will automatically walk towards the temple of the Rainbow Chicken. Drink up!"

Piccolo sat down at the table and looked at the mug. Slowly and steadily, he picked it up. It smelled strongly of different varieties of cheese, and the smell of coffee, sweet yet bitter, filled his nose. Piccolo put the mug to his mouth and drank it. An expression swept across his face, peculiar yet amusing, and he stood up.

"That was weird," he said, "nothing happened."

"Wait one minute," the Golden Eagle retorted. They waited. Suddenly, Piccolo turned and headed towards the exit, "good luck on your journey!" he yelled.

Piccolo was driven by a strange force, one that he could not control. He tried to lift off, but he plummeted back to Earth. He wanted to stop, but he kept on going. His brain could not control his legs. He walked for miles and miles, yet he did not tire. He walked across Great Plains, hiked through the forests, climbed over mountains.

He stopped on a rock overlooking a valley, placid and full of life. His journey had taken a toll on the rest his body. Able to control himself, he traipsed to a stream and knelt down to take a drink. As he swallowed the cold, delicious water, he heard a sound.

Piccolo looked up, but could see nothing. What is that? He didn't notice, and found himself attacked by a wild Weegee. It snarled and clawed at him, vicious, ruthless, bloodthirsty. Piccolo could not escape the onslaught. He was able to lead it to the edge of the cliff, and the Weegee tripped, sending it falling to its death.

That was close; I'd better leave. Where there's one Weegee, there's bound to be dozens more… He staggered and got to his feet. He bled from multiple wounds, and he limped, one leg dragging behind him. He was drawn towards the valley, with its ancient rock spires. There…

He limped down the path, long, winding, and crumbling from age. His energy reserves had dropped to zero, and he stared at the giant rock tower before him. A large ledge protruded from it, and a cavern entrance stood there.

Piccolo didn't have the energy to climb, he could barely even stand. He gazed at the carvings. Chickens… This is the place. He spoke with the little energy he had, "Rainbow Chicken, help me! Allow this temple to become accessible, so I may save my friend!"

With sound, harsh and grating, stone steps erupted from the spire. They too crumbled from age, and Piccolo wondered if they were safe to walk on, "enter!" a deep voice thundered.

He hobbled up the steps, until he stood at the cavern mouth. He walked inside. A stone corridor, long and winding, stretched out before him. It spiraled downwards, a seemingly endless journey. Piccolo half-stumbled, half-dragged himself down the path and into a clearing.

Large candles slowly burned, casting a dull orange light around the space. On an alter stood a gold statue of a chicken, the individual feathers glowing in the candlelight. A dark shadow enveloped one corner, and Piccolo could almost see a form there.

"Welcome to the temple," a voice, sagacious and godly, crowed.

"Of the Rainbow Chicken?" Piccolo asked, completing the being's sentence.

"Yes," it said, before stepping into the light. It was a chicken, except that its feathers shone, all the colors of the rainbow cloaking him. This led to featherless blue legs that ended in slightly gnarled claws, "why are you here?"

"My friend is dying. The only way I can save him is if I bring him the Canned Bread."

"I have it," the Rainbow Chicken squawked quietly, "but I only give my powers to those whose intentions are true. I have but one challenge for you."

"And that is?"

The Rainbow Chicken motioned towards a sandy pit. He closed and reopened his eyes, and it burst into flames, "this is the Fire of Truth. You will walk through these flames. If you intentions are true, you, like the Phoenix, will rise from your own ashes. However, if you are tricking me, you will spend eternity as a hellish Fire Demon in the greatest depths of Hagsmire."

Author's Note: Hagsmire is the bird Underworld

Piccolo nodded, and stepped into the fire. The heat was intense, yet he felt no pain. He walked out, a fiery aura around him. It gradually died down, until there were just embers at his feet.

"You are worthy of such great a power," the Rainbow Chicken nodded his head. A can appeared in front of him. Scrawled in ancient runes was "Canned Bread".

"Thank you, oh mighty Rainbow Chicken. However shall I get home? I am too weak, too feeble to make the journey home."

The Rainbow Chicken merely nodded before climbing up the spiraling path. Piccolo followed behind, and they stopped at the cliff edge. The Rainbow Chicken grew to 10 times his size, and picked Piccolo up in one of his massive claws.

He lifted off into flight, disturbing the air with immense wing beats, "thank you," Piccolo said.

The Rainbow Chicken did not answer. He landed outside Goku's house on Mt. Pouzu. He let Piccolo down before taking off once more. He screeched as circled twice before soaring out of sight.

Piccolo felt restored, and he marched inside, the Canned Bread under his arms. He walked over to where Gohan lay. The doctor had come back, and spoke, "thank you."

He got a plate from the cabinet, and emptied the can's contents onto it. He quickly wolfed it down before saying, "now I can get to work!"

All Piccolo could was stand there, a stupefied look on his face. His mouth gaped open until it almost touched the floor. All he could do was stay that way for the rest of the day, wondering exactly what had just happened.