Disclaimer: Do you REALLY need my help with this?

Shoutouts! The number has been greatly decreased. . .

Nutz Nina: The sequel might not happen, Nina. Don't get your hopes up. . .

On top of cloud 9: Well bleh to you too. . .

buttons7: What is a plonker? And are you european? If'n you are, that makes 2 of us!

rhoda: Have I mentioned that I love you Miss Eel? If'n I haven't, let me show my affections for you with a hug that will hopefully shatter all your bones-- did I say shatter your bones? GASP I meant, umm, reassure you of our best friendliness. . .

BobtheFrog: Have I mentioned that I love your name? And I didn't really reccommend my stories. . . just ask if'n you'll read them. . . Thanks though.

Evening Lilacs: Yes, yes Lilac. I am glad you read my story. . . even if'n you did write a very long one. . .

End Shoutouts.

Chapter 8 In which Dr. Frankenchicken, his evil sidekick Bob, and a mass of totally mutated chickens take over the world.

"BWAHAHAHAHA! The illusion is complete! Now noone will be able to guess that 'King Jonathan''s crown is not really there! Bob, do something!" The very evil Dr. Frankenchicken commanded his not-so-evil sidekick, Bob. "I am the Ultimate Evil, and I demand you make something of your life!"

Just when he had said this very horrific last sentence, Farrin (for those of you who don't know her, she is the Ultimate Evil, and also the Leader of my much hated enemy club, the Losers. My club is the Lazy Bums. If'n anyone wants to join all they need to do is ask. Big Smile ) jumped through the randomly opened window and hit him with a stick. Then she lept out again.

The doctor screamed. Like a girl.

In correspondence with the earlier question, Bob said,"Yes Master. . ." and proceeded to stare at the wall.

"NO! You are not supposed to be doing that!" Dr. screamed. "Do something productive!"

"Yes master. . ." Bob then drew the Mona Lisa. (They tell you that the Mona Lisa was drawn by Leonardo DaVinchi, but that is all lies. The people who told you that were just too ashamed to admit that the Mona Lisa was drawn by an evil goblin-dude called Bob. And to tell you the truth, who could blame them?)

"NO! You are not supposed to be doing that!" Dr. screamed. "Do something productive!"

The Dr. then threw the Mona Lisa out the window where it was found by Leonardo DaVinchi, who then had to sign his name 'With Love from Bob' for the rest of his life, despite difficult questions.

"Yes master. . ." Bob then proceeded to paint again. This time he didn't even get that far, since Dr. took his paints away.

"Oh well. There is lightning, thunder and rain outside! IT IS TIME!" Dr. roared! "Get the chicken, Bob!"

Bob obeyed, strapping two-hundred chickens to the movable table.

"NO! I only want one chicken on the table, Bob! What if something goes wrong?"

"Yes master. . ."

Bob then took one-hundred and ninety-nine chickens off that tabke and strapped them to the OTHER movable table in the far corner of the room.

"Yes. . . perfect. . ." Dr. rubbed his hands together greedily, his eyes dancing, the very picture of mischief. "Hey wait! Eyes get back here!" Once Dr. Frankenchicken had gotten his eyes back, he ordered Bob to raise the table with only one chicken up into the terrifyingly huge thunder storm. Unfortunately, lightning snaked down the table's pole and killed the doctor before he could tell Bob to bring it down. Therefore the chickens got too much electrocution.

When Bob decided it was a good time to bring the chicken down it looked very creepy. It had bulging red eyes and murderous talons. Its feathers were a bright neon green. It squawked and walked over to the other table and pecked every one of the other chickens. After a moment, the chickens that had just been pecked morphed into the creepy chickens. Exact replicas of it in fact.

Then they proceeded to destroy the room. They would have destroyed Bob too, except that he was very innocently painting, so they ignored him. They ripped a hole in the space time continum and arrived in Tortal. Where they destroyed everything. THE END

End Chapter 8

O.K. I am NOT writing another one of these. No way. . . I am on to bigger and better things now. Like DNAngel. . . And drooling over the picture of Dark that Evening Lilacs gave me. . .