Chapter Two – Chicks and Sherbet
Charlie sat there in a daze, absent-mindedly taking his hand and snorting it, realising there was no sherbet there. It had been almost a month now since Charlie had last snorted sherbet – he was deprived and suffering withdrawal symptoms. The food did not taste the same, nor did the water. But then when had water been tasty? He was only vaguely aware of Turniphead as the little baby squirmed in his makeshift cot. Crawling like a toddler himself, Charlie looked at Turniphead and searched the baby's covers frantically;
"I know you keep sherbet here somewhere Turniphead! How dare you defy me, I am a Rock God!"
"What are you doing Charlie?"
The ex-sherbet junkie turned around to look at Locke. "I believe that's my cot, I made it, therefore whatever is in there, is mine." He continued.
Charlie looked down puzzled; "You own Turniphead?"
"Yes. It's his destiny." Came his reply.
"What destiny?"
"I don't know, but you look like you could do with some fun. Have you seen my long hard hatch yet?"
"You know Locke, I don't think I have. Show it to me later. I told Boone I'd go see him and fend off those crazy chicks after him."
Once Charlie brought his body to where Boone slept, he noticed fencing everywhere, and Boone in an army helmet with paint drawn across his face.
"What you doing there Boone?" Charlie asked, trying to get past the fencing.
"Those chicks are after me!" Boone screamed, picking up a rock and hurling it at a boy passing.
"I think you just killed that boy."
"They're all the same!" Boone cried.
"So, these chicks, where are they?"
But before Boone could answer, a thousand chickens came running across the beach, clucking and gobbling as they headed straight towards Charlie and Boone.
"Oh God!" They cried together. "At least I'm safe in here, they can't hurt me!" Boone said happily.
"Hey, thanks." Charlie muttered.