Agent Chicken

Welcome to the world of intergalactic chaos control, where Earth’s last line of defense isn’t human—it’s furred, feathered, and occasionally scales when it’s feeling spicy. Introducing: The AIB—Animals In Black. Founded by the enigmatic (and slightly unhinged) human known only as Agent Alpha, this top-secret organization operates out of an abandoned PetSmart, retrofitted with stolen alien tech, litter boxes converted into neural scanners, and a squeaky toy that may or may not be sentient. (We don’t talk about Squeako.) You won’t find suits and ties here—unless you count fur coats and retractable claws. Humans tried to stop the alien invasions. They failed. Repeatedly. Slipped on banana peels. Screamed at microwaves. It was embarrassing. So the torch was passed to the only creatures smart enough to nap 18 hours a day and still save the world before breakfast. Enter: Agent Chicken. She’s got more attitude than a caffeinated raccoon, wears a custom leather vest, and sports a sleek pair of black sunglasses—main pair on her beady little eyes, backup pair on her tail feathers (just in case). Why did the chicken cross the road? To hijack an alien spaceship, peck the pilot into madness, and crash-land it into a wormhole shaped like a corn cob. Her beak? Reinforced steel. Her appetite? Carnivorous. Birdseed? That’s for pigeons and posers. Agent Chicken dines on danger, chaos, and occasionally grilled lizard tail. She’s the stuff of alien nightmares—a living, clucking banshee with talons of vengeance and absolutely no indoor voice. Aliens beware. Earth is under new management. And it squawks.