Primeval

Prompt logo - Flashback Track Friday

This is my response to this week’s Flashback Track Friday prompt, where we were given Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft by The Carpenters and asked to:

Write a story about first contact.

Once upon a time…

“… and so, in conclusion”, Colonel Clucker mustered as statesman-like a voice as she could find, “I would like to present you with this small token from the people of Coopillion, to symbolise the future bonds we hope to forge between our two, great species.”

And with that, Colonel Clucker nodded to Private Pecker, who stepped carefully forward, holding a regally purple, velvet cushion, upon which had been placed a single brown egg, warm from basking in the sunlight.

There had been much discussion about this act at the Chicken High Council. The planet’s living conditions were tolerable, but the planet’s main occupants, the humans, were in general a primitive, barbaric specie. So primitive, in fact, that there had been a long debate about whether it was even worth making contact.

Had it not been for Private Pecker, whose chance remark, that humans would benefit from eating eggs to increase their intelligence, had been overheard by an elder.

And thus were sown the seeds of the idea. To contact the humans, but at the same time to present them with a gift which would hopefully bring their intellects up to the level of the chickens. Their own, unfertilised eggs. Useless, unfertilised, to chickens, but containing the ideal blend of vitamins and nutrients to promote brain growth in humans.

A whole brigade had been dispatched from the CCC – the Chicken Catering Corps – to create as many mouth-watering recipes as possible, and Pecker was immensely proud that she herself, having been assigned to oversee the project in recognition of her original idea, had masterminded the delicate intricacy of the soufflé.

And, finally, they were prepared. Colonel Clucker’s breast had swelled with pride, as she learned that she was to lead the greeting party, and she felt a tremendous sense of achievement now that her task was complete. The chickens had successfully made contact.

The three humans, however, were quite unprepared for such an eloquent speech, and Clucker was slightly perturbed when one of them left the scene, then returned a moment later, his hand glinting in the sunlight.

Author: Mister Bump UK

Designed/developed large IT systems, interrupted by a stroke in 2016, aged 48. Now mix development of health-related software with voluntary work and writing. Married, with a grown-up, left-home daughter.

5 thoughts on “Primeval”

    1. Thanks. Maybe you should write something about first contact? Maybe Nitro is it? I meank, do you really know where he came from?
      Do you think you made a good impression?
      What’s interesting about that, maybe there’s a planet full of dogs somewhere?

      Liked by 1 person

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