Thunderfunk the Superchicken

Prologue: Of Beginnings and Flight

The bird stood on the edge of the cliff, looking out over the majestic view of the canyon stretching out far below him. A river wound its way through the bottom, half in shadow from the rising sun. A slight breeze ruffled his white plumage. For a long moment, he stood, unmoving, head tilted to one side to better capture the sights before him. The wind picked up ever so slightly, almost as though it were signalling to the bird: It’s time to take flight.
Slowly he stretched his wings, waiting for his moment. With a quick step and strong flap he leapt off of the cliff, almost immediately catching an updraft. He soared into the air, circling higher. A glint of metal caught his eye in the distance, a foreign object in the sky. The sound of propellers floated across the air, enticing the bird. He drifted towards the biplane, an ancient looking relic, garishly painted in a mix of bright yellow and eye-popping green. It was flying relatively slow, and the two of them drifted side by side for a time.
The pilot glanced over and grinned at his new flying partner before pulling back on the stick and performing a wide loop. His goggles nearly fell off of his head at the apex, but the bird didn’t notice. He was copying the plane, following its path. An aerial ballet began to play out as bird and plane danced around each other in the sky, performing barrel rolls, dive bombs, and other high flying manoeuvres. Finally the pilot pulled his plane level, impressed that the bird kept up. He activated his radio link. “Hey Thunder, how’s everything running?”
The bird performed a quick barrel roll, looking over his shoulder at the jet pack on his back. “This is working out rather well,” he replied. “And it is much lighter than the last pack you built for me.” He swooped around in a tight circle, and then a second, adding twists near the apex both times. “This will help me crush my enemies.” An odd mixture of evil laughter and evil clucking transmitted itself over the radio.
Straw Daq shook his head and sighed. “Whatever you say Thunder. Let’s take it back to headquarters.” It wasn’t easy controlling an evil genius, especially when that evil genius was a seven foot tall chicken, but that seemed to have become his role in life. At least the pay was better than it had been dusting crops and doing the occasional air show for small town fairs. With any luck he’d be able to show the bird the error of his ways, or at least keep him from killing anyone. With the flip of a switch his biplane readied itself for mach speed. “C’mon, Thunderfunk, I’ll race you.”
“You’re on.” A burst of fire shot out from the back of the rocket pack, accelerating him to sonic speeds in seconds. Straw hit his boosters and set a course straight for home. Straight as the Superchicken flies…