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This immediately made me think of Mushu.

"Two gold," the merchant said. "She's a special chicken, this one. Spits fire and is able to speak."

"That's a fire hazard," Annie countered. "She could burn down my barn. And who wants a fowl that can complain and argue? Two silvers, and you should count yourself lucky to get rid of her at that price."

"Excuse me, I'm right here. I can hear you!" Daisy the hen squawked. "And I think I'm damned well worth at least five gold, you cretins."

Annie and the merchant exchanged a look. "Case in point," Annie added, folding her arms squarely over her chest.

"Fine. Four silver, and I'll be happy to see the last of her."

"Three."

The merchant threw up his arms in exasperation. "All right, all right. Three. Take her and begone, you merciless farmgirl."

Annie slipped out three silver pieces from her coinpurse, depositing them in the merchant's outstretched hand.

"All yours," he grumbled, and she scooped up the cage that Daisy was in. As Annie turned to head back home, out of the corner of her eye, she caught the beginning of a sly smile on the merchant's face. Damn. She could have probably gotten him down to one silver.

Once they were back at the barn, Annie let Daisy out of the cage and into the chicken coop. Instead of joining the other chickens, Daisy turned and looked straight into Annie's eyes.

"Now, this is how things are going to be," Daisy said. "I need to hunt every day. You'll let me out of the coop every morning and every night so I can procure my meals."

"You're a chicken," Annie replied. "You can't hunt. More likely, a wolf will have you for dinner and my three silvers will have gone to waste. No, you're staying in the coop."

Daisy squawked with laughter. "A wolf? I'd like to see him try. Don't you know who you're talking to, missy? I'm the descendant of Sezzira, Lady of Fire, Destroyer of Cities. No mere wolf could match me."

"Any old chicken could claim that," Annie replied. "And besides, I haven't even seen you breathe fire yet. Your whole story is probably nothing but a pile of balderdash."

In one fluid movement, Daisy spun away from the barn, opened her mouth, and let loose a 20-foot plume of blazing flame into the sky.

Annie shut up.

"Right, now that we've got that over with, back to my demands," Daisy continued on. Behind her, the other chickens were running away, falling over one another in a blind panic.

"I need to hunt, and I'll need a hoard. Preferably full of gold, but I'll make do with coppers in a pinch."

---

/r/theBasiliskWrites

I seriously need this to be a full length story. Or even a series of short stories. This prompt is awesome and you nailed it 100%. Now we need to know Daisy's back story.

Ah yes, the infamous Hyrulean chicken.

I had been noticing some odd things around the farm recently. In the corner of the barn I started to see a pile of junk. Bits of broken tools, foil, beads and things like that. Just a pile a glittering crap I figured I would clean up before long. I hadn’t had the time to spare though since my damn cats ran away. You have to be real careful with traps and poison when you got livestock so I had to take care of the rat problem myself with my old .22. That right there is about a full time job. Damn cats. One night I was down near the silo shooting, and damned if I didn’t see one of my hogs with a mouth full of the ball bearings I had in the shed walking right into the damn barn where that junk pile was.

I had never heard of a hog stockpiling trash like that before, but these critters are more clever than you would think. I’ve seen them do all kinds of things so it didn’t surprise me too bad. I can’t guess why animals do what they do sometimes, and this was more of an inconvenience than anything. It could get to be a problem though, so I had to change all my chores around to clean it out in the morning.

I suppose the whole situation had me pretty pissed off. Usually I try to be even keeled but things on a farm have a way of getting out of hand if you don’t double down and fix things before they get worse. I was still pretty sore about having to work double though. I reckon I was in a pretty bad mood when I marched up to that barn, and I don’t believe it helped my situation much. I suited up for trash clean-up, grabbed my trash can, and headed up to the barn.

It was the damndest thing I saw when I came into that barn that morning. One of my chickens was there. Before I could figure how in the hell the damn thing got out of the pen, it started talking. I am of sound mind and solid constitution, but damned if my chicken didn’t start talking when it saw me. It said, “Insolent human. You dare enter my lair?” in a little squawking clucking kind of voice.

I had to rub my eyes. I hadn’t been drinking and I hadn’t been sniffing glue so I guess I figured I was still dreaming. I was feeling haughty, so I said “You put your lair in my barn, kid. Not sure you can afford a room in here if that junk is all you got.” I didn’t know then that I would regret those words.

At the time I didn’t know then where that fire came from, but the moment after I had uttered those words my pant leg was on fire. I screamed “shit!” and set about trying to put myself out. I was dancing around, swatting it with my hands, and ended up rolling on the ground (If you were thinking why I didn’t roll first I guess you don’t spend much time in barns). All this is to say I was distracted. I’m not sure how long it took me to get it out, but when I looked up every single surface of my barn was covered in rats. All over the partitions, the walls, the loft, everything. I froze right there.

The chicken clucked out in that little voice, “This is my barn, and this is my farm. You tried to hide my true nature from me. You tried to hide my heritage but I learned, human. I learned. Your puny, mundane mind can’t begin to imagine what I learned. I’ll explain the part that is of interest to you, and I believe that you of all people should be able to understand. Humans exist to serve my kind. You are our beasts of burden and you are part of our supply of meat. All those that wish to live must pay tribute to me or perish in flame.”

That fire was sure real enough so I no longer suspected I was dreaming. It was clear that I was in a bind. From the look of things I figure my cats didn’t run away either. The little critter had friends, and if you ever suffered a rat bite you may imagine the amount of trouble I was in. All that indignity I had earlier was gone, and I was rightly terrified. I squeaked out in a voice no more forceful than my chickens, “I imagine so, I apologize for my insolence your majesty.” I half cringed at that last part but can you blame me? How could I have been prepared for something like this?

The rats cleared the way to the entrance like it was Moses parting the red sea. The little chicken demanded, “My tribute, human. Present to me my tribute and you will live to see another day.”

“Y-yes your highness.” I shuffled out of there real quick, I can tell you that. All my livestock was lined up out there staring at me too. By some blessing from somewhere, I had figured when I started out that I was haul the junk directly to the yard just outside of town, so I had my truck keys on me. I made like I was headed to the house to find an offering of some sort, but I suddenly doubled back and dashed over to my pickup. The sound that I heard was bone-chilling. Pigs, goats, cows, chickens, and about a thousand rats let out such a wail when I did that and started coming after me. I about leapt through my damn driver window and pressed that accelerator right to the floor. I had to do a little fancy driving to get out of there as quick as I did, but by the lord I made it.

I’m still reeling from the experience, I can tell you that. As I sit here in this little motel writing all this out, I thought that some kind of plan would occur to me but is sure hasn’t. I am in well over my head.

I don't even know why I'm on this farm. I mean sure my parents are farmers and all, but that doesn't mean 'I' want to be one. The same old laboring routine day in and day out. So sick of it. I want to be a city boy living in my air conditioned condo rather than shoveling manure. Living in riches, comfort, and style. I want to get out of this no name hick town and make it big for myself!

Then I met 'it'. I thought my prayers have been answered. The great lord Clucky in the sky has granted me a gift so grand and bewitching that I would be seen in T.V.s and billboards nationwide! I would be famous!

Well it was short-lived. 'It' or rather she was the most arrogant, selfish, entitled, self-righteous chicken, if it even is a chicken with its scales under its feathers, that I have ever met! Calling me an idiot or a knave. Saying how she will not be trifled with such a task to jester herself in front of others. Telling me that my goals are nothing compared to the noble task to bring about the age of dragons back into the world. Bragging about her solemn duty or what-not. Talk about a stuck up prude.

She keeps prattling on about how she intends to restore her clan and seek vengeance upon the clan of the McDonald, the Chick-fil-A, and the Zaxby for slaughtering the descendents of dragons. As if a mere chicken can do anything about it...

Days passed and I decided to keep it a secret to my family and since I'm the one mainly responsible for the chicken coup. I don't think anyone will find out about her for now. She was mostly quiet and tended to only speak when I came by to collect eggs or feed the chickens. She kept talking about finding another of her kind that showed high traces of the noble "dragon" blood for joining her clan. Pfft as if just because you speak and have small patches of scales, you're a dragon! I mostly ignored her after being told that my search for wealthy comfort in the city was a foolish quest.

"Are you still upset about last time young lad?"

"No..."

"Oh, come now, a boy like you couldn't possibly..."

"POSSIBLY WHAT?! HAVE A DREAM?!" I snapped back.

I've had it... I ran back home.

At dinner, I had an argument with my family. They wanted me to take over their family business. I told them I wanted to go to the city. They forbade it and I could do nothing, but feel the frustration. I ran out the house and decided to hide behind one of the barns and sat down to cool myself down.

It was a full moon tonight. Not just any full moon. The biggest and brightest moon I had ever seen tucked in its hazy dark blue blanket of clouds.

"Beautiful night isn't it? Young squire."

I looked back sideways as I dug my head under my arms.

"What would you know? You're a chicken..."

"Yes. But deep down I know I'm different. And I will embrace that difference, never letting it go. I will never give up and I will never let anyone tell me otherwise."

"I don't get it. Why are you calling yourself a dragon in the first place? I only see you as a talking chicken."

"Well I see you as a diligent honest farmer boy, but apparently you call yourself a city boy."

"That's different."

"... Okay well I'll tell you what. If I show you something, promise me that you won't give up on your dreams."

"..."

She begins to inhale while holding her breath. You can see faint sparks in her throat. Spontaneous glows and lights flare up inside. Then in an instant she bellows out a flame as large as my fist.

At first I wasn't sure what to think or say. My eyes widened as the whole thing played out. I just sat there looking at her while she stood there coughing into her feathered wings while she softly muttered, "I hope I didn't barbecue my throat."

The first thing I said or rather yelled was...

"YOU CAN BREATHE FIRE!?!?!"

"I told you I was a dragon!" She replied as she smirked.

As I was laughing and smiling I gazed upwards slowly and realized my mom with her mouth wide-opened and staring downwards towards the talking fire breathing beast.

[Post-script] Hello. First time here. I didn't know how to end it. I'm not very great at this due to a lack of or zero experience. I still hope you enjoyed it.

The town was ablaze, and the chicken squawked with joy. "The gold, human! Pillage it all."

Claire's gaze danced across the slithering flames. The houses she once knew were now piles of ash and charred wood. The people she had grown up with were running and screaming at the top of their lungs, a parade of despair. Not too far from her, the gluttonous fire had engulfed the slow and unfortunate, turning them into featureless monsters.

Claire laughed, and she did so with turbulent delight.

"Human, the gold I said!" The hen's squawk cut through the roaring discord.

Claire shook her head, coming back to herself. She picked up the chicken and bolted toward Mr. Gunch's house. It was the largest of them all, and not far away. The flames were nibbling at the sides, and the door was wide open, which meant the Gunches had already left.

She made her way inside, and past the hallway, she entered Mr. Gunch's office. There, sitting and staring out the window, was Mr. Gunch. His eyes were covered in tears and his extremities trembled with unhinged fear.

Claire stopped dead in her tracks. "Mr Gunch? What are you doing here? The house is about to collapse."

"I can't leave. I'm too fat to stand up alone," he said. "My family left me here, on my command. I was going to slow them down. Death has come, at last." He turned to Claire, his stare beyond the veil of tears was ice-cold. "And if you have come for my riches, girl, know that they are not here anymore."

Claire nodded. "I thought as much." She dug out a butcher's knife from her pocket and without a word, sliced Mr. Gunch's hands with one swift swing. The obese man screamed as the blood poured out. "But these rings you've got are quite the bounty. As a payment, I'll give you the most honorable death of them all. Norbert, do your thing."

"You don't command me, peasant!" the chicken squawked but proceeded to vomit a cloud of fire onto Mr. Gunch. "You owe me, human! Let's leave. Too much smoke for you."

---

Far from the town, and with the rings extracted from the hands, Norbert spoke. "We need to be smarter, human. I bet there were treasures here and we only got five rings."

"Perhaps," Claire said, "you should have listened to me when I told you to trust me and be patient instead of incinerating everything on a whim. Dragons were wise not because of being dragons, but because of their age and you are young, very young. If we are going to restore your kin, and if you are going to make me queen of all things, you should listen to me until you grow older."

"Fair," Norbert said and shook little remnants of smoke from his wings. "I didn't think you had it in you. I was gonna use you until I found a good human to help me restore my clan. That of the Iztran dragons, sleepers of Iztrandross, once rulers of the world."

Claire paused for a moment. Her mind collected what she had done and processed it. She smiled then. "I didn't think I had it in me either. But it seems my morality is flexible given the right incentives. It's an interesting thing, though. How what I thought was unswerving turned supple when put to test."

"So much blabbering, where next?"

"Taritar, and this time, you follow my command."

Norbert huffed fire. "Fine. Only this time."

---

You can read more of my stories at r/AStoryToRuleThemAll

[removed]

"Hey, uh, Earl?" My wife Janet called from the back door. "What breed did ya' say these new chickens were?"

I looked up from my breakfast, swallowing the scrambled eggs before responding. "Jersey Giants, why?"

Janet glanced back into the yard, then back to me. "One of them is, well, different."

I took a sip of my black coffee. "You think he's a Roo? Happens, 's hard to tell when they're youngn's-"

"Its breathing fire and speaking english." Janet blurted out.

I froze mid-sip, coffee mug suspended by my lips. "You what now?"

Janet stepped to the side, giving me a clear view to the back yard... and the smoke billowing from within the coop.

"What in tarnation!" I cried, dropping the mug and sprinting outside. "Grab the extinguisher, there's a fahr!"

I sprinted to the coop, and flung open the side door, prepared to rescue as many birds as I could. As it turned out, there was only one chicken in there, snuggled into the nesting box where they preferred to lay eggs.

I grabbed the chicken and pulled it through the door, leaving behind the eggs it was brooding upon.

"UNHAND ME, HUMAN!" the bird screamed, belching a small puff of fire from its beak. "OR THOU SHALT FACE MY WRATH".

I dropped the bird, and took a few steps back.

"Sorry, Henrietta, but there's a fahr in there." I said to the chicken, realizing just how ridiculous that was. Apologizing to a chicken, much less talking to a chicken, was just absurd.

"I AM NO HENRIETTA! I AM KHEFLEACHS, MOTHER OF DRAGONS! AND I SHALL RESTORE MY CLAN TO OUR FORMER GLORY!" the bird said, punctuating its statement with a tremendous belch of flames for a bird of its size. This happened to equate to roughly the size of a cigarette lighter.

"Erm, what's tha' now?" I said, momentarily forgetting the issue of the burning coop.

"FOOL!" Henrietta cried, flapping her arms with irritation. "I AM NOT INCLINED TO REPEAT MYSELF TO SATISFY YOUR MEAGER CURIOSITY."

Janet opened the back door, holding the fire extinguisher aloft. "Earl, I think thisn's empty." she said, shaking it slightly.

From between her legs, our dog Biscuit emerged, drawn by all the commotion. She sniffed, and caught sight of the loose bird standing beside me.

"Biscuit, NO!" I shouted, as the dog leapt into motion.

"STAY BACK, BEAST, BEFORE I AM FORCED TO SILENCE YOU ETERNAAAAAAAAAAAA" Henrietta screamed, as Biscuit snatched her torso in his jaws.

With a sickening snap, a small burst of sparks and blood shot across the lawn, and Henrietta fell limp.

"Biscuit!" I scolded. "Bad dog!"

Biscuit dropped Henrietta's dead body, lowering his head apologetically. I felt along the chicken's body, and found no signs of life.

I turned back to the coop, and found the source of the smoke.

Three eggs lay in the nesting box that Henrietta had occupied just minutes earlier. They were a strange texture, almost like a fish scale instead of the smooth eggshell I would expect. The eggs were each emitting a plume of smoke.

"Damnit, the eggs turned." I muttered, collecting the warm eggs with one hand.

Holding the eggs in one hand and Henrietta's corpse in the other, I walked back towards the house. "Janet" I called to my wife. "Could ya' get a trash bag for these?"

/r/SlightlyColdStories for more

I was really hoping Annie would keep her attitude and have banter with Daisy more, but alas lol

This should be an unofficial part two to the Love, Death, and Robots about the farm. How the hell did the chicken get so intelligent? And did it grant the farm.animals some the of intelligence to follow it's orders? Magic?

Such things are beyond a puny human's comprehension. This is the domain of dragons.

Thanks for the feedback! I was going for a horror comedy kind of tone, and the way this chicken attained a higher intelligence and was able to control animals as a consequence of being a dragon was intentionally left ambiguous to invoke the fear of the unknown. Having such an incomprehensible horrifying thing happening to someone so down to earth is very funny to me. I love a good dichotomy.

"Anyway..." Said the dark skinned chef, in his delicately accented tone. "That's how I invented chicken vindaloo."

[removed]

[removed]

And forward story!

I'm glad you liked it so much! Thanks for reading :)

Haha I had to get back to work, hence the quick wrap-up