With the cord ripped, fifty per cent of Rogyr’s legs detached.
This left two dangling, as a thousand others spun earthward to a hungry crowd.
Rogyr surveyed cloned comrades (whose spirits were yet unique).
Propwash blasted puckered skin,
until trussed forms swayed under bright 4LegsGood! canopies.
The Board would be pleased.
Rogyr pecked gently where new limbs would form.
Exactly as drummed in.
But something was wrong.
A last-minute harness logo enhancement pressured the femoral area –
weakened by gene meddling, and air frying.
Once the blood started, no Rogyr could stop.
With a drop height beyond terminal velocity, the result was spectacular.
But not in the way Marketing had foretold.
Golden sands no longer.
Sapphire waves shot through.
The upturned faces of Platinummm Punters baptised
with a brush across the lintel,
but no benediction.
The launch’s demise
could jeopardise the campaign.
Maybe even the new line.
Research were livid, having warned of precisely this risk.
And though outlets were divided, the emergency hit prime time.
Legal summoned stakeholders.
But the gormless copywriter had flown.
Rogyr bled out in the arms of children,
who’d never touched chicken.
Again.
[Unloved entry to September 2022 Furious Fiction.]