You despaired at your current state as Curtis continued to get ready for his day. You could barely move with this udder, and you were certain 8 more hours would surely let it grow heavy enough to pin you to the ground. You struggle to get into a standing position, but the weight hurts your joints even after a few seconds of lifting this milk-filled monstrosity off the ground. You can do little more than roll the udder forward to "stand" over it, but then your stance is too wide to move more than inches at a time.
You hear the roar of a car's ignition, and the telltale signs that it has driven away. Hopefully, it was Curtis. You drag your body to the gate of your coop, at least until your udder uncomfortably squishes into it.
The next fifteen minutes were spent in futility trying to undo the latch. Your pig hooves were too clumsy and thick to reach through the fence and manipulate the device. It was frustrating, since you could reach it but not open it due to a lack of opposable thumbs. You then spent the next 5 minutes exhausting your arms by shaking and pushing into the fence, trying to knock it over from the inside. You grew more desperate as the pressure within your udder churned with a need for release, and lifted a leg to try and kick your way out.
This caused you to realize a few things. First, your legs were surprisingly flexible, and you could easily twist your leg to chest-height. Perhaps that shouldn't have been a surprise, since chickens use their feet to scratch their face, after all. Second, compared to your arms, your legs were huge. Sure, the scaled yellow ends were relatively thin compared to the bulk of your body, but the muscle where your leg joined your body was huge and you were effectively an ostrich-sized chicken based on your eggs. Lastly, the coop's metal fence made for great grappling points for your long, clawed toes.
You planted your left foot to the ground, hooked your right foot into the gate, then rocked your entire weight into the fence. Unlike with your arms, you could feel the coop sway and hear the creaking groan of metal as you did so. Exhilaration filled you, and you shoved with new purpose. Your sloshing udder gave all sorts of unpleasant sensations as it also got pressed into the fence, but it was unavoidable. Your freedom was at hand!
Your motions became rhythmic, and each push made the bars sway a tiny amount more than the last. It was exhausting, but you refused to stop until you were free. In time, the hinges began to grow loose themselves, and with a few more weighty pushes into it, the metal snapped away. No longer held on one side, you pressed the door open, using the lock as a new hinge. Through ragged breaths, you force your body through the new doorway, and collapse to the ground immediately outside.
Your entire body was on fire after pushing it for as long as you did, and your relatively small mouth gave woefully little air to cool yourself off. You still had a fence to jump or collapse, but you needed a breather after getting free of that coop. You look down at your udder, which has now grown slightly red from the earlier abuse. Carrying its weight around definitely didn't help during this, and it might still pin you down if you rest for too long.