Jenny waddled around the living room, still flapping her elbows and making her breasts and thighs jiggle and slap. She occasionally stopped to scratch at the ground like a chicken and idly cluck about how fat her butt was. Wendoline sat on the couch and slowly dialed a number with a trembling thumb.
“I haven’t talked to her since high school,” the distressed mother quavered, “I hope she’s still into all of this occult stuff.” She tapped the call button, and shakily held her phone to her ear, quietly begging for them to pick up.
“Buck buck buck,” Jenny clucked, “What’s wrong, Mom? Buck buck…”
“Just nervous about calling this person I haven’t seen in a long time,” Wendoline sighed, “I just hope they know what to do.”
“Ooh! Ooh! I know! Buck bawk!” Jenny wiggled her humongous hams in her mother’s face. “Rub my butt! It’ll bring good luck! Bu-caw!”
“Wh-WHAT?!” Wendoline squealed, “Jennifer Smith! I raised you better than this!”
“Please rub my buck buck butt! Bu-caw!” Jenny pleaded, flapping her arms frantically, “It’ll make you super lucky if you rub my buck buck chicken butt, buck-KAWW!”
“O-okay,” the mother quavered, hesitantly reaching out a hand to touch Jenny’s jiggling ass. She pet it gently, feeling the incredibly soft, baby like skin of her ridiculous rump. She set her phone on speaker and started massaging her daughter’s doughy derrière, which made the chicken girl crow contentedly. This meaty tuchus was making her worries melt away a little bit.
Just then, the phone picked up. “Hello? Who is this?” a woman’s voice went through the speaker.
“Matilda!” Wendoline shouted, suddenly stopping her massage to pick up her phone. Jenny crowed with disappointment and went back to strutting and jiggling.
“Wendy?!” Matilda gasped, “Is that you?! It’s been so long! How have you been all these years! I haven’t heard from you since high school!”
“This is an emergency, Matilda,” Wendy explained hastily, “My Jennifer got cursed!”
“What?!” Matilda cried, “You didn’t tell me you were into girls, Wends! How come-“
“She’s my daughter,” Wendy sighed.
“Oh… never mind,” Matilda answered, “You said she was cursed? The town curse? What happened to her?”
“She uhh… she thinks she’s a chicken and her butt’s the size of a refrigerator.”
“I’m at your door now! Let me in!”
“H-how?!”
“You know very well how! Let me in!”