A fowl occurance

85 Tauren Druid
Cats innately have ways of knowing, and upon their knowing they have a habit of doing what's least expected (and perhaps least wanted) of them. Fortunately for the world they rarely care what happens around them so long as they are fed and given a place to sleep, Unfortunately for the AAMS...one young druid apparently missed that lesson.

"...Lay on command?"

The druid nodded emphatically "That's right! Lay on command...and be inedible. Not the eggs though, that would defeat the purpose. They are a gift you see to entice people to take the cats!.'

Blinking slowly the elf eyed the ball of blinding white fur "I see...and what are we to do with them after they are enchanted?"

"Oh, just send them to Yotingo! he will know what to do, though don't tell him who they are from. Anonymous gift you know, can't just have the whole world knowing I do nice things for people! Would ruin the image."

Stifling a sigh the mage nodded once "but of course...we will get right on it."

After the druid was gone he turned to the stack of crates each clucking and protesting its confinement to the world at large. This was going to be a long day.
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86 Troll Shaman
<a one-sided conversation heard over a hearthstone...>

My mailbox be full of CHICKENS, mon! Lots 'n' lots of chickens!

No, mon, I dunno where dey came from.

No, dey don't seem ta be explode-able.

Nor do dey be explodin', naw. But when Recruit Courier Jonni say he be layin' down ta take a nap in da back, dey all popped out eggs!

Yes, mon, eggs! Every single one. No, not jest one o' dem, ALL o' dem. All out da same time, mon!

No, I checked deir heads. Eggs don't come from heads, dey come from butts.

No, mon, I don't be layin' eggs either.

I dunno! I got a bunch o' chickens 'n' eggs, mon! What's da AAMS policy fo' dat?

Ya? Ya don't be t'inkin' all da kitties be eatin' all da eggs an' da chickens?

Ya? Give dem a choice of chicken, cat, or egg?

Sure t'ing, mon. I be puttin' dem in da AAMS vaults, ya.

An' jest be lettin' da company know, mon, neva say da word "lay" around da guild vaults, unless ya want--<abrupt cut-off>

...ya, mon, I be fine. Scrambled eggs fo' lunch. An' dem some.
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90 Goblin Shaman
Kezrin took her normal perch on the edge of the Wyvern Tail's porch, cat carrier safely stored just far enough away to avoid the MEWMEWMEWs.

"'bout time you showed up," she greeted her sister as Myzzi walked up the stairs.

Myzzi scoffed and sat down beside her.

"Slow day today," Kezrin said. "No takers. How 'bout you? Any luck?"

"A few here and there."

Kezrin rolled her eyes and grumbled, "....it's easier when they're not being little monsters..."

"Not this again," Myzzi said with a sigh. "They are perfect angels. Besides, you have someone who wants three monsters."

"What? Who?"

"That ah... Tyrexus fellow."

Kezrin coughed suddenly. "Err... Tyrexus?" she said with a slight catch. "And he wants three monsters?"

Had Myzzi not seen the flyers at the office? Sure, he had been perfectly nice to the two of them, but Kezrin wasn't completely blind.

"Well, he wants three of the 'feraler' ones."

"Did he say why?"

Myzzie thought about it moment. "Err... I think he had some people to give then to as gifts or somethin'. Didn't ask too much."

A gift? That didn't sound too bad. She relaxed a little. "Oh. Well, I suppose that's all right."

Kezrin was already thinking about which cats to give him. Definitely the orange one. That orange one. And maybe the one who ripped her hem….

The thought of finally being rid of them kept her occupied on the walk back to the office. She didn't notice the harried look on Joni's face, or the cartons of eggs sitting on every counter.

She chuckled, lost in thought, as she opened the door to the cat room-





She stared at the room without flinching, curiously looking into the cloud of feathers drifting through the air.

Quietly, and without a fuss, she shut the door.

She stood there, her brain unable to process this new information, with the strange except of one question...

"I wonder what happened to the orc."
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90 Goblin Shaman
Kezrin hummed a cheerful- and familiar - tune as she helped pack the "merchandise" that was being sent to the Alliance guild.

"Hey, Kez, I got the fireworks ya asked for!" Myzzi walked into with her arms full of the devices. "You must be in a really good mood to let me use them!"

Kezrin flashed a toothy goblin grin at her sister. "What's not to be cheerful about? We spend weeks gettin' rid of dem cats, but we find a taker for all the chickens in only one day! All of them!"

A client, wishing to remain anonymous, had taken all the chickens… and then promptly hired the AAMS to send them as anonymous gifts to the guild of "a certain extra ugly rogue" ....with a small handful held aside for a delivery to another renown individual.

The anonymous sender had explicit instructions on how to deliver the chickens, and Kezrin was all too happy to see they were carried out. The customer was always right!

Myzzi nodded happily. "I'll just lay these-"


The whole room chorused clucks as the chicken simultaneously laid their eggs. Myzzi dropped the fireworks to throw her hands over her ears.

Kezrin merrily continued her humming, strangely unaffected by the cacophony.

At last the noise died down to a few squawks. Kezrin waved her sister over to one of the cages.

"First, we're not blasting these chickens off, gotcha? In fact, here's what I want you to do….remember that one letter you sent..."

A few hours later, the crates were being shipped off to the Hinterlands. Myzzi mourned her pile of disassembled explosives, while Kezrin enjoyed her peace and quiet.

"Bye-bye, chickens!"


A strange shipment arrived for the people of Aerie Peak, addressed to Terra Incognita. Two dozen crates of clucking chickens… and a couple of irritable cats that somehow got included.

A letter and a strange goblin device are attached to the first of the crates.

Dear Terra Incognita:

(the letter begins to….hum?)

An anonymous donor wished to send you these chickens! They are specially charmed so they can't be eaten, but will lay eggs on command. Just be careful about saying the magic word!

There is no need to send thanks in return, and don't even think about sending them back! To prevent you from being even tempted, the moment this letter began to hum, it started a timer to open all the cages. Those little explosions you are hearing are the locks being blown to bits. Hopefully they won't startle the chickens too badly! You did open this letter inside, right, so they wouldn't run away?

Have a wonderful day, and thank you for doing business with the AAMS!

Kezin Kanzelry
AAMS Horde Branch

((Oh, did she forget to tell you what the magic word is? Oops…))
Edited by Kezrin on 2/23/2012 1:44 PM PST
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90 Blood Elf Priest
(( mmmm, yes..yes. *makes hand puppet motions for the chickens* run my pretties.))
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90 Troll Priest
Zalmar cruised to a landing outside the AAMS office, the frost still crackling off his windriders wings.

"Frozen Light mon, dat Nort'rend be COLD times mon.. an' ain't nobody wantin ta 'ear de word up dere no ways..."

Muttering to himself, the elegantly attired troll entered the office, and promptly slipped and fell in a noxious pool of egg yolk. **CRACK** The trolls head hit the floor, and he saw stars and fetish masks float above him for a brief moment before his vision cleared.

Moments later he was up, on his feet, and surveying the damage ... it wasn't pretty.Not just a pool, not even a trail but a veritable river of the gooey, slippery, and rapidly congealing yellow muck coated the office.

Zalmar closed his eyes, and sighed.

"Light be wit' me mon...dis..dis be what happens when ya lets Gnomes and Goblins run a company? Dis can't keep on like dis...some'tin gots ta be done..."

Calling on the light once more, Zalmar sent waves of golden energy pulsing though the office. Magical eggyolk dissipated in the outpouring of sanctified light, and soon the whole building smelled of breakfast. Then, the troll sat down to write:


That deal we spoke of, I 'as de clients goods, recieved in Nort'rend from my contact. Da Big Moo said that we best be takin good care of dis little chick, he don' wan' nuttin untoward 'appenin to it. So I'll be wanting you ta get in touch wit' dem alliance folks, and make sure we git's da transfer done all proppah like. None of dis leavin it on de AH nonsense. Contact me whan ya ready to arrange a suitable time and place. An' one more t'ing, WHO'EVER BE DE ONE WHAT MADE DIS CHICKEN MESS GOT SOME 'SPLAININ TA DO!

In De Light
Brudda Zalmar
Edited by Zalmar on 2/23/2012 11:00 AM PST
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In De Light
Brudda Zalmar

Make it stop. I'll do anything. Deliver your packages. Wear your suit. Clean de damn office. Just make..the..singing...stop! Sure, dat t'ing was funny at first, but now mon, de singing, it's in my mind mon! Dat's some bad voodoo!

((I'd double check your employment contract, Zalmar...))
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90 Troll Priest
The lanky troll stared dumfounded at the telegram from D.K. (Henceforth known as Diabolica Kettleboss...)

Gnomes. Lightblasted, sawed off, overly edible (although that sort of thinking was a definite sin...), squeaky voiced, cat-sending GNOMES.

Zalmar sighed heavily, and went to get a mop and bucket, all the while humming a little tune....

o/~ any time anywhere...doo be too bee doooOooOo.... o/~
Edited by Zalmar on 2/23/2012 8:02 PM PST
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90 Troll Priest

Zalmar stared in thunderstruck awe at the small bottle of oily liquid in his hand. The deeper he gazed into his depth, the smaller his his point of focus seemed to become, it was as if his viewpoint was sinking deeper and deeper into a universe of inexplicably adorable..smallness.

This, this could....this could solve EVERYTHING. Earlier that day, Zalmar, had been experimenting with his concotions, and after one too many drinks of this new substance, something had happened. Something horrible, something wonderful, something strange....

Zalmar finally understood what is was to be...a gnome. This new oil he'd created had the ability to change him into a sweet, tiny, pigtailed, purple skirted, and utterly fabulous gnome female.

Diabolica Kettleboss would never see it coming.

The slightly-manic-but-still-immaculately-dressed troll giggled quietly to himself and took another swig. Leave HIM to clean up all the messes would they? Waste his Holy Powah with sweeping the offices and mending the parchments would they? Give him yet ANOTHER load of cats to deliver? HAH. There was gonna be a reckoning. A cute, giggling, adorable, perky, and above all, unexpected reckoning.

She'd never notice the voodoo mask, right?
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90 Goblin Shaman
Kezrin, not for the first time, wondered why she had joined the AAMS. Then she remembered, and sternly reminded herself that there were worse things…. maybe.

Herds of monstrous cats. Enchanted chickens. Slightly manic trolls humming cheery tunes.

Creepy undead mages who snuck up and tickled you...

It was a tough call.

She'd heard there was a curse on management positions, that no one lasted for more than a year. She was beginning to wonder how anyone lasted more than two months.

She was done with cats. Done with chickens. After that delivery to Terra Incognita, they'd had another delivery of chickens… this time to the Razortalons… with the instructions to deliver them in the same manner.

She had Myzzi had argued over it for hours, but a job was a job. They decided, at the very least, that they'd deliver it in person, so to give him some warning.

"We really shouldn't have done that last shipment," Kezrin lamented. "Now it's backfiring."

"Ya think I wanted to? But orders are orders."

Just then, Kezrin noticed Vinrah- the little monster Myzzi had decided to keep for herself- playing with the chicken cages, attempting to reach the bird inside. It was dangerously near the spare explosives.

"Hey! Cat!" she shouted. "Stop him-"

Kezrin dashed toward the cat, scaring him away. He knocked over the chicken cage, and-


"Kez!" Myzzi called in alarm.

When she woke up, Myzzi was sitting beside her with concern, a guilty look on her face.

"What happened?"

"You took a blast to the face. Don't worry, you only singed an eyebrow. Need a new uniform, though."

Kezrin looked around, and could see the evidence of the blast in the empty room. Empty?

"The…. delivery? Where are all the chickens?"

"Well, you were unconscious…. I couldn't leave you alone…. so I mailed it. I, err, adapted your letter." She paused, and added, "But I used my signature."

"Oh, no. Did he get it yet?"

Myzzi nodded.

"Are we doomed?"


... why did she join the AAMS again?
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