"Courage ain't nothin' but the belief that you have it."
It's a Western because why not. But really it's all the same so it could be anything - an old 50's greaser tale, a modern dystopian, hell, even some way off in the future sci-fi. I've always liked Westerns though.
I imagine many of the writers of old stories spent their time, or just some time at least, around animals. Watching them. Seeing them day to day and routining their actions. Getting into their heads and into their thoughts (if they have those). I don't know. Maybe the old misers just gave them thoughts, but those animals definitely live out their stories. And they're rough and real, and there's no filter or etiquette and no rules. Nature's law reigns and the biggest and strongest and meanest always prevail.
That's why every story has a hero. That X factor. To raise up the weak and fight the status quo. He's from out of town (it's a small setting). He's Shane, he's the Man With No Name, or he's my personal favorite, Russell Crowe's Ben Wade.
Here's the players as I see them now before me in rooster form (their names will probably have to change):
There's Robert Redford. He's all salt and pepper so he looks older and maybe he is older. He's the black sheep and he's smaller. The other's pick on him, fuck with him, and try to separate him from his family because yes, he has (I think) the prettiest hen and a small flock of chicks.
Then there's Rex. He's the big red one. The head hauncho of the land, the big prick, the asshole. And he's got two bitch hens too.
There's also Reginald. He's the stupid French one with white spots on a black breast and a red neck. He's about as big as Robert, but younger and devious and conniving in his scheming. He's a loner, no hens, but when Rex is picking on Robert, so is Reginald. He's a weak mind and a coward. I fed him a couple times and then he'd crow everyday at our step expecting food pretentiously. That's Reginald. (Redford never crowed for food when we fed him; we mostly just feed the chicks now).
Finally, there's the outsiders, the out-of-towners, Mike and I. We're un-natural beasts among chickens. Mike likes to feed everyone, good or bad. He's across the board, and wants everyone to like him and trust him in the chicken kingdom. I try to bring some morality to a world without it, some balance. When the roosters pick on Rob, I run out and roust them and I feed the chickies because they're cute and I want them to grow up strong and I want the best for the Redfords.
It's the standard outsider tale, I guess. We come on a scene of injustice and out of, well, boredom sometimes we try to make things right as we see fit when we're around, and the Redfords are grateful and Rex is angry and vengeful eventually. We can't stay forever though so we try to give Robert the heart he forgot he had and the courage to stand up to Rex for his family. We make him a fighter, or at least try to, and hopefully he survives our departure.
