Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, welcome to the psychedelic event that’s got the entire multiverse buzzing! Put those tentacles together and give a warm welcome to the Super Fried Fight Club, where the clucks collide and only the fiercest fowls survive! I’m your announcer, and tonight, we have a main event for the books!

In the red corner, coming to us with a record of 10 wins and 16 losses, don’t let the past deceive you, for beneath the feathery exterior of this bone-rattling poultry lurks a darkness that strikes fear into the hearts of roosters across the land. Give it up for the poet of pain, the master of misery, Edgar Allan POck!

And in the blue corner, sporting an impressive record of 34 wins and 44 losses, the legendary brawler with the baddest beak around! The king of all things spicy, crispy, and oh-so-delightful, it’s none other than The Hella Fried Chicken!

The air, electric with anticipation, pulses as the fight erupts in all its chaotic glory. From the get-go, Edgar Allan POck sends fiery waves cascading through the crowd as he summons forth a blazing-hot vortex from Bob’s Burninator. The Hella Fried Chicken is helplessly dragged into the inferno, squawking and bug-eyed as it contends with the fires licking at its feathers.

But as we all know, the gritty and greasy Hella Fried Chicken won’t be battered that easily. Blood dripping from its burning nozzle, the feathered warrior mounts a triumphant return, blasting Edgar Allan POck with a cataclysmic explosion of raw, untamed energy.

The arena teeters on the edge of pandemonium as Edgar Allan POck, reeling from the impact, delivers a vicious elbow strike to The Hella Fried Chicken’s temple. This bird-on-bird violence leaves a gory laceration, sending blood arcing through the air.

The final moments of this wild fracas cement themselves into the annals of history as Edgar Allan POck, triumphant, wounded, but unbowed, seizes victory by the talons and dominates the bitchass of The Hella Fried Chicken! The crowd erupts into a cacophony of cheers, feathers, and exclamations of disbelief. For on this fateful day, the prophecy was foretold, the stories will be recited, and birdkind will forever whisper the name of Edgar Allan POck, the master of mayhem!