I dreamt I had become the McElroy's go to Chicken Guy™. Like they would call me up whenever they had a chicken related question (which were apparently a lot) and usually they revolved around what crimes you could legally charge chickens with... like I was their no. 1 chicken expert. However we had only ever communicated through phone calls and text messages, never face to face. Except I had worked for them several times as a freelancer, creating merch for various McElroy Family shows, and sat through a lot of meetings with the brothers, but somehow they had never put two and two together.
Anyway, too much time had passed for me to casually mention that I was Chicken Guy™ and our merch meetings were becoming increasingly awkward as CG™ had become a fairly regularly part of mbmbm. So I decided to seek some advice from the experts, and got up to ask them a question during one of their live shows. They were surprised to see me at the microphone, but greeted me warmly and introduced me to the audience. And then I pose my question;
"I have a client who I love working for and get along with super well, but my meetings with them are getting increasingly awkward. Because they have somehow gotten hold of my private number and regularly contact me via that number for non-work related business. Worst part is that they, for whatever reason, think that I, their graphic designer and the guy on the phone are two completely separate people... How do I tell them that it's all just me?"
The brothers are losing their minds. Travis tells me that I just gotta come clean and open up to some honest communication that will bring me closer to this client, while Justin insist that I keep playing this sick power game I've somehow found myself in and see how far I can take it. Meanwhile Griffin is having a complete anxious meltdown over how I could let this situation spin this far out of control, and I swear I saw the soul leave his body when I told him this had been going on for close to a year. "HOW DO YOU SLEEP AT NIGHT??!" Eventually they got completely sidetracked as they started discussing the legality of the situation. Was it technically fraud bordering on identity theft? But how could it be a theft if the client was the one who had assigned me this secret alter ego? This was indeed a super dodgy situation, tethering on crooked unlawfulness and you know who else are crooked?
"CHICKENS!!" the audience scream in thunderous unison. A thousand cacophonous voices rising from the darkness, their vibrations shaking my bones and yet I do not hear them. I am broken out in a cold sweat because I know what comes next. Justin fishes out his phone, the beeping of the buttons as he punches in my number roars across the scene from speakers. It rings once, followed by the deafening anticipation of the audience. Travis says something to me, a reassurance I think, but I do not hear him. All I can focus on is the vibrations in my pocket. I pull out my phone as the dial tone fills the auditorium for the second time. I stare at the phone, seeing the all too familiar caller ID illuminate the screen. Griffin has noticed something is up by the third ring. I watch his face as realization strikes him, and I witness him go through all the stages of grief in a split second. He lingers on 'denial' just long enough to mouth an incredulous "no" in my direction, just before I lift the phone to my ear.
"Go for chicken!" the now iconic greeting that Chicken Guy™ is known for echoes over the speakers in my own voice, and I wake with a sudden start with veins filled with more adrenaline than blood. I know I woke up before the audience lost their collective shit, but I swear I could still feel the impact of their exclamation of disbelief against my skin.
