An irritating clanking noise filled the ears of the drunken monkey God as he wobbled his way across the compound on his way to the war room. In his hand was a mug, almost overflowing with the intoxicated simian's favorite lunchtime beverage. Actually, the Lord of the drunken monkeys liked the beverage around breakfast time as well. Come to think of it, there was never a bad time for the quasi-diety's favorite beverage...a tall, frothy beer. As he turned down a corridor and crept ever so closer to the dreaded room, Gunther began to change. Within the course of a few steps, his robes began to turn green and dotted with various decorations of sorts. They became shorter and wrinkle free.

Finally, as Gunther turned into the corridor that led directly to his destination, he turned from a drunken monkey god, into Gunther, the 5 star general in charge of the drunken monkey army...with a beer still in hand. Gunther approached the room feared by all of his drunken minions and placed a hand on the handle. Upon opening the door, Gunther stood back and watched several members with empty mugs in hand dash through the open portal. As the last one dashed out, he stopped and thanked the General for allowing them to refill their mugs before the meeting started. That being over with, Gunther was free to enter the room and learn what was bothering the members of his staff.

He sauntered into the room and sat in the seat reserved for him at the head of a grand table that was perfect for plotting against the chickens, displaying terrain maps, and of course, drunken, naked twister. The General sipped his brew and fondly remembered many a game of drunken, naked twister. As he slipped into an unscheduled dream sequence, he was rudely awakened by his ally in the war against the chickens, Shawnyboy, the Great Muskrat Prophet and Ruler of All Squirrels. Without saying a word, Shawnyboy pointed to a screen and revealed to Gunther what he had feared all along...they needed to dust in a big way. The screens were filthy and were almost hidden beneath a venire of ucky dust. Gunther pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and reached for the screen. As the soft, beer stained cloth neared the dirty equipment, it came alive with the face of Briac, the Lord of the Chickens.

It was really a shame that Gunther was too drunk to understand all the things that Briac had to say. As the screen danced and flickered in front of Gunther, he began to wonder if there were any cookies in the war room. Hm, cookies, I could use a cookie right about now. How about you? Yes, cookies are happy. Anyway, as it turned out, Briac had been babbling about a list of demands and such related to his newest threat to the population of the world...the THUNDERCHICKEN. Once Gunther regained the ability to hear clearly, the thunderchicken story was relayed to him via the Great Muskrat Prophet and Ruler of all Squirrels. As Gunther sat and pondered what exactly a thunderchicken might possibly be, he began to experience that craving for cookies again, and perhaps another beer. Yes, another beer would be quite nice right about now. Let's stop for the week and go get a cookie and beer, shall we?