Gunther stared off into space as Shawnyboy began summoning his Black Magic Muskrats and preparing the plans for a massive assault on the factions of the Chickens. As Gunther's vision began to blur from the incredible amounts of blood that ran through his alcohol stream, an idea reared its ugly head. Gunther slowly brought a hand to his chin and scratched his chin with fierce concentration. He squinted slightly, allowing the thought to evolve in his mind and before long, the thought had become more than the usual cravings for another beer or cookie. The thought was now a full-fledged concept, an inquisition about the processes that keep the world running. Gunther was about to make a bold and unprecedented journey into the realm of logic.

The thought began to speak to Gunther. With sweet, melodic voices the thought began to educate the God of the Drunken Monkeys. "Hm," the thought seemed to say, "if some people refer to sex as 'getting lucky,' then do you get seven years of bad sex if you break a mirror? And how does it define bad sex? Could it be that you get lots of sex with really bad people, or do you get lots of really unsatisfying sex with really cute people? And how much bad sex do you get for walking under a ladder? Do black cats get bad sex if humans cross their path...?"

Gunther continued to massage his thought and comfort it with secondary thoughts. He even used examples and thought up scenarios that would help to explain his newfound friend further. Before long, he was remembering his experiences with the Queen of the Sheep and trying to remember if he had broken any mirrors, or if that whole escapade was just a bizarre energy flux that had happened in the deepest reaches of the universe. Then again, maybe it was just one beer to many. He tucked his thought away for later as a new thought began to grow in his mind. As this new thought grew and evolved, it urged Gunther to look at his companion and ally in the war against the Chickens. Shawnyboy looked at the dazed Gunther and cringed, "Oh dear, he's been thinking again." Shawnyboy was powerless to do anything except cringe at the feeling of impending doom that usually preceded Gunther's questions. Seconds later, the question was made public and even Shawnyboy was surprised to learn that he did not know the answer to Gunther's question of, "What the hell is a Thunderchicken?"

"Well, it's big and...Um...purple I think...and...Gee, I dunno." Shawnyboy sighed and realized that he had been entrapped in the quagmire that was Gunther's thought. Before long, their questions were put aside by another message that came from the vile Briac. The message was simply a restatement of the first, except that it stated that if the demands were not met within 48 hours, then he would have to cause serious harm to the headquarters of the Canadian Mounted Police. As the message began to fade from the viewscreen, Gunther allowed himself a quick giggle, and said, "He said 'mount,' cool."

After a half hour of trying to explain that a Thunderchicken was a bad thing, Shawnyboy finally gave up and resulted to the motivator that usually inspired Gunther to action. He simply told Gunther that they would have to blow it up, no matter what it was. Gunther smiled devilishly and informed the room that he felt it was their duty as sworn protectors of the cows that they would stop the chickens' latest attempt at world domination. "Gentlemen," he quietly stated, "I believe that this is a job for the army of the Drunken Monkeys."