Chicken war. Also, did you know Chickens sounds cooler when you spell it as "Chiken"

I had a dream last night, and for those of you wondering, no I have not died. I'm still here, tripping over things, walking around with my fly down, etc.
So here it is, my nightmare.

We live in an apocalyptic world. A totalitarian government runs it all (Hehe, I see you Fox news.)
Our parents decide to take a trip to this place between Edmonton and Mexico. (Don't ask)
We take this public bus, and it's filled with people obsessed with chickens. Everyone has baskets of live chickens. So in fear that I will get my laptop stolen, I put in my bag. We arrive at this place and it's rustic as hell. We walk around, and there's nobody. Just barrels like those ones you see in movies. Not necessarily filled with anything, just there. Probably all the poop from the godang chickens everywhere.
Across the horizon is a town filled with chickens. I mean there is a frigen tornado of it. Beats sharknado any day. So we walk to our hotel room. (Now you must understand this chicken town is not safe). We hear a bunch of soldiers running from across some houses, and there is an elevator to the hotel. But some damn chickens are blocking it! So my dad shoves them chickens out and the elevator opens. We get to our room, and late at night we hear gunshots. Turns out there's a secret society that tries to get rid of any of the guests that come to chicken town. In short, the hotel owners were behind it, and some crazy way my dad and I managed to get our family back on the bus filled with chickens and survive. The end.


It taunts me.