The 'quick' story... The five of us (wife, 3 kids & me) were at a birthday party. The hosts of the party had a chicken coop, a rooster (which was theoretically locked away) and a yard full of kids.
My wife and I are inside talking to someone when all of the sudden a woman says, "Oh my Gawd! That girl's gonna get hurt!"
Knowing my daughters and the shear destruction that they can wreak, I excused myself and went to the doorway. There stood the two combatants, the 4 year-old Kathryn and a 2.5-foot tall rooster. I pushed my way through the door and, so as not to startle the rooster into doing something rash, I slowly descended the stairs.
Putting one hand in front of me, as if I were Luke Skywalker using the force, I said, "Honey... Step away from the chicken." As soon as I uttered these words my daughter assumed the famous Lou Ferigno stance from "The Incredible Hulk" TV show.
"Grrr!" she growled.
The rooster had had enough and he sprang into the air, his talons both raised and ready to sink into my baby's face. This is instinctual with birds. They go for the eyes. This chicken was going for my daughter's beautiful eyes. Birds, however, are not the only animals with instincts. Kathryn pulled back as the chicken struck causing two scratches on either side of her neck.
I scooped up my baby, estimated the rate of decent of the chicken and kicked. My foot connected with the chicken, launching it into the side of a nearby outbuilding. It bounced off and scurried away clucking curses in chickenese at my offspring and me.
I carried Kat back to the steps and set her on her feet. She was shaking and breathing heavy. Her scratches were superficial.
She looked at me and said, "Man, that's one evil chicken."
And that's how Evil Chicken came to be...