So I was supposed to write a plot for a story including myself, fried chicken, a robber, a runaway train and a bag of priceless jewels. I had some time and decided to write a longer story, though about halfway through I decided it was getting too long and started to cut it shorter. I might extend it someday, but I spent only about an hour on it as of now. Here it is:

Hello. My name is John Doe, and I work for the Secret Service. I’ve had to remove some sensitive information, but I have attempted to keep the story undiminished. It is filed [REDACTED], or The Fried-Chicken Runaway Train Robbery. We called it Operation Popcorn. Don’t bother to ask questions because I probably can’t answer them.

It was a hot day in [REDACTED], and I was given the task to arrange for a bag of priceless jewels to get from Washington D.C. to [REDACTED] for the mayor. “The mayor promised to show these at [REDACTED] in three days,” I was told by [REDACTED], my boss. “Many people could have political reasons to prevent their arrival, if the fact that they are expensive isn’t reason enough for most people anyway.”

I decided the train was the best way for the jewels to travel. It was unlikely, arousing the least suspicion. I had a friend named [REDACTED] who worked undercover, and I thought he would be a suitable candidate to carry the jewels, code-named “Kernel”, to their destination. We coded him “Kettle.” I had my assistant Joe Smith instruct him. We didn’t want to blow Kettle’s cover, so for an extra layer of protection I asked a coworker (coded “Fingers”) who was a skilled pickpocket to deliver the kernel to the train station, where he would meet Kettle and deposit them in his pocket. While Kettle carried the kernel on the train, Fingers would fly to the destination in time to retrieve the kernel from Kettle and deliver them to the mayor’s lawyer’s secretary, who would deliver them to the mayor. Naturally we also placed a GPS tracker in the bag. I would monitor the GPS location throughout the operation.

On [REDACTED], [REDACTED], Operation Popcorn commenced. Everything went without a hitch until the train crashed.

At 2 hours 47 minutes and 28 seconds into the operation, I noticed the GPS location movement velocity considerably accelerate suddenly. Soon afterward I received a call from Kettle that confirmed my reading. The train had suddenly sped up for no good reason. As I spoke to Kettle, I suddenly heard a thunk. Kettle informed me that the power had gone out. Then I heard a crack, and the phone hung up.

From then until time +2:59:50, the GPS coordinates continued along the railroad track. Then they made a sudden lurch to the side and stopped. So did our train tracker. The train had been derailed, but the kernel was still there and seemed to be unmoved. Standing up, I called for a helicopter, reported to my boss, called Fingers to update him on developments and collected the things I might need.

When the helicopter arrived I boarded and we quickly flew to the site of the wreck. I knew that if something had happened on purpose and someone was trying to find the kernel, they hadn’t found it. I knew that if it had been me in their place, I would wait for someone to try to recover it. I didn’t have a choice, however. I had to find it. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t take precautions. I told the pilot to cover me with his rifle and moved cautiously toward the tracker. I got into the door of the train, went into the cabin Kettle had been in, and noticed Kettle wasn’t there. I was able to trace the tracker signal to its hiding place in the [REDACTED], grabbed it, and bolted back to the helicopter. Inside the bag I found everything there. I handed it to the pilot and told him not to take any risks and to take off if anything happened. Then I went back to find Kettle. The search took some time, but just when I was sure he was MIA, I found him unconscious in the engine room. I carried him back to the helicopter and was lifting him to the pilot when the shots rang out.

I couldn’t get into the helicopter without the pilot’s help, so I ran back under cover and reached for my gun, searching for the source of the sound.

I should probably mention that my gun doesn’t shoot bullets. It shoots electricity, and I use it like a taser.

So I was hiding from whomever was shooting. They shot again, and I saw the movement behind a boulder. I shot my gun, but he was well hidden. Suddenly I saw something I have not seen before or since! A flying chicken! Flying overhead like… a bird that can fly! As it got closer, I had an idea. As it flew over the boulder my unknown enemy lurked behind, I programmed my gun to Lasting Strike and aimed up. I fried that chicken. It plummeted down right smack on top of the guy behind the boulder and tased him as well. I carefully went over to the boulder and carried him back to the helicopter. When I returned for the chicken, it had disappeared.

We took the helicopter first to the hospital and dropped Kettle off in the ER. We then beelined to the mayor’s office and I parachuted down with the kernel, only one mere hour before it was needed. The police, after searching the wreck site, determined that someone had overpowered the pilot of the train, cut off the power, hit Kettle over the head, moved him to the engine room where they hoped nobody would notice him for some time and failed to find the jewels. That’s when he bailed out to wait for me.

That is the story of the Fried-Chicken Runaway Train Robbery: How we delivered the jewels, kept everyone alive (except possibly the chicken) and arrested the thief.