Chapter Text
I'm that first rooster they talk about in all the books
I'm that perspective you cannot doubt, see how I look
Control the narrative reliably, baby, it's all about me
And I wrote the book about throwing the book
At those who don't do it by it
So now I'm holding myself hostage
Stockholm lust just looks like justice
And enough lefts don't make the right but two wrongs do
• ─────── 🐓 ─────── •
A couple of days had passed since the trial, and Foghorn Leghorn was not happy. I say, I say, who would be after that disastrous hearing and the public humiliation he suffered at the hands of a mangy dog?
Foghorn Leghorn sighed; for the first time in years, he felt the sensation of fear. It was stupid to think that just one case (which got dismissed anyway) would shatter his reputation and his business. A business that had taken him years to bring to this point.
And yet... he felt a knot in his throat.
I say, I say, was it possible that a mangy dog and his tiny, fourth rate lawyer could bring down his empire? If that happened... what would become of him? Would he have to go back to the... farm? He couldn't allow that!
He didn't care much about the legal trouble; he had used several cartoons as test subjects for years. All he had to do was drop a few bills and bam! he was an innocent, multimillionaire little rooster.
The problem wasn't the legal front. Despite being a cartoon, he had enough money to buy power; the absolute worst that could happen to him was ending up in prison for five years at most in a nice, comfortable cell. I say, the real little problem was the public trial.
I say, I say, if people kept making noise, there would be folks wanting to investigate further; there would be annoying journalists picking at his poor company; there would be even more annoying cartoons suing him. Over time, the mighty ACME Corporation would be reduced to a junk shop. He couldn't allow that!
But how could he save his company? I say, I say, how could he save himself?
The only way was for that very same mangy dog who got them into this mess to walk onto public television with a sign saying: 'ACME is the best brand.' But even that mangy dog had a shred of brains.
Foghorn Leghorn sighed again... he needed a way to get that damned mangy dog on his side.
That was when, literally, a tiny lightbulb lit up right above his head while a mischievous grin spread across his beak.
I say, I say, he knew someone who could pull off something like that