The Hen Peckers

[S|N]

The Hen Peckers didn’t stumble into the streets. We hatched in lock-ups.

Prison was our incubator. Long days and longer nights taught us patience, cunning, and how to survive when the odds were against us. While others broke, we grew sharper, tougher, relentless.

When the gates finally opened we stepped out as a flock.

The streets didn’t give us anything. We hustled and pecked our way up. Every job is done with precision. The world sneers at the weak, so we learned to laugh last.

Then came the masks. The rubber chicken masks.

Not a gag, not a joke. A calling card. They mock the system, taunt our rivals, and warn that chaos doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it pecks quietly before it lands the first hit. You see that mask staring at you, and by the time you blink, it’s too late.

We don’t crow for attention. We don’t strut for glory. We peck with focus and determination. Loyalty is sacred. Betrayal is deadly. Once you’re in, you’re in for life or until you get plucked.

We came from nothing.

We survived the cages.

We aren’t heroes.
We aren’t victims.
We are The Hen Peckers.