In the white room, pristine like porcelain,
Layed among the others.
The rattle of lead on lead
This one,
has a purpose

Sliding into the chamber
Being pushed by the action
Concealed in the night of the tube holding it captive.
Light shining from the front
Aimed at the target.

Then,
Click
Air pushes the pellet with forces of a hurricane.
The all too familiar outline of the chicken approaches
Facing the little sucker head on.
The lead pellet smashes into the orange hue of the chicken,
Flat from what it once was

Dropping to the immaculate floor
Right before you hear the metal chicken make the satisfactory
Ping with the floor
Hit.