Ginger and the gang of chickens were in their farm, minding their own business, which really wasn't a lot since all they were to do was to eat corn that came from Iowa that was picked from people who more than likely didn't know anybody who was on the NBA because they didn't have any television because the governor believed that if they had the TV on for too long, they would begin to get ideas on how to overcome capitalism and bring in socialism, an idea that had more sex appeal than a bag of cheetos that was left in your car trunk for at least three hours after stopping in Phoenix, Arizona because you were initially trying to get to Seattle.
"Girls, we gotta get out of here!" said Ginger as she was so scared after what she heard Mrs. Tweedy make them into chicken breasts to sell to the people in a nearby town.
"Mrs. Tweedy is going to label as Fantastic Chicken Breasts," said Babs as she began to knit a bikini. "We should figure out how to get out of here!"
"I can help!" said a person who was about the same height as them.