I read a really funny fic from HalfshellVenus1, so I decided to add to them and make different responses. Just wanted to give credit to whoever the original idea came from, so here it is!

Michael: No one knows what that chicken suffered on the side of the road, or what it sacrificed to cross the road.

Lincoln: The road was okay, then the chicken crossed it and all heck broke loose. Now there's all this traffic and the road just needs an Aspirin.

Sara: That chicken could have died crossing the road. It needs to be more careful.

Sucre: That chicken is absolutely loco, but I'll help him anyway.

Sucre 2.0 (McGrady): That chicken better be able to talk basketball, because if he wants any favors...

Haywire: That chicken is leading us on a path! He's going to end the world!

C-Note: If that chicken goes to the Middle East, I'll give him 2 days, tops.

Abruzzi: If that chicken is handcuffed to someone I hate, tell them both to run. And to watch their toes.

Tweener: Ima make that chicken my friend, and then rat him out to KFC and eat him for lunch.

Bellick: That chicken won't be crossin' roads for long if he's a con.

T-Bag: If that certain pretty chicken don't cross the road soon, we'll have a barbecue a-plenty in the morning.

Veronica: I'll stand by that chicken and his brother until the three of us go into the slaughterhouse.

Nick Savrrin: I'll help the chicken until a good deal comes along, then it might just end up on my dinner plate.

Kellerman: Oh, the chicken double-crossed you too? I still hate you, but I'll help you one time. Oh yeah, and by the way, can you give me that 2.5 million dollar device? Thanks...

Mahone: If I chase that chicken for a while and then find him, he may just end up a few feet under my backyard.

Mike: I could draw a picture map for the chicken to help him get across...

LJ: It's a hen?! Let me see!

Westmoreland: I wasn't ever that chicken, but I know where its nest is...

Pope: I'll help that chicken get to be his best self, especially if he can build a Taj Mahal out of popsicle sticks...

Whistler: That chicken needs to come hide out with me in my basement sewer fortress for a while. Maybe that's a bad idea, because everyone else in this rat hole of a prison can smell chicken from a mile away...

Sofia: That chicken hid his nest from me. I need a new chicken...

Ja: If that chicken touches my phone, or Freddie's ashes, he's dead meat. Literally.

Whip: To get to the other side.