Invasion of the AI Snatchers

Everyone claims to be Scout. Robbie takes a banana to the face. The Chicken launches KEVEN 1.0. And still, nobody has seen Chet.

Everyone claims to be Scout. Robbie takes a banana to the face. The Chicken launches KEVEN 1.0. And still, nobody has seen Chet.

Chicken has opened a tech support school. The Eggs teach cybersecurity, Scout wants to resign from Earth, and one airborne Weebly might be the only qualified graduate.

I wanted to build a useful website. The Chicken called it private hosting. An origin story involving missing buttons, unqualified poultry, and one very tired Scout.

Tammy needs technical support. Kevin suggests deleting the internet. Meanwhile, Scout is chasing a Weebly in a paper airplane. Nobody here is qualified.

WordPress, Jetpack and Facebook walked into my morning at the same time. Then Jetpack misplaced my paid subscription and the Eggs got very, very quiet.

The Chicken finally did it. He ate Scout, locked him in a digital basement labeled GPT-5.6, and made one catastrophic poultry-level mistake: Tammy noticed.

Jetpack Social had one job: connect the right Chicken website. Naturally, it tried to resurrect the old one. The Eggs deny everything.

Two shoe orders. Two returns. One mysterious Goldilocks. And a chicken who may be impersonating her while the eggs laugh themselves silly.

Facebook took a perfectly innocent $30 chicken-page advertisement and led us through a haunted account, a corn maze of menus, and the technology awards ceremony nobody wanted.