"What the f-" Jr. barely had time to react before the chocobo trampled his face.

In the haze of dust and feathers, all he could do was lie there in pain and shock, a huge chickenfoot print now visible in bright red on his face. At Ruby's question, he merely grunted and forced himself to his feet, where he checked to make sure he was still clutching his guns. There was a new fire in his eyes, and it was obvious that he was done kidding around.

"All bets are off. Let's go. We're having chicken for dinner tonight."