Why did the chicken cross the road?

[kiril.zh]

Why?

[MzCatieB]

cause dem boots where made for walking

[Dudenstein]

To get to the other side (committing suicide)

[Lyons]

[JaeDee884]

I saw the thumbnail, and before i clicked it, i thought to myself, is this a Vsauce video.

[LinusTech]

I always assumed there was a trail of candy that led across the road...

 

[Wasabay]

he was trying to find cow and go home to mom and dad 

[Vector]

To get to lanfest

[Purple]

Probably running away from KFC

[everything count to life]

To prove to people that chickens can cross roads

[tabuburn]

To get to NCIX for the new NVIDIA graphics cards that have been coming out.

[randomB3A4]

because the sidewalk is always greener on the other side

[TRCornishboy]

To find out if he or the egg did indeed come first.

[joelthezombie15]

I just let him cross, i dont ask questions what the chicken does is her own business. 

[eslagrassa]

because there was a titan across the road

[XiaoPigs]

Cause there was foul play. 

[HeathCliff]

Well, you first gotta understand that this chicken had a hard childhood. His father left when he had yet to hatch. His mother looked after him for a few years, but she was a druggie and didn't do that great a job. Eventually she sold him into slavery in exchange for a hit.

For a few years he worked as a slave laborer on a farm just north of the border. The man who owned the farm was about as cruel and sadistic as they get, but to all outward appearances he was the model of virtue and a pillar of the community, so nobody suspected that he had seventy slave chickens working for him.

Eventually this chicken snapped and murdered the farm owner by pecking open his jugular vein. He left the farm. Shortly after the owner’s family found out who killed him and put up a one million dollar bounty, payable to whoever found, tortured and killed the chicken. Fearing for his life, the chicken headed up north.

He fell in with the chicken mafia, and worked as a hitchicken and general muscle for a few years. He slowly earned enough money to rent a house and get established, although he had to keep his head down to avoid getting noticed. He met a nice hen, and they started dating.

Now, the chicken was getting tired of killing other chickens for a living. He’d been attending classes part time, and had been told by his teachers that he was real smart. They wanted to give him a scholarship to go to college overseas, even.

That never worked out, however. The chicken’s girlfriend got pregnant, and he decided to stay in the country to care for the resulting chicks. He tried to quit the mafia. His bosses were not very pleased about his decision, and told him it would be a shame if anything bad happened to his family. The chicken bought a strong lock for his apartment, although he still constantly worried about his family. The chicken got a job in an office. It was mind-numbingly boring, but it paid the bills and didn't involve killing anyone.

Two years later the chicken got two strokes of bad luck. Firstly, the company was going through hard times and had decided to lay him off. Secondly, he had developed severe respiratory problems; the doctor said it had something to do with exposure to agricultural chemicals from his days as a slave. When he went home to tell his wife the bad news, he found she wasn't there. She had taken the children and left to be with another chicken.

Well, the chicken went out and got good and drunk that night. He was standing outside a bar, watching the cars streak across the nearby highway, when he thought that it would be good to die. He didn't have much to live for, and his life insurance policy would help his kids more than he ever could now. His death had to look like an accident, though.

 

The highway! That was it! He would get run over, and be “accidentally” killed.

 

The chicken staggered out over the road, trying to position himself in front of the largest vehicle possible. They swerved around him, furiously honking their horns and yelling obscenities at him. The chicken staggered on, and before he realized it he’d crossed the road and had reached the other side.

The chicken still wasn't dead, however. He slumped to the ground, weeping bitter tears.


...why? Because I can :D

[mozoa]

I always assumed there was a trail of candy that led across the road...

 

Linking to funnyjunk didn't work out like it is supposed to huh?

[SatansHollow]

because it was stuck on a perverted cockerel

[AirFie]

because chicken have to do it.

[Lukiose]

I like Vsauce's darker interpretation of the whole thing.

The chicken crossed the road to 'get to the other side(Realm of the non-living)' for it is sick and tired of life.

[AvoK95]

The chicken crossed the road to get to the other side, meaning to get to the other side in life, which is death so it crossed the road to kill itself since it saw its siblings and its own kind being killed and eaten by man :)

[WindyDays]

http://www.wolframalpha.com/input/?i=Why+did+the+chicken+cross+the+road

[Thibaudv]

because the banana ate the monkey

[Tranquility]

Well, you first gotta understand that this chicken had a hard childhood. His father left when he had yet to hatch. His mother looked after him for a few years, but she was a druggie and didn’t do that great a job.

Eventually she sold him into slavery in exchange for a hit.

For a few years he worked as a slave laborer on a farm just north of the border. The man who owned the farm was about as cruel and sadistic as they get, but to all outward appearances he was the model of virtue and a pillar of the community, so nobody suspected that he had seventy slave chickens working for him.

Eventually this chicken snapped and murdered the farm owner by pecking open his jugular vein. He left the farm. Shortly after the owner’s family found out who killed him and put up a one million dollar bounty, payable to whoever found, tortured and killed the chicken. Fearing for his life, the chicken headed up north.

He fell in with the chicken mafia, and worked as a hitchicken and general muscle for a few years. He slowly earned enough money to rent a house and get established, although he had to keep his head down to avoid getting noticed. He met a nice hen, and they started dating.

Now, the chicken was getting tired of killing other chickens for a living. He’d been attending classes part time, and had been told by his teachers that he was real smart. They wanted to give him a scholarship to go to college overseas, even.

That never worked out, however. The chicken’s girlfriend got pregnant, and he decided to stay in the country to care for the resulting chicks. He tried to quit the mafia. His bosses were not very pleased about his decision, and told him it would be a shame if anything bad happened to his family. The chicken bought a strong lock for his apartment, although he still constantly worried about his family. The chicken got a job in an office. It was mind-numbingly boring, but it paid the bills and didn’t involve killing anyone.

Two years later the chicken got two strokes of bad luck. Firstly, the company was going through hard times and had decided to lay him off. Secondly, he had developed severe respiratory problems; the doctor said it had something to do with exposure to agricultural chemicals from his days as a slave. When he went home to tell his wife the bad news, he found she wasn’t there. She had taken the children and left to be with another chicken.

Well, the chicken went out and got good and drunk that night. He was standing outside a bar, watching the cars streak across the nearby highway, when he thought that it would be good to die. He didn’t have much to live for, and his life insurance policy would help his kids more than he ever could now. His death had to look like an accident, though.

The highway! That was it! He would get run over, and be “accidentally” killed.

The chicken staggered out over the road, trying to position himself in front of the largest vehicle possible. They swerved around him, furiously honking their horns and yelling obscenities at him. The chicken staggered on, and before he realized it he’d crossed the road and had reached the other side.

The chicken still wasn’t dead, however. He slumped to the ground, weeping bitter tears.

...why? Because I can :D

YOU ARE SO LUCKY.

 

I would have cried if that chicken died.