The chicken in red gloves feints, ducking a vicious right from his blue-gloved opponent. He feints again―too late. He's pecked, and squawks in alarm. Then, in a maneuver that shows he's got the stuff of a true prizefighter, Red presses in close and tucks his head up and under his opponent's breastplate, thereby gaining safety and buying time. He's smarter. But Blue is stronger. It's still any chicken's game.
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