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Somewhere in Ohio – Factory Worker's Apartment
Tyler was on vacation visiting his parents for a few days.
During the day with nothing much to do, he'd log into Infinite Realms and play Death Race Battle Royale matches.
The game had become absolutely massive recently. All his coworkers and friends were playing. They'd team up together, but lately they'd been encountering increasingly skilled players, making wins genuinely difficult.
"Dammit, didn't eat chicken again!" Tyler groaned after barely making it to the final moments, only to get overtaken by someone's insane driving skills.
"Tyler! Dinner's ready!" his mom's voice called from outside his room.
"Coming, Mom!" Tyler responded, then told his squad over voice chat, "My mom's calling me for dinner. Logging off for now. We'll keep going after I eat. Whoever eats chicken tonight buys the next round of drinks!"
Tyler put down his controller, pulled off his VR headset, and headed out.
Immediately he smelled roasted chicken.
"Mom, we're not eating chicken AGAIN tonight, are we?" Tyler walked into the dining room with a pained expression.
He didn't know what was going on, but for the past two days his mom had been serving chicken for literally every meal. He was getting sick of it.
Before his mom could answer, Tyler had already entered the dining room. When he looked at the spread on the table, tears actually welled up in his eyes.
His mom had gone absolutely nuclear tonight. She'd prepared what could only be described as a "Chicken Feast of Biblical Proportions."
Roasted whole chicken, buffalo wings, chicken tenders, chicken tacos, chicken Caesar salad, fried chicken, chicken pot pie...
Tyler looked at his mom, genuinely on the verge of tears. "Mom, what did chickens ever do to you?"
"Didn't you say you wanted to eat chicken?" his mom asked, looking hurt.
"When did I say that? And even if I did, you can't serve it for EVERY meal! This is too much!"
"Well, I kept hearing you talking about ' chicken dinner, eating dinner,' and then you kept saying you DIDN'T eat chicken, so tonight I'm making sure you eat your fill!"
Tyler: "..."
Understanding dawned.
His mom had been overhearing him playing Battle Royale in his room and completely misunderstood what " chicken dinner" meant.
"Mom, that 'chicken' isn't THIS chicken!" Tyler said, both exasperated and amused.
"What kind of chicken is it then?" his mom asked, genuinely confused.
Tyler tried to think of how to explain. "It's... it's a gaming term. Like, uh, 'chicken' as in 'winner'?"
"How do you eat a winner?"
Tyler shared his experience in the Infinite Realms player community. It turned out he wasn't alone—tons of people had similar stories.
More and more players shared misunderstandings and jokes that had arisen from "eating chicken":
One woman thought "eating chicken" was code for her husband going out with his sketchy friends to visit strip clubs. She'd almost hired a private investigator to catch him in the act and take him to divorce court. Turned out he was just gaming with the boys.
A small restaurant owner kept hearing people talk about "eating chicken" and how it was "getting harder to eat chicken lately." He thought there was going to be a chicken shortage, so he immediately bought and hoarded massive quantities of chicken, waiting for prices to spike. Almost lost his shirt when he couldn't move the inventory.
With Death Race's popularity, videos flooded the internet—reviews, strategy guides, tactical breakdowns, trick shots, everything.
As more players joined and logged more hours, skilled experts emerged, developing increasingly creative playstyles and incredible techniques.
One master player never used weapons at all—dominated entire matches and won consistently through pure driving skill alone.
Another expert, whose kill count was dead last and being hunted by a missile, used his insane driving ability and map knowledge to juke the missile, forcing it to crash into a building. He survived with style.
Yet another player, also being chased by a missile, performed a perfect 180-degree drift, drove backwards, and used his vehicle-mounted machine gun to shoot down the incoming missile mid-flight. Escaped with a sliver of health remaining.
Data analysts created complex formulas and distribution models to calculate optimal resource gathering routes based on drop patterns and probability.
Of course, alongside hardcore skill showcases, countless noobs and comedians contributed hilariously absurd moments.
One player tried to replicate the "hide under the Dreadnought" tactic from career mode. But he forgot his car had just acquired roof-mounted rocket launchers, which exceeded the clearance height. He got stuck under the Dreadnought, scraping along the underside.
Sparks flew. The friction ignited the rocket ammunition. Both vehicles exploded in a massive fireball.
Nearby competitors typed respectful emotes: "o7 True hero. Sacrificed himself for our freedom."
Boston Apartment – Gaming Streamer
Jason "ScorchGaming" Foster was a full-time content creator.
Recently Death Race had blown up, so he'd pivoted his streams to focus on it. Battle Royale mode in particular was generating massive viewership numbers.
"Alright chat, today I'm unveiling my brand-new self-created strategy. This tactic is FOOLPROOF. Watch closely!" Jason announced confidently while loading into a match.
"Oh YEAH! Just grabbed another armor upgrade pack. This round is in the bag, baby! I'm a complete tank now—watch me dominate!" Jason was getting cocky.
"Scorch, your armor's way too heavy. You're losing speed!"
"Fuel consumption is crazy high too, watch your tank!" viewers warned in chat.
"Don't panic, this is part of my new strategy. Absolutely rock-solid. I'm deliberately keeping my average speed at second-to-last. Saves fuel AND prevents me from getting missile-locked!"
"If you can't move fast you're a sitting duck!"
"Yeah bro hurry up and get kills or your KD will be last place!" a viewer commented.
Right on cue, someone started shooting at Jason's heavily-armored car.
"Haha, tickling me? With my armor level, I could stand here and let him shoot for two minutes straight!" Jason said dismissively.
Indeed, the attacking car was quickly blown up by a rocket from a vehicle that came up from behind—and that car didn't even bother attacking Jason, just drove straight past.
"SEE? They saw my armor and got scared away. Smart kid. Otherwise I'd have made him waste all his ammo, haha! My kill count is also sitting pretty at second place. Absolutely stable!" Jason laughed triumphantly, continuing to cruise around searching for resources.
"Scorch, your kill count is LAST. Missile launches in one minute!" viewers warned in chat.
"WHAT?! WHEN DID THAT GUY PASS ME?!" Jason roared.
He saw someone's kill count was one ahead of his. He frantically searched for targets.
After finally taking down one car, he realized there were no other vehicles nearby. Being tied for last would still result in missile death.
"WHERE THE HELL IS EVERYONE?!" Jason yelled.
"Your car's too slow, you can't catch up!"
"Missile in 30 seconds!"
"Missile in 10 seconds..."
Jason held his breath, desperately scanning for opponents.
Finally, he spotted one.
Without hesitation he gunned it, engaging in a machine gun duel. Using his armor advantage, he secured the kill with half his health remaining.
"HAHAHAHA! That was SO close! Almost got kissed by a missile!" Jason laughed victoriously.
Then a missile streaked down from above and obliterated his car.
Jason stared at the screen in complete confusion. "WHAT THE HELL? My kill count isn't last anymore!"
Then he checked the average speed leaderboard. "Oh my GOD. Did I just kill the guy who was last in SPEED???"
Chat absolutely exploded:
"LMAOOOOOOO"
"THIS IS COMEDY GOLD"
"What happened to 'rock-solid strategy' bro"
"I'M DYING 💀💀💀"
"Please be kind to every last-place player!"
"Scorch just killed the one person keeping him alive I'M DEAD"
Jason sat in stunned silence for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Okay, okay, that strategy needs some work."
Plz THROW POWER STONES.