By the time you see it... it's already too late. Looming high overhead, the four-faced fowl struck terror in all who passed through it's shadow.
Erected at the end of the Civil War, Old Main was capped with an Angry Chicken to keep an ever watchful eye to the South, and guard against post-war invasion. As one of the North's southern-most strongholds, Old Main might well have been a target for uppity confederates who still had the war-bug firmly lodged in the lowest regions of their digestive system if it weren't for the Angry Chicken. Many
a southern militiamen were slain at the tip of the Chicken's beak. As the North conceded that the South was no longer a threat, and that they made some bang'n iced tea, Old Main and it's Angry Chicken dome-piece were without purpose. The Chicken spent some time as a lighthouse before ultimately realizing there was no need for a lighthouse in a landlocked state. Old Main failed miserably as a co-ed housing complex (and to this day still only houses female occupants). Things were looking pretty flocked up for the Angry Chicken when, on a foggy Spring day, a rogue zeppelin filled with Germans fleeing the economic sinkhole of post-WWI Germany crashed into the feathered pinnacle and burst into flames. The event is known historically as the Hindenburg Disaster. Several enterprising survivors of the crash made quick work of invading the surrounding area and founded what is now known as Kutztown which loosely translated means "we're taking over your town you dumb punk-asses." After founding Kutztown, the Zeppelin survivors set out to erect a schule to educate the town folk of all that was good and proper. After much debate and two blitzkriegs, they decided Old Main and it's formidable Chicken copula was the perfect place to found a school. The school quickly grew in popularity, attracting prospective students from all around who also wanted to learn about all that was good and proper. Eventually die schule became known as Kutztown University. To this day Old Main and the Angry Chicken still stand on campus. Old Main serves as a confused labyrinth of college classrooms filled with elementary school desks where little is learned, but much is pondered. The upper floors house some of Kutztown's finest biddies and lasses, all eager for the day they are released from the convent halls. The Angry Chicken no longer keeps a watchful eye to the South, but rather pays audience to the daily, morning sun-basked walks of shame, and the nightly extremeness of Kutztown's most prominent bro-hives. No student walks the streets of Kutztown without the ever-so-bothered sense that the Angry Chicken is watching over them and does not like a bit of what it sees.
