There are currently five bachelors living in my chicken coop. My coop is partitioned into two sections. The hens are living in the one half with a lucky dude, and the five bachelors are living in the other half awaiting re-homing. Every weekend I set them all up with food and water since I'm in church most all of Sunday. I got to them a little late Saturday night, so when I flicked on the coop lights, I found them all up on the roosts in their respective apartments, snuggled up to each other.... my sweet little family. I went about mixing their feed and filling their grain dispensers. Three of the hens dropped down off the roost to play, and their live-in rooster did too, deciding he would like a little nookie before bed. So he grabs the nearest hen and jumps on. In the bachelor apartment, one of the guys decides that he has something to say about this, so down he soars, making a fuss and trying to squeeze through the chicken wire partition. In a split second, another bachelor jumps down and launches an attack against the first one. Then the most dominant rooster of the bunch flies down and joins the fray. I turn to see the runt of the group fly down and launch into all three of them like a pro wrestler. The three scatter while the runt chased them around the area grabbing and jumping on in what looked like an attempt to mate. He grabbed a brother by the neck feathers, but was in turn grabbed by the most dominant rooster, and so I had a train of brawling roosters running around the apartment screaming like banshees. "Ah," I waved the tumult off. "They'll cool their jets soon enough." So I go back to dishing out feed. By now, the hot chick that started the whole mess is back up on the roost and ready for bed. But the brawl next door is only getting hotter by the second. Shortly, Chipmunk, the head honcho began wailing on the runt rather mercilessly, and the other roosters had ganged up on him as well. There's no chivalry in a gang fight, so I figured this was my time to step in. I walk into the bachelor pen and start pulling roosters apart like fresh tortillas. I plop them down on the roost one by one with a firm, "Goodnight!" "Goodnight!" "Goodnight" to each. They had been huddled ever so sweetly together up there not a minute before. It didn't take me long. I had caught and silenced all five of them in just seconds. At least, I think it was all five. It was difficult to see through the cloud of dust. But anyway, they all sat there, looking around. "Bok, bok-bok." They said. That's rooster speak. It translates: "Dude, what just happened?" "I dunno bro. I'm cool with you here, me?" "Yeah, bro. We're cool. G'night." "G'night." So they sit there all content like, in a loving mess of feather, quite obviously unsure why they had been trying to kill each other a moment earlier. It was clear that they were all very confused. It reminded me of those instances where cousins and siblings are duking it out until they forget why they're fighting. And the whole fight just looses all its steam. So I turned out the lights and walked off, thankful that no blood had been drawn. "Boys will be boys." I thought to myself.