Backstory

After the Misguided Missile, the flock’s engineering department held a meeting. The minutes of that meeting, which have been classified and then unclassified by accident, contain exactly one sentence: “what if we made it bigger and did not fix the aim.” The Megamissile is the result. It is twice the size. It is twice the boom. It is, the farm’s radar operator will tell you with the dead eyes of a witness, twice the aim error.

Its sense of direction is a felony. In a fair legal system, the Megamissile would be charged with reckless navigation, aggravated wrong-turns and at least one incident involving a windmill. It launches with the confidence of something that knows exactly where it is going, which is untrue in every sense, and it maintains that confidence until the moment it arrives somewhere else entirely and detonates.

The blast radius is the real problem. The Megamissile does not need to hit you to hurt you — it needs to miss you in the wrong direction. Keep fragile towers off its flight line, spread the board out, and let it do what it does best: miss, explode, and take a regrettable amount of its own flock with it.