Sure, I've got a few feathers, who hasn't these days? Maybe I do like pecking wheat and clucking in tune with the other hens when Nos starts crowing in the middle of night screaming out for eggs. But I'm no chicken, I'll tell you that. I'm prudent and safety conscious. I wear a hazard jacket and hard hat when scratching about in the hen house. It pays to be safety conscious when you know there are stalkers about. What's stalk for the goose is stalk for the gander - or something like that.
The truth is I'm just staying in the hen house for a few days until those nasty stalkers go away. I'm protecting the chickens and not getting paid so I wish Nos would stop yelling out that I'm a chicken and I should come out of the hen house and face up to them stalkers. As far as I'm concerned he can face up to them by himself because I'm busy counting eggs and trying to get use to the smell. I don't get paid danger money and besides that some chickens say interesting things like 'watch out for the fox,' or 'move your big brown butt off my nest.' Things can pretty interesting in the hen house and I'm not coming out until it's safe. So there.
Hi newsguy,
ReplyDeleteI feel so sorry for you and the situations that you get in. I know it's not your fault, you're a good chicken with a heart of gold - I can just tell.
You'll remember that night we met at Counterspin, I didn't mean to hiss at you because I was, well, well overcome by seeing such a tender thigh over the top of your gumboots. Real men these days, what's happened to them newsguy? I feel sad when I think about the old days when a bloke would just cop a quick feel without thinking about it. I haven't had that feeling for years, but when I saw you in your gumboots and chicken suit something stirred in me newsguy. I was all overcome and crinkly in my crinkly bits. It was such fun to have those feelings.
If I might be so forward to say, I've thought about you a lot since that night, and followed your adventures with interest. But I'd be lying if I didn't say you lit a fire in my heart, a quenching desire to touch your big beak and stroke your feather wig. I don't know what I'll do if you reject me for another, I quiver at the thought - barely able to keep my false teeth in place.
I do hope to hear from you soon, even if it's just to hear you cluck goodbye.
Yours, so very truly
Adeline S Desperate.