Your three words, my little story
Tim’s words: chicken, beak and olive
It was Saturday morning and it wasn’t his kids that woke him, it was the rooster. It seems that the egg beater got louder and louder every week. If he had known that hens didn’t need a rooster to lay eggs, he wouldn’t have bought the noisy critter. The kids named him, The Rowdy Rooster, or he would have been gone a long time ago.
As he struggled to hop out of the bed he heard the faint sound of, The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show coming from downstairs. Next is Popeye the sailor and his girl OLIVE Oyl. This reminded him of his childhood favorites Jonny Quest and The Road Runner
As he fed the chickens he knew which CHICKEN was going to do the headless dance later that afternoon, so he tried not look at it.
For weeks he’s been listening to band called BEAK and hasn’t figured out if he likes them or not. Their music is surely upbeat, but maybe a little too electronic for him. Lately though, when it’s time to pick a chicken for dinner he plays their song, The Meader and that seems to put him in the mood for the beheading.
2 thoughts on “Your three words, my little story: Tim’s words”
Yeah, my grandmother did that up on the hill in the strawberry patch once. I was younger than ten and it freaked me out for years.
My exs mom was terrified of chicken because of how they’d rob around after the head was cut off lol po Thang