Kickass and the chickens

Kickass, the doorstop dog, says the keeper, having survived the eggs-will-kill-you era of a few decades ago, long ago reverted to a two-egg breakfast with the usual accoutrements.  This has caused him to revise his attitude toward chickens from indifference to appreciation and even compassion.  His egg source is the flock out at Mary and Jerry’s on the edge of town, where he frequently stops for brief chats with the hens as they cruise the large chicken yard and seem to cluck back at him..

Mary announced recently that it was time to butcher some of the hens and asked the keeper if he would be interested in some of the dressed carcasses for roasting purposes.  The keeper said he would indeed be interested, disregarding completely the anthropomorphic nonsense between him and his breakfast egg-providers and reasserting his location on the top of the food chain.

In the broad uptake this would constitute biting (into) the hand that feeds you, but there is that biological food-chain stuff that seems to make it okay.  Forever groping for wider application of his incisive epiphanies, the keeper says we are all chickens in the White House coop with Colonel Sanders in charge and we will lay eggs for him to scramble after which we will all end up roasted.  (Is there no damn brain chain?)




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