DANCE OF THE LIVING DEAD CHICKENS.


(An unfinished masterpiece.)




(I just have a few lines done.


I'll keep you posted on my progress.)




"The chicken that looked like Hitler;


Looked just like him, but littler."




"Down at the hen house they hated his guts.


He didn't know why. It was drivin' him nuts!"




(You see,


the other chickens began to notice that they all looked the same,


so, in order to be individualists, they began making faces,


and doing other eccentric things, like dragging one leg,


and crossing an eye or two.


When humans do this it's called a fad, like purple hair,


nose rings, and low hanging baggy pants.


Chickens are a lot like people, only shorter.


The plot thickens




"Farmer Bob came out in the noonday heat,


saw the chickens makin' faces and draggin' their feet.


His brain went out to lunch and his body changed form,


and the Dance of the Living Dead Chickens was born."




"He combed his hair to one side, grew a little mustache,


scrunched his back up in a hump and let one foot drag.


He crossed one eye and let his tongue hang out.


The neighbors gathered round and they all began to shout


(EVERYBODY SING):


it's The Dance of the Living Dead Chickens,


The Dance of the...."


(repeat to fade out, or until somebody buys the record.)




Stop me before I write more of this!




Jack Blanchard




© 2001.