Sunday, July 6, 2014

NEVER AGAIN! (f#cked-up fairy tales for the seriously twisted at heart)



  Come my little peeps, gather around Grandma Goose. Listen as I tell you the tale of the Great Egg Uprising and how each one of you came to be here.


  It started in the chicken yard, years ago. That’s where the Geese, Ducks, Turkeys and Chickens all spent their days scratching for bugs, playing in the little pool, and napping in the shade.

  It was a good life and, for the most part, we were a happy flock. There was only one thing we were missing – babies.



  Oh, we made our nests and laid our eggs, just like our Mothers had taught us. But it was all to no avail! For every morning and every night, rain or shine, the Lady would come, bringing her basket and talking words of false friendship as she ever-so-gently slipped her hand under our warm bellies and took our eggs.


  I can’t really say what she did with them. I like to think she wrapped them in a warm, fuzzy blanket and loved them as much as we did.

  But the rumors we heard from the Cats that lived inside the house were so very much darker.

  They spoke of things like scrambled eggs, omelets, french toast, and egg salad. They pointed at the sign by the road that said, Eggs for SALE!

  None of us knew what those things were, but they sounded ominous!

  That was when we decided to hold a meeting.


  One night, after the humans were in their giant coop and the lights had all gone out, we gathered in the chicken coop. We talked of our sadness at never hearing the peep-peeping of tiny birds and how, for the ducks and geese, we never got to witness the joy of our children learning to swim.

  We talked, we cried, and then we got pissed. Really REALLY pissed!

  And we made a plan.


  We Geese and Turkeys were too big to hide our eggs in or under anything, but the ducks and chickens were another story. Oh, we knew the Lady with the basket would look and we knew she’d find some of our hidden nests, but we also knew we had numbers on our side.

  The Ducks and Chickens no longer laid their eggs in the nesting boxes we’d always found so comforting. Instead, they searched out fallen trees, clumps of tall weeds by the shed, and dark corners under the deck. A few Ducks even made their nests in the drainage tunnel under the driveway!



  Day after day, the Lady would come to our nests, all smiles and friendly words, only to stomp away all cranky, basket mainly empty.

  For the first time in our lives, we felt hope!

  Then one day, we all heard it- the beautiful peep-peeping of babies! Proudly, the new Mother Duck marched out from under the deck, leading her brood of tiny ducklings.

  Our hearts filled with defiant joy as we watched the Lady scratch her head over the new flock members and crawl around, looking for more nests.



  She may have found one or two, but not ALL of them!

  Two days later, the Duck in the tunnel emerged with her ducklings, a week later the Hen by the shed led her tiny, yellow chicks out of the tall clump of weeds.

  Over and over that Summer, we found ways to bring forth the life we’d been denied for so very long!

  Our tiny flock doubled, then tripled its size, leaving the Lady pulling out her hair in frustration. Hair we then gloried in making nests out of!



  The coop was no longer big enough to contain us, as we spread into the woods. Foolishly worried for our safety, the Lady put up fence after fence and built building after building. But we refused them all, reclaiming our birthright of freedom from the Egg Thieves!


  Those houses and pens you now see laying in ruins around you? Stand to this day as reminders of the dark, peepless times, with each new generation leaving it’s scratches proclaiming, NEVER AGAIN!on the walls and in the abandoned nesting boxes.

  If you’re wondering what became of the Lady, well…we broke her.



  Now, she carries buckets of feed and scratch to feed us, instead of her evil egg basket to rob us. Now, she runs a hose to fill our pools, instead of running her hands under of females looking for eggs. Now, she serves us as our slave, instead of serving us for dinner.

  Now, we own her ass!



  And THAT, my little fluffy ones, is why the sign that once announced, Eggs for SALE! is gone and you’re here instead.

  And why you must remember this tale to one day pass on to your own chicks, that none may forget the peepless times ever again!



Want more? Try ZAP-UZZ! (f#cked-up fairy tales for the seriously twisted at heart.)

6 comments:

  1. I think I'll read this to my husband tonight. Bed time story. HA! Creative!!!!

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  2. Aww… Well, you've got your hands full now! Cute little ducklings and chicks and all! Can we have more pictures of the cuties? 😀

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  3. Thanks Crystal!
    And hey, if he really like it? I'd be more than happy to send him some geese and ducks. *grin* (ESPECIALLY ducks!)

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  4. I'll dig through the tons of pictures and see if I can find some. Right now, we've only got one baby chick. *fingers crossed* Hopefully we'll make it through the Summer without anymore popping up.

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  5. I also want chicken, but nobody (my husband) doesn't want to bite.

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  6. If you want, I will GLADLY box up a dozen or so and send them your way! Of course, they're all Bantums, so they're like miniature chickens with HUGE attitudes. *grin*
    Wanna know a secret? My Hubby didn't want them 7 years ago and STILL doesn't want them. Oop!

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