No good conspiracy theory is complete without the statement that there is something “they” don’t want you to know. “They” are normally government agencies, large media groups or profiteers. But now I’m going to let you in on something so secret, so covert they will never tell you.. but I will.
Chickens are planning a total take over for complete domination. I know this because I am a foot soldier in the chicken revolution. I am so bold I don’t care who knows. If Homeland Security wants me–they know where to come get me. I’ll be hunkered down near a chicken coop with sawdust in my hair. Yes, I work for “them” and I’m nothing but a living, breathing, faithful chicken lover.
I didn’t start out this way. They recruited my grand daughter first. They always come after the kids. One of their operatives perched in her hand gently chirping and vibrating while she sat amazed on the floor of the local Grange. (By now I’m sure everyone knows those places are just fronts.) Then they hooked my daughter by pretending they needed her help and she can’t resist that. When they showed up at our house I thought they were just dumb birds. Wow. It’s hard to think I was that naive.
I resisted at first. I walked past them, helped out with food or water on occasion but I was not buying whatever they were selling. Then, keep in mind these guys are wily, they began sucking me in by standing on my lap or even chirping in my ear. Their stories began emerging about how they’d been pulled from their eggs and stuffed in boxes while being shipped in a truck across the state, many of them died. They did not see daylight their first few days of life. They played the whole insidious “I’m a helpless chicken” routine and I melted like butter.
They’ve got me working for hours every day on a marketing campaign and even when I try to stop, I can’t. That’s how effective their brainwashing campaign is.
Today they insisted on going to my grand daughters preschool to recruit more children. It worked.
Happy the dapper rooster and his Julliet, named Henny who is a brown feathered beauty with a red head and piercing eyes sat on each of the children’s hands and appeared entirely docile. One of the children who tried to break the spell of these clever creatures pointed out that she had chicken for dinner the night before and she thought they would scratch and peck her. But then recruit Kyra (my grand daughter) said sweetly, “Look at her–oh–she likes you” as she placed the small hen in the girls hands. It was over. The chicks had a total sweep on the preschool class and hooked at least two teachers into the revolution.
If you don’t believe me consider this: Cities and Counties across this nation are changing their rules so nearly every home could get a backyard chicken coop all at the urging of foot soldiers in the chicken revolution.
So now you may ask, what is it these chickens intend to do when they are in charge? First order of business will be to stop the practice of having egg layers so confined in cages full of birds that they lose toes and even feet to squeeze more of them in and many never experience walking freely. Next, they want to end the practice of taking these same birds and hacking them to death when they can no longer lay eggs. They also want to do away with rooster fighting and eventually see a chicken utopia where all farm animals are treated as living beings with feelings.
You can see how dangerous these chickens are, right? This kind of thinking could dismantle KFC and destroy the Egg McMuffin. We might do away with certain food born illnesses. Why would you want that?
Look, I’m out on a roosting bar..um, limb here by outing this plot and revolution. All it takes is one hen to fire up her computer (don’t let them fool you–they can type–it’s the hunt and peck method but they can make their way around a computer) and soon they’ll all know. It’s possible that tonight I could go home and be confronted by some seriously angry chickens.
Since I am a part of this revolution, why would I tell you? It’s just that I’m in so deep now I can’t get out. I’ve fallen in love with these guys and I’m a sucker for love. I’ll most likely never again be without a chicken somewhere in my home, my heart and my life…but never my gut. But it’s not too late for you. You could avoid the great grip of their charisma.
So I take this risk for you even though it’s not out of the realm of possibility that Rosey may turn her back to me and the others may hide in their nesting boxes. They’ll eventually forgive me and of course they won’t physically lay a beak on me…they’re not savages after-all…but they’ll be disappointed and drop their wings tragically by their sides as they cluck their dirge. But by tomorrow they will be back to being optimistic and friendly because that’s just how they are. Jeez…that’s why people think chickens are so dumb. Being loving in an unloving world; does that seem smart to you? Of course not.
I’m a goner now. But it’s not too late for you. Look away. Look away and don’t look back or you too could find yourself at the Grange spending your next check on organic chicken feed and sawdust.