Chickens! That what the farmers want to gather, but they don't when the hens come home. For the foxes follow them, and Satan in their wake, bringing copious slices of pizza in his bag of no particular colour. The pizza, oh the pizza! Ham and treacle pizza padded with honey soaked bread rolls. But what does Satan think? He knows, oh he knows. But what does he know? Who knows? Riddles and mysteries, he's killed fools throughout history! I piddled on his bits you see, it trickled and he got sick and flee'd, he kissed my tool and I bricked him in his sleep! But that is enough about poor old Satan, let's get back to the important matters. The chickens, of course. You fool, you forgot the chickens! Now they have escaped and gone forth into the world to spread the word of their mad god Poster-Pamphlet. Doom comes, my friends, doom comes swiftly. For the Bible clearly states that the chickens shall inherit the Earth, and now it is coming to pass! History is over, my friends, history is over. What madness will tomorrow bring? Who knows as the chicken god sings of disgusting demonic things, flapping his fingered wings which to spring rolls do cling.
Enough of this madness! Enough!
More tomorrow.
Perhaps.
