But my father's on his way with his knife. The rooster must go tonight. He's crowing as I type, and it's embarrassing. I'm surprised at how embarrassing I find it. Like, I might go out and wring his neck with my own two Clampett hands if he doesn't stop calling attention to us.
Oh, good luck. As respectful as Novella's descriptions were, they almost made a vegetarian out of me.
ReplyDeletewhy does this remind me of an episode of green acres?
ReplyDelete"But my father's on his way with his knife..."
ReplyDeletemore like Slasher stuff.
hey, don't leave us hanging like that. we're all awaiting the report from the slaughterhouse.
ReplyDeleteand there will be pictures, right?
Send me your email, Anonymous, and I will send you a doozie of a picture.
ReplyDelete"My father's on his way with his knife" can't help but evoke the great first sentence of Charlotte's Web: "Where's papa going with that ax?"
ReplyDelete