The Chicken Question

 

OK folks, we need your honest opinion on this. It is a question in three parts. Please try to answer and if possible give reasons for your answer.

You are at the supermarket. They have packets of fresh chicken pieces at half price. They also have a notice saying: THREE PACKETS PER FAMILY

FIRST SITUATION: You are with your spouse, and grown up child. You decide to take three packets each and pay for them at separate check-outs.

IS THIS STEALING? IS IT A SIN?

Remember, you have paid for all nine packets; so is it stealing?

SECOND SITUATION: The reason you bought so much chicken is because you need them to feed the homeless at the local shelter for the homeless. It is a charity with not much funds.

IS BUYING NINE PACKETS STEALING OR NOT IN THOSE CIRCUMSTANCES?

THIRD SITUATION: Here's another scenario. You buy the nine packets and keep three for yourself as a family, and the other six packets are for two other families you know; for example two friends with their own families.

IS THIS STEALING OR NOT?

I love

 

Our teacher asked us what our favourite animal was, and I said, "Fried chicken."

She said I wasn't funny, but she couldn't have been right, because everyone else in the class laughed.

My parents told me to always be truthful and honest, and I am. Fried chicken is my favourite animal. I told my dad what happened, and he said my teacher was probably a vegetarian and would not have reacted if I'd said I loved fried couscous!

He said vegetarians love animals very much.

I do, too. Especially chicken, pork and beef. Anyway, my teacher sent me to the principal's office. I told him what happened, and he laughed, too. Then he told me not to do it again.

The next day in class my teacher asked me what my favourite live animal was.

I told her it was chicken. She asked me why, just like she'd asked the other children.

So I told her it was because you could make them into fried chicken.

She sent me back to the principal's office again. He laughed, and told me not to do it again. I don't understand. My parents taught me to be honest, but my teacher doesn't like it when I am.

Today, my teacher asked us to tell her what famous person we admire most.

I told her, "Colonel Sanders." Guess where I am now. Anyway, the principal smiled without saying a word and then he opened his desk drawer and we shared some KFC legs he had there.

Go away and leave me in peace

It happened again. I was looking forwards to some peace and quiet and guess what ... I got disturbed once more by unexpected events.

The family had gone to London for a few days. I was home alone. Hooray ... two days to myself to watch sports on TV.

No sooner the match started that the door bell rang. Who is it visiting me on a Saturday afternoon? I don't like visitors at the best of times, never mind Saturday afternoons.

It was some friends we knew from long ago. A married couple. We hadn't seen them for some three years or so. They were visiting town to see a friend just for the day and they thought they'd pop in to say hello. 

I wish I could have said hello and shut the door again. I hesitated. (Wrong thing to do - never hesitate). 

"Ehm ... I was going out ..." I mumbled.

"Oh sorry," she said, "is it a bad time?"

"Actually ..." I hesitated again, "it is a tragic time ... tragic ... that's the word!"

"Oh dear ..." she said her lip trembling, "whatever happened?"

"Are you OK old boy?" he said holding me, "you've gone all white!"

"Well ..." I mumbled again trying to think up a good lie to get rid of them, "the family is away in London, (which was true), and our pet chicken has just died. One moment it was alive and running happily, and the next ... dead!" I lied so convincingly I almost believed it, even though we don't have a pet chicken.

Then confidently I lied some more. Amazing how easy it is. "I was just going out to the pet shops to see if I could find another similar chicken before the family get home on Monday!"

"Oh ... you had me worried, old boy!" he said emptying the pipe he was smoking by tapping it against my wall, "I thought it was really serious. Tell you what? The friend we are visiting not far from here owns a small farm. A few cattle, sheep, ducks and chickens. I'm sure we can persuade him to let you have a chicken. Can we see the one which died so we get one similar? If he hasn't got one, I'm sure he'll know where to get hold of a similar breed!"

"Yes ... that's right," she said, "he has contacts in the farming community. Can we see the dead chicken?"

I hesitated again ... after a second or two, I let them in. They sat in front of the TV and I left to go to the kitchen.

Where the hell am I to find a dead chicken? I thought. Why is all this happening to me? In desperation ... amazing the stupid things you do when you're desperate ... I opened the freezer and found a frozen chicken from the supermarket. We usually have some frozen foods for emergencies ... and this was an emergency.

I quickly unwrapped the chicken and put it on a plate and went to the sitting room and presented it to them.

"It's ... it's frozen old boy!" he said pointing to the bleeding obvious.

My immediate thoughts were "Cryogenics". I could say that I froze the chicken in the hope ... in the hope ... that ...  that ... that when the family get back perhaps we could have the creature stuffed by a taxidermist as a permanent memory of the happiness it brought us.

But then ... how could I explain that it was totally devoid of feathers and had lost its head and legs? 

What possessed me to bring a frozen chicken as evidence of a live one which had just died moments earlier? How do I get out of this tight spot of my own making?

A light bulb switched on suddenly in my brain. I pride myself in my quick thinking sometimes.

"Of course it's frozen!" I said convincingly pointing out to him that I too recognise the bleeding obvious, "I froze it in the hope of cooking it tomorrow. As I said, I was just going out to the pet shops to buy a live one ... not a frozen one ... ha ... ha ... ha ..." I laughed stupidly.

Unbelievably ... they bought it ... they bought my story which even I did not believe. Purely because it was all a pack of lies. And they bought it.

They drove in their car and I followed them in mine to their friend's farm. Luckily, he had normal looking chickens. I chose one which they put in a small cage for me to drive back home with.

The family will be surprised ... and delighted ... that I got them a new pet whilst they were away as a welcome home present. I think I'm a great parent. Don't you?

Why did the chicken ...

 

Years ago we lived in a small village in the countryside. A small house with a field nearby. We decided to raise some chickens. Not many; about ten or twelve and we hoped to have fresh eggs every day.

The man who sold us the chickens explained that we could let them roam in the field. "It's called free range!" he said with a smile. He said that chickens are omnivores and will eat anything. They scratch the ground and eat seeds, insects or even animals like lizards or worms. They live together as a flock and they have a pecking order as to who is boss. They also tend to nest together in a communal place rather than build individual nests.

He told us to place a box with some hay in a particular place they frequent, safe from any predators, and if we put one or two eggs there, they'll get the idea and they'll lay their eggs there.

He explained that in production farming on a large scale they have even taught the hens to lay their eggs straight into the boxes which are then taken to the shops. Originally, before they were domesticated, chickens used to lay their eggs everywhere. Even on the motorway if it was not for the heavy traffic. Which explains why the chicken crossed the road but never laid an egg there.

Anyway, we had our twelve chickens and we placed a large box with hay near their coop and we waited to collect the eggs.

Nothing ... following day ... nothing ... and so on it went ... nothing!

The man who sold us the chicken explained that the hens have a hierarchy structure, a pecking order. I should discover which one is the boss, the manager or trade union leader or whatever; and follow her. Maybe the hens were all laying their eggs in another place.

So early the following morning I did just that. I got up before dawn and observed the chickens eating happily together. I noticed one of them wander off alone. I followed her. She got to the edge of the field and got out. I followed. She crossed the road. I followed. She walked down the road. I followed ... and that's when I discovered she was selling the eggs to the local supermarket.

Hotel Reservation

 

Can I book a room for me and my swan please?

I beg your pardon, Sir?

A room ... for me and my swan. She is waiting in the car.

A swan, Sir? That's very unusual.

Yes ... a swan. What's so unusual about that? It says on the notice at your door, "Pets Allowed".

You have a swan as a pet, Sir? By pet we mean a cat, or dog, we'll accept them ... not a swan.

Now look here ... it does not specify at the door what kind of pet you mean. Mine happens to be a swan. I am here in town for the falconry exhibition and contest. I am here to enter my swan at the contest.

You're entering a swan in a falconry contest? How does that work?

What do you mean how does it work? I hold my arm outstretched like so. I hold a small piece of meat in my hand ... fish actually ... swans don't eat meat ... they are vegetarian. The swan flies from on top of a tree and lands on my arm!

The swan is a big bird, Sir. It must be very heavy for it to land on your arm.

Of course it is. I once broke my arm in three places.

What did you do?

I stopped going to these three places.

Why not practice falconry with a small bird ... like a falcon? Or a hawk? Or owl?

When I started I used a chicken.

A chicken, Sir? But a chicken does not fly.

Oh, we sorted that minor problem. A friend of mine used to throw the chicken at me from a distance and get it to land on my arm.

Did it work?

Not really ... one of the falcons ate the chicken.

Have you tried frozen chickens from the supermarket, Sir?

Good thought ... good thought ... Now have you got a room for me and my swan?

We have a double room. Would you mind sharing with a man and his crocodile?