BILLINGSGATE POST: Elmer Smuckmeister thought he had seen everything Beaver Crossing had to offer: From cow pie-tossing contests to the unveiling, in the town square, of a 100-foot monument to the Unknown Beaver (which some of the local pinch mouths thought inappropriate), he had been there.
But today, as he was driving the countryside in his restored vintage 1951 Studebaker Champion, running alongside him at a pedestrian 41 mph, was a three-legged Rhode Island Red rooster.
Befuddled by seeing a three-legged chicken out-gunning his Studebaker, Elmer stepped it up a bit. At 60 mph, the rooster appeared nonplussed, as he effortlessly went into second gear. Then, shifting it up a notch, he whipped across the gravel road, in front of the startled Smuckmeister, and pulled into the farmyard of Joe Cocolochek.
Now, Elmer and Joe had had their differences; the recent duck controversy where Joe Cocolochek kicked him in the nuts, was still in Elmer’s recollection.
“Hey Joe, WTF’s the deal with the three-legged chicken? Sumbitch is faster than greased lightning.”
“Well, Elmer. I’m glad you asked.”
“I know both you and wife like the drumstick. What happens if you have a guest, and he likes drumsticks, too?”
“Hadn’t thought of that, Joe. How do they taste?”
“Don’t know, Elmer. Never been able to catch one of the bastards.”
Dr. Slim: “That could only happen if the chicken stumbled.”
Dirty: “Yo, Dr. Dude. Never happen unless the third leg goes sideways.”