-but that rooster was handsome and cunning, indeed. He had feathers of flames and eyes of gold.

Oh, how my owner was red with rage.
 
He died a heroic death, he was taken by a fox soon after our “get together” , he was never seen again. His name was Terrance, he was a local troublemaker and I fell for his bad boy act, his tomfoolery evidently has shown up in bob
 
(Ok.) I stop dreaming about that stunning rooster and start to worry about those missing children. Another child, my kids' half brother. "Hello my name is Timmy, " he says. "I'll help you." How much trouble could a little chick cause?
 

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