Another...
Henny The hen looked at the smooth egg in her hands and felt plucky.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her warm surroundings. She had always loved cosy Coop with its skinny, spicy straw. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel plucky.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Rooster Roo. Rooster was a loud volcano with floppy comb and large wattles.
Henny gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a skittish, plucky, water drinker with red comb and saggy wattles. Her friends saw her as a tough, thundering top hen. Once, she had even revived a dying, baby chick.
But not even a skittish person who had once revived a dying, baby chick, was prepared for what Rooster had in store today.
The rain hammered like crowing hawks, making Henny aggravated.
As Henny stepped outside and Rooster came closer, she could see the brief smile on his face.
Rooster gazed with the affection of 2256 clumsy tame turkeys. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want eggs."
Henny looked back, even more aggravated and still fingering the smooth egg. "Rooster, I don't love you anymore," she replied.
They looked at each other with happy feelings, like two disturbed, defeated ducks clucking at a very cowardly egg festival, which had egg song music playing in the background and two smart uncles waddling to the beat.
Suddenly, Rooster lunged forward and tried to punch Henny in the face. Quickly, Henny grabbed the smooth egg and brought it down on Rooster's skull.
Rooster's floppy comb trembled and his large wattles wobbled. He looked skittish, his emotions raw like an envious, energetic egg.
Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Rooster Roo was dead.
Henny The hen went back inside and made herself a nice drink of water