"I gotta painful ingrown toenail. Boy it

"I gotta painful ingrown toenail. Boy it smarts. I really hate it when dat happens." "I know what you mean. It's like the other night. I took one a them.." "Stick mixers?" "Yeah

" "so what did ya do then?" "Well I used it to scratch ma arm pit." "Uh-huh.""an I switched it to blend""Oooh.""Tore dem hair right out. I hate when dat happens""Thats nothin'"

"I done did ta same thing once. Only after uh was done uh used it ta mix summa dem grits." Spoon hits the bowl. "Wait, when was dat?" "Mmmbout hour ago." "You mean these grits!"

"Yussir. Dees grits." "Ooohhh. Dat's bad news, boy. Bad news. Guess you don't know bout the spoon legend. You betta git ready for sum baaad luck, boy, Some baaad luck."

It was a chicken. A big chicken, flapping at the beak. What the big chicken didn't know was that the chicken hawk and the dog had an understanding.

Actually "an understanding" is an understatement. In fact, the dog and the chicken hawk had been having an affair since 1968. (The hawk blamed bad LSD.) The big chicken, however,

Was on Lake Shore Drive was where the hawk's birdmobile broke down and he had to fly home. This was four years later. LSD was closed off to all traffic. Mayor Richard Daley I knew

would claim to not exist again and call out the Cook County brownshirts. We just had to keep them out. The birdmobile was finally all fixed up. Tomorrow morning we returned to the

wildlife sanctuary in the birdmobile. The egrets greeted us as heroes. All was going gangbusters until a Cook County Brownshirt appeared & commented, “Nice car!” “Get him!” yelled

the zoologist. An army of birds swarmed the Cook County Brownshirt. His death was quick and painless, but the prison sentence most definitely won't be.