Someplace, there is an island, where wild

Someplace, there is an island, where wild chickens run free. Every June, we take our boats to the island, and have a big poultry round-up. Chicken Boys riding Shetland ponies would

ride up in their stirrups while steel drums played the Chicken Dance. One year, the Chicken Boys showed up in jumpsuits with fancy Popeyes patches and started the turkey genocide

. They had gone mad."Thanksgiving Christmas and Easter! Whine about your tri-annual problems mean while we're are eaten every G.D. of the year!" The Chickens carved the Turkeys up.

"Heresy!" screamed the Turkeys. "The Egg came before all! And the Egg will exist after all else has faded!" "No!" crowed the Chickens. "We shall overthrow the Egg and become gods!"

Just then a T Rex stepped in through a time warp and laid a giant egg. The turkeys and chickens stopped arguing and gaped in disbelief. The egg began to crack open and inside was a

very old man. After a few minutes, the old man began blinking his eyes open and taking in his surroundings. He noticed the turkeys, chickens, and T-Rex staring at him. He then said

something in Swedish, saw nothing but incomprehension and adjusted some device at his hip. "Do you understand me now?" People in the crowd started to nod that they could. I didn't

understand, but I nodded anyway, thinking it was the polite thing to do. Unfortunately, others around me noticed, and I had to keep pretending I understood their strange language.

Of course I didn't realize what I was agreeing to, which is why I'm stuck out here in Cyberia, cold, lonely, afraid, and pissed as hell. Politeness is definitely overrated.