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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1265890-Dead-Meat
Rated: · Chapter · Drama · #1265890
This story is about a boy that brings a chicken to school!?!
Chapter 1

It is a pleasant, beautiful Friday night. The breeze is just right. The temperature is breathtaking. The smell is indescribably… rotten. While my lucky family gets to go out, I, Alex Streetway, am forced to stay in school all night and clean up this atrocious mess.

I see that you are very curious to find out why I am stuck at school on a Friday night! Friday night! Can you believe that? Okay, back to the story. I blew up the chicken… Well, I only sort of blew it up. You must be thinking that I am crazy but don’t walk away… RUN!!! Trust me, you don’t want to get attached to reading this depressing story. As for me, I don’t really have a choice. For one, I am telling the story and most importantly, it takes my mind off of cleaning up the scene of this twisted chaos.

It was a gorgeous, sunny Friday morning. Wait a minute! It was only this morning? It seems like such a long time ago! Oh well, it must be cleaning that is slowing the time down. Okay, Friday morning… The tiny birds were chirping in a chorus of songs and a dog was accompanying them with wails of harmony… Actually, it was the chicken! I knew I forgot to feed her the night before! That, my friends, gave me a magnificent idea that hit me like a boxing glove.

The question of what I would bring for show and tell had been haunting me all of this previous month. I was jealous of each and every one of the kids talking about dolls and action figures that they were going to bring and had been putting my choice off until this last minute. After all, what could a farm boy like me have that was special enough to bring to present to my class. But… why couldn’t I bring the chicken for today’s show and tell at school? By now I should tell you that “Wilfreda” the chicken, laid golden eggs. My parents would never ever let Wilfreda even one step away from the barn. But the temptation of showing her off would not leave me at peace. My conscience was playing a game of tug of war against the persuasions of being popular at least for one day. Guess what…the temptations won. Now, I take a moment away from my story to weep and for the millionth time blame the janitor for giving me this sickening job.

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