Post by Mullet Fish on Apr 18, 2005 18:30:17 GMT -5
In the beginning there was a farm. A quaint little farm, in a quaint little village. There was nothing else except an all encompassing blackness, which, it is believed, was the beginning of hunger.
On this farm, there were cows. Many cows. They grazed in the open fields and roamed freely and happily. And it was good.
But alas, as all good things must come to an end this one was no exception, and it's end was already beginning.
Several of what we call today "kilometers" away was another farm, much like the one above. Yet this one was different. Instead of a cozy barn there were many small huts, raised slightly from the ground. Instead of the only mildly unpleasant odor of cow manure there was the unbearable reek of chicken crap.
It was indeed a chicken farm. It's arrival in this strange place was unexplained, as it was inhabited exclusively by the animals. But this is not important.
The chickens were rather stupid, mean spirited little things who had, somewhere in the dark (and dusty) recesses of their acorn-sized brains, plans for global domination. These plans lay dormant as they didn't know of anything to dominate. If they were the only creatures around they must have dominated something already, and thus were rather proud of themselves, and thus originated their snobby sort of strut. Or so it is believed.
Although the cows were a mere stone's throw from their field, they were completely unaware of their existence. The reason? A ten foot tall corrugated steel barrier devided them. At one point ine if the chickens had wondered what it was for, but it tasted bad and made his stomach feel funny so he let it be. The cows merely figured it was the source of their farm and as a result the worshipped it in their dull, meaningless way. Of course, it seems slightly ironic that the thing they worshipped would ultimately spell their doom.
On this farm, there were cows. Many cows. They grazed in the open fields and roamed freely and happily. And it was good.
But alas, as all good things must come to an end this one was no exception, and it's end was already beginning.
Several of what we call today "kilometers" away was another farm, much like the one above. Yet this one was different. Instead of a cozy barn there were many small huts, raised slightly from the ground. Instead of the only mildly unpleasant odor of cow manure there was the unbearable reek of chicken crap.
It was indeed a chicken farm. It's arrival in this strange place was unexplained, as it was inhabited exclusively by the animals. But this is not important.
The chickens were rather stupid, mean spirited little things who had, somewhere in the dark (and dusty) recesses of their acorn-sized brains, plans for global domination. These plans lay dormant as they didn't know of anything to dominate. If they were the only creatures around they must have dominated something already, and thus were rather proud of themselves, and thus originated their snobby sort of strut. Or so it is believed.
Although the cows were a mere stone's throw from their field, they were completely unaware of their existence. The reason? A ten foot tall corrugated steel barrier devided them. At one point ine if the chickens had wondered what it was for, but it tasted bad and made his stomach feel funny so he let it be. The cows merely figured it was the source of their farm and as a result the worshipped it in their dull, meaningless way. Of course, it seems slightly ironic that the thing they worshipped would ultimately spell their doom.