Mr. & Mrs. Simpleton

A simplistic farmer and his equally naïve wife had some beautiful, plump chickens in a secure coop. They also had a few pet chickens that were the pride of their lives. One day a sly coyote, the leader of a pack, wanted badly for he and his hungry crew to get at the farmer’s chickens. Unable to dig under the cement curbing surrounding the coop or locate an opening in the wire fence, the wily wolf came up with a novel idea. He boldly ambled up the pathway to the farmer’s house and yapped a chilling howl.

The slow-witted farmer and his none-too-bright wife answered the door. Alarmed, and having given their weapons up in a government sponsored gun-buy-back, they moved to slam the door.

“Wait!” the desert wolf cried. “It’s not what you think. I’ve changed.”

The gullible couple exchanged questioning glances.

“It’s true,” the coyote hurried on. “I’m no longer a carnivore, honest. I’ve gone vegan and only eat grains and seeds. One night as I watched TV through your window, a PETA commercial converted me.”

“You can’t be serious,” the farmer exclaimed.

“I am serious too. I quit the canine family. Now I’m a chicken.”

“A chicken!” the farmer’s wife gasped. “Why I declare, you don’t have a feather one on you.”

“Makes no difference,” the coyote responded. “In my heart I’m a chicken.”

“But your meat look’s stringy and tough,” the farmer’s easily-misled wife observed. “I doubt very seriously if you’d make a decent fried chicken dinner, much less lay an egg.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the animal grinned, exposing pointy teeth. “Cluck-cluck, I’m a chicken, and although it’s true I don’t lay eggs or make good fried chicken, mixed with pigs feet,onions and lots of chili peppers you’ll never taste such a dish.”

The simplistic farmer and his equally dupable wife shrugged shoulders at one another. Both walked to the coop and opened the gate, ushering in the four-legged mongrel.

That night the couple awoke to a loud racket coming from the direction of the chicken coop. They ran outside in their night clothes to discover the chicken coop gate wide open. Inside and to their horror, they found blood, bones and feathers scattered everywhere.

“Aaagh!” the farmer screamed. “We’ve been tricked! Lied to! Deceived!”

“Not entirely,” the farmer’s wife said. “I kept our own pet chicks in the house. They’re safe. Those out there were, well, deplorable.”

Dumb country rubes.



Farmer’s wife

Coyote and pals

Pet chicks

Chicken Coop

But not the chickens