There once was a chicken who wanted to cross the road. Her name was Henrietta and she was a Rhode Island Red, a cute one too! Which is why she wanted to cross the road - because some shady looking cock was following her along the pavement obviously watching her nether regions waggle ...
Not, you understand, that Henrietta was a prude or anything, in fact, she quite enjoyed the attentions of the boys, and had spent many a blissful hour in their company in a quiet corner of the chicken coop.
But *this* one ... just didn't look to be her type. Kind of tattered and beaten up, and with that sort of look and demeanour that bespoke some rough edges. Sociable as she was, and fun loving too, Henrietta could see nothing here to inspire any confidence. Besides, it was beginning to get dark.
There was a zebra crossing just ahead, so Henrietta followed it. Having to hop quickly to avoid a pile of fresh steaming dung in the process. Zebras not being too particular about where they go to the loo don't you know. They have this disgusting habit of fanning it about with their tails sometimes too, you know, the way hippopotomi do ...
Not that this was of any concern to Henrietta at the moment. She had much more bothersome things to worry about. Things that would have made her palms sweaty if she'd had any. Things that made her breath just a little bit shorter and her heart beat that much more quickly. Things that began to create a dark and threatening worry in her mind.
Nervously she looked over her shoulder. Casting an anxious glance to locate the source of her perturbation.
He was still plodding along, as he'd always been, looking neither to left nor right.
Not once did he raise his head, as Henrietta waited with baited breath, and watched him trudge by until he had disappeared into the distance.
With a heartfelt sigh of relief Henrietta carried on with her shopping.
But *this* should anybody ask you, is the reason why the chicken crossed the road.
