It was glorious and I was compelled to follow them down the secret path.
Sadly, sometimes the path of beauty can take us to a place of unmentionable darkness.
The horror! The horror! What fiendish heart could have wrought such evil!
Coco Van, our real rubber chicken seems to have been selected as a deity by the voodoo devil birds below.
Or the Big Fella has put her there as a deterrent to the endlessly leaping Venus and Serena. Either way that is no way to treat a perfectly respectable rubber chicken. She has been languishing in the cubby a while now but only eighteen months ago Coco was basting in glory.
We invented the game of Hot Flung Chicken at the twins' 11th birthday party. There were a lot of tweeny boys high on sugar and e-numbers. We had to think fast and make them look orderly before parents came to retrieve them. There was an plastic laundry basket that had been emptied of food. There was a nasty, black, jelly tarantula lolly that we knew they would all strive for AND there was a rubber chicken whose destiny was still unwritten. I had picked it up off the front lawn on the way to the car. Call it kismet, call it fate. We call it... HOT FLUNG CHICKEN! Travis won the match after a zealously contested battle and was thrilled to receive the Tarantula of Honour. I hear the game has been undertaken at other 12 year old parties this year, Travis' being the first. Whilst we are flattered, we must still recognise the skill of the sport and, always, the dignity of the chicken.
Observe the relaxed, casual stance of the forward underarm throw.
The competitor's weight is transferred to the front foot as the chicken is released.
AH! It's a near miss!
One has three turns in which to 'stuff' the chicken into the laundry basket. The basket must, of course, be regulation, slope sides and at a horizontal orientation to the flinger. Note the preferred grip of the athlete. A loose two fingered tuck, supporting the beak and counterbalanced with a nerf football. This is still a controversial move and not yet accepted in professional fling dinging.
YES! It's stuffed and bagged. A new sport is unveiled to the world.
There's nothing like the sound of falling rubber in the morning!
The competitor's weight is transferred to the front foot as the chicken is released.
AH! It's a near miss!
One has three turns in which to 'stuff' the chicken into the laundry basket. The basket must, of course, be regulation, slope sides and at a horizontal orientation to the flinger. Note the preferred grip of the athlete. A loose two fingered tuck, supporting the beak and counterbalanced with a nerf football. This is still a controversial move and not yet accepted in professional fling dinging.
YES! It's stuffed and bagged. A new sport is unveiled to the world.
There's nothing like the sound of falling rubber in the morning!
Being tossed into a laundry basket seems the lesser of two evils.
ReplyDeleteI once watched a documentary on Vlad the Impaler, and it didn't take me too long to realise that any death was a death better than impalement. Make a note.
Too funny. Thanks for the smile this Monday.
ReplyDelete(Really struggling with Blogger commenting at the moment), thus the anon. Fiona.
Ha! When I read the title I thought it was an oriental recipe for some reason.
ReplyDeleteMMMC: Being tossed into a laundry basket here could mean a life sentence.
ReplyDeleteFiona: Seems to be a lot of that going around.
Deb: Perhaps I'll have to invent one.
No wonder rubber chickens are a threatened species.
ReplyDeleteGreenpeace has the pic of the impaled one already forwarded to them, so I'd expect their galleon on your doorstep anyday now once the Japanese whaling fleet has been dispersed . Or perhaps a "guilty" verdict for the Japanese in the World Court?
These are perilous times for us all.
DMC: The boys would be most excited to have a galleon turn up. Will there be weapons or has Greenpeace banned them? I get confused.
ReplyDeleteHeh heh, good one. Great chicken names, too, especially Coco Van - that is hilarious.
ReplyDeleteCC: I had considered calling her Bianca like the rubber woman in 'Lars and the Real Girl' but Coco seemed to fit better.
ReplyDeleteWe once had a rubber chicken. But she mysteriously disappeared. The End.
ReplyDeleteI too was out taking photos of my rock irises yesterday- they seem more abundant than last year. Hot flung chicken will no doubt be destined for the Olympics. In my uni days at UQ a bloke in my course stood up and declared a rubber chicken when the exam coordinator asked if anyone had anything to declare eg contraband material. He is now in a position of great authority but I will always know him as rubber chicken man. melx
ReplyDeleteAnna: Check your coop and all the laundry baskets. Possibly the freezer?
ReplyDeleteBG: There is just something about the rubber chicken that makes the world a happier place.