This a story about the chicken that wasn't there.
I was looking forward to a left-over chicken snack, but, astonishingly, there was no chicken. Apparently I had already eaten the chicken, perhaps during one of my late night, gastronomic somnambulations. I don't remember eating the chicken, but all the evidence indicated that I had already eaten all the chicken. This was very confusing because I have no recollection of eating the chicken.
There was sadness, too, because I was really, really looking forward to eating some chicken.
Alas, the chicken wasn't there.
And that's my romantic tragedy - perhaps the greatest romantic tragedy ever told involving chicken - titled The Chicken That Wasn't There.
I was looking forward to a left-over chicken snack, but, astonishingly, there was no chicken. Apparently I had already eaten the chicken, perhaps during one of my late night, gastronomic somnambulations. I don't remember eating the chicken, but all the evidence indicated that I had already eaten all the chicken. This was very confusing because I have no recollection of eating the chicken.
There was sadness, too, because I was really, really looking forward to eating some chicken.
Alas, the chicken wasn't there.
And that's my romantic tragedy - perhaps the greatest romantic tragedy ever told involving chicken - titled The Chicken That Wasn't There.
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