THEY WERE ONCE THE RAGE OF THE LONDON STAGE
Henny's older brother raped their mother. That was OK for incest was the best way to guarantee, genetically, what went into the laid laying hen would produce twins occasionally.
When Brown found out the combination of Henny and Rhoad Island Red, sister and brother, produced more twins than any other, they gained fame in the chicken game. Their offspring brought top price in the market place. It meant more twofers for Farmer Brown who owned the hottest cock in town.
Making double bucks off clucks was a yolk stroke of luck. Red's juice produced two in a single shell and Brown's profits soared more and more. Each time Red got laid Brown shouted "Hip, hip, hip hurray! Three cheers for chicken DNA!"
One day, Jenny's mother and father, who also were her sister and brother, got stomach pains. Poppa cock dropped dead, complications of constipation. Red lost her lover and recovered but developed intense flatulence. Gas invaded and inflated her shells. The yolks inside were immense. She still had troubles now and then, left over from when pop popped her repeatedly. But it made no sense to send her to the chopping block just because she lost her cock.
When the widowed hen began laying again everytime she popped she pooped. She thought it best to keep the smell under her breast in the nest. It worked, but she was a nervous wreck. She couldn't take time off to peck. When she moved her bowels she howled. The foul fowl smell, all could tell, resulted from her frequent chickenshit fits.
The chicken twins who shared a shell heard her yell. The foul fowl smell penetrated the shell while they were in the final stages of incubation. Meanwhile, Red sat on her ass and passed vast blasts of gas.
The soon to be chicks got sick, decided to hatch prematurely. They pecked and pecked until they had pains in their necks. Finally, there was a crack in the shell, What do you think? The newborn chicks jumped out and ran away to escape the stink. Momma hen never saw those chicks again. She left one last fart and died of a broken heart.
The chick twins, still plagued by their mother's poop, jumped into a well, washed off the smell, learned to swim, swam to London where they gained fame, became the rage of the London stage.
The brother, who became Cock Rock, was a swinging singer. When he crooned his tune, "Cock-a-doodle-doo Means I Love You," the chicks all swooned. His sister, Jenny Hen, won acclaim and fame in the acting game. But at the height of their careers the fears came true. Both were stricken by passing gas disease that runs in chicken families.
Cock Rock heard about a wise old owl who specialized in stricken chickens. "Take these pills," said Dr. Hoot to Jenny, "and the gas you pass will blow away...unless...unless."
"Yes? Yes? Unless what?" the chicken stars asked Dr. Hoot. The wise old owl wouldn't tell. He just said "Hoo! Hoo!" and went back to the zoo. Chickenshit will get them in the end, the doctor thought. They'll end up in a stew pot, like as not.
The chickens went back to their nest with the blues, checked their mail and were heartened by the news. Rock said to Jen, "How lucky can we get. We've got the leads in Romeo and Juliet." On opening night as they began the famous scene, unseen in the balcony was the ghost of smelly mom. "Good luck!" she clucked vindictively. "I'll fix those chicks for abandoning me!"
The audience waited expectantly. Suddenly, there was a roar followed by an awful smell. As panic gripped the crowd Jen cried, "Where fart thou, Romeo?" A plop-plop stopped the show as Jenny laid a giant rotten egg. Broken shells and slimy raw egg swamped the stage. The audience was enraged. "Put those poopers in their coop! Turn 'em into noodle soup!"
Everybody watched aghast as the cast slipped and fell. Hot spotlights turned the stage into one big omelet mixed with scrambled theatrical hams. And the play turned into the largest breakfast buffet in showbiz history.
Needless to say, the curtain fell. That climaxed the career of the two stars who never graced the stage again. Instead of saying the traditional line, "Break a leg," "Break an egg!" became the toast of every talk show host from coast to coast.
But the stars were immortalized by Chophouse Joe where folks would go after a show for a snack and to recall the time when Jenny passed gas and pointed to her ass. That gaff always brought a laugh. So when Joe wanted to add to his bill o' fare, his chicken pot pie memorialized the lives of Rock and Jen.
Whatever happened to Jenny and Cock? Where did they go? Joe looked with pride at his new menu. It seemed the decent thing to do.