Birds of a feather"It's skin-less.""Nonsense. Skin-less is what you get in the supermarket. This has tons of skin. Look at that bright red skin. " "Yes, yes, fine. Feather-less. That's what I meant to say, feather-less. No feathers. It's just obscene." "Obscene? Obscene as in, it looks really gross? Or obscene because it's a freak of nature?" "Both. Look at it!" "I think it's kinda cute." "It's not cute. It's a ghastly abomination that should not be. Definitely not be in my sight." "It's just a chicken." "It's not just a chicken. It's a bright red feather-less half baked scrawny skuttering mass." "Skuttering isn't a word." "Don't you tell me what's a word. Look at that thing. Just look at it. It's skuttering all right." "What's your big deal?" "You! It! You're both my big deal. You're mucking with science again. That thing isn't natural." "How can you say it isn't natural? It's a chicken. It came from an egg. Just like it's parents before it." "It's parents had feathers." "Actually, no, not much." "What?" "Selective cross breeding. I found some chickens that had no neck feathers, and I kept cross breeding 'em with others that were feather deficient and viola -- featherless chicken!" "And there's no monkey business?" "No DNA manipulation, no crazy Frankenstein labs, not even any monkey genes." "Don't get cute with me." "It's all 100% natural. In the too much information category; we got them just they way we get all baby chickens." "Gah. What sort of female chicken would want that thing?" "Well, actually, that's my one stretch of the truth. We sort of had to coax the hens." "Coax them?" "Well, yeah. The roosters show off their prowess by flapping their wings and strutting. Unfortunately, all the strutting in the world doesn't put this boy on anyone's dance card." "Coax them?" "You don't want to know." "You're right. I don't want to know." "Isn't he a darling?" "No. He's not. He should be baked up and put out of our misery." "Well, yes. That's the point." "What's the point." "He's for eating. But quietly now... don't tell him that." "You breed a feather-less chicken for eating?" "Well, yes. I didn't do it for art." "Why? Did you think you'd save time plucking feathers?" "Oh, no... it's cuts down on the heat stroke." "Chickens suffer from heat stroke?" "Oh, yes. Feathers are insulators. Don't want to cook those chickens before... before... well, before they're ready for cooking." "Thousands of years of raising chickens and humans have a problem with them immolating before they're ready for eating?" "Well, not around here... but in the desert, sure." "That's a desert chicken?" "Aye. I think the bright red skin just screams desert. Don't you?" "You're a nut job... that's what you are." "Yes, but you're glad I gave up with the spiders, aren't you?" "Yes... yes I am."
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