Now this is new. When it comes to animals flinging themselves under the axe, pigs are typically tops.
Well, step aside, pigs. There's a new player in town. And, hey: it's nothing personal. It's just, you know, sometimes a chicken's got to have its wings chopped off and fried up and shoved down someone's throat. Just how it is.
Oh, don't worry about the pigs. They've been in this business a long time. They've seen 'em come and they've seen 'em go. When the smoke clears and the dust settles, they'll still be here, lining up to get killed and eaten just like nothing happened.
But for now, it's this disreputable chicken's turn, this juvenile delinquent with his dungarees and his shades and his exciting air of brash youthfulness. He doesn't take nothing from nobody. Except for the people who have dominated every aspect of his existence from fertilization onward and brought him into being as a commodity for the express purpose of serving their bottom lines and ingrained habits. So, yeah, except for them.
(Thanks to Dr. Liz for the referral.)