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"Lucky Eddy And The Swamp Chickens"

Lucky Eddy was an over-the-road car hauler. 
He had a full load of new Ford Fiasco’s on the trailer... 
and he was headed down the Turnpike toward Miami. 

Naturally, It was a dark and stormy night. 

By pure coincidence, 
Harlan Crapper happened to be driving 
a truckload of retarded chickens northward to Yeehaw Junction, 
where he planned to sell them as Grade A 
to his cousin Ranier. 
He was pleased with his own business acuity. 

Harlan liked to brag that he was a direct descendant 
of Sir John Crapper, 
who had changed the world with his plumbing marvel. 
It was a lie, 
but Harlan had told it for so long, 
he considered it to be as good as true. 

Meanwhile, 
Lucky Eddy thought he was either going blind, 
or his headlights were growing dim. 
In the middle of nowhere, 
his headlights went completely out. 
At the Exit sign he thought it said Holopaw and Yeehaw Junction, 
but he didn’t see any town. 

He coasted down the ramp, 
and onto a two lane side road, 
where he eased onto the shoulder, 
and stopped to think. 
They don’t give these trucks to chimps. 

The idea hit him like a crazed mink. 
He climbed up to the new Fords, 
went to the front car, 
and turned its headlights on. 
Back in the cab 
he found that he could see okay with the car headlights. 
He was pretty proud of himself, 
as he headed on down the road 
looking for signs of life. 

Unfortunately, 
the only life forms headed his way 
were Harlan P. Crapper and his retarded chickens. 

Harlan was listening to his favorite radio talk show 
about Bigfoot, crop circles, and UFO’s. 
He was rattling toward Lucky Eddy at his usual 70 mph, 
deep in thoughts of alien abductions, 
when he thought he saw a plane coming in. 
The only trouble was, 
there was no airport. 

As the flying object drew closer 
he saw that it had two bright lights aimed right at him, 
it looked to be about twenty feet off the ground, 
and it was coming for him fast. 

“Whoa!” he hollered, 
and thought “This is it!” 
He prayed that the aliens wouldn’t probe any sensitive areas. 

When the thing was right on top of him, 
Harlan yanked the wheel all the way to right, 
and sailed off into the nice safe swamp. 

Lucky Eddy couldn’t believe his eyes! 
He stopped and walked back to where the truck had flown off. 
He shone his big flashlight into the swamp water, 
and saw Harlan treading water, 
and a bunch of funny acting chickens trying to fly. 

The only thing either of them learned from this adventure 
was this: 
Certain chickens can swim, 
and, with the proper incentive, 
at least one of them can fly. 

© October 30, 2003 Jack Blanchard. All rights reserved. 

 

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