I’ve come to the realization that because of Chuck Billy I can’t have squeaky toy friends. While helping Dad organize the basement I discovered a squeaky toy hiding amongst the boxes. Immediately I brought this new friend upstairs to show Chuck Billy.
Hey, look who I found hiding in the basement!
While Chuck Billy examined my new friend, I pondered what to name her.
Ms. Duck? No! She will be named Ms. Chicken!
But before I realized what was happening, Chuck Billy stole Ms. Chicken from me and began attacking her!
Chuck Billy wildly flailing about with my new friend!
Stop it! I whimpered! Ok, looking back I realize I probably should have barked. Then I tried to wrestle Ms. Chicken from his grasp.
Give me back my chicken!
But alas, I was no match for Chuck Billy’s inner wolf. He was determined to kill my new friend.
I watched helplessly as my new friend became shredded chicken.
After the carnage was over, do you know what Chuck Billy said to me?
“That didn’t taste like chicken at all. You should have named her Ms. Duck.”
Did he seriously think my squeaky toy would taste like chicken?! Then tired from his exertions, Chuck Billy settled in for a nap.
You do realize you’re the reason why we can’t have anything nice?
I spent the remainder of the afternoon pondering the friendship that could have been, while remembering the few cherished moments we had together.
Farewell Ms. Chicken! I wish I could have got to know you better.
