We have several little “novelties” items in our office that keep us amused and bring us a little light relief when the pressure is on …. one of them being our all singing, all dancing cockerel! However, the other day we noticed he was missing ….. and robust panic ensued …. we searched high and low, but he couldn’t be found …..
…… and then events took a sinister turn that filled both Darrell and I with grave concern…. so much so that we were covered from head to toe in mahoooooosive goosebumps ……..….. when we received an envelope containing cuttings from what looked like very familiar looking fluff and feathers …..
…… followed by a note from the “perpetrators” of what now looked like a kidnap of a most unsettling nature ….. saying that they had got our cockerel and would be in touch soon!A feeling of trepidation was beginning to fill our hearts by this stage, when we realised the possible significance of the cock flavoured soup we found on our desk a couple of days before, thinking it was for us to review …… OMG!!!!
We started to draw up a list of possible suspects …. but everyone had a plausible alibi …… and these people were our friends, how could we think that one of them was guilty of holding our cockerel to ransom?
Such was the concern that one of them, The Ever Radiant and Ravishing Rebecca sought solace in penning us an ode, hoping that it would help quell our ever growing terror……..
“Taws just another Autumn day
And warnings none were seen
A dastardly crime as ever was
A cocknapper, cruel and mean.
He crept about the corridors
A-waiting and a-lurking,
He stole our little poultry friend
And ran off, cock a-jerking.
Our feathered friend, so cruelly took
His feathers sent as proof
Has the rotter strung him up?
Or made him into soup?
We may not know, we cannot tell
What pains he has to bear
We only hear his raucous call
But Mummy isn’t there!
Oh cock, oh cock, our dearest cock
No-one can feel our sufferin’.
I hope you’ve not been Chinese wokked,
Or sage and onion stuffinged.
Where is that cock, we miss him so,
His loss we feel so keen.
I hope he’s not Kentucky fried,
With coleslaw and with beans.
We’d love to stroke your head again
And kiss your beady eye
We’d like to see that comb, erect,
Goodbye, dear cock, goodbye.”
To be continued ……….