Chicken!
by Your Diva, Robin Pastorio-Newman

He's turning green. He's standing in the doorway, watching you cut up whole chickens with kitchen shears. He's not fainting or anything, but he looks a little wavy. He says, "I'm, um, thinking I'll go hack up some lumber in a manly way."
 
"Are you feeling okay?"
 
"Yeah. Fine."
 
"You like chicken, right?"
 
"Yeah..."
 
"But what I'm doing is making you queasy?"
 
"It's just so anatomical..."
 
"I'm cutting up chickens. Did you think they descended from Heaven coated in 11 herbs and spices?"
 
"No. I..."
 
"Here, why don't you help me? Take the scissors and cut off the wings. Like this -"
 
Snip. Now he's completely green. He might pass out right here on the cheap vinyl flooring, providing a nice contrast to the awful yellow and orange plaid pattern. He backs away.
 
"After I finish cutting off the wings and legs, I'll cut up the center of the breast and along the sides and down the back. Do you like giblets? Want to rinse off the liver?"
 
"No... I..."
 
"See? This is no big deal. I pull off all the extra fat. How's that look?"
 
"...Cadaverous..."
 
"And I cut the leg from the thigh at the joint - "
 
Snip. He might yak.
 
"Now I'll rub everything with salt, put the chicken aside and wash my hands. You want to go outside and pick some tomatoes for the salad?"
 
"I... don't think I should go near the garden..."
 
"Hand me the flour, some pepper, basil. Do we have any onion salt?"
 
"...I can't read..."
 
"Are you going to help me or what? They're your friends."
 
"Maybe build a fire... I'll go plant the trees..."
 
That's Mr. Top Of the Food Chain to you and me!
 

©2003 Robin Pastorio-Newman