Posted by: Nick Walters | July 5, 2009

Feathered Friends (Part 1)

A chicken, a goose and a turkey walk in to a pub.

“CLUCK! CLUCK! A pint of Stella! CLUCK! Please! Barman! CLUCK!” says the chicken.

“HONK! HONK! A pint of Best please, HONK! Good sir!” says the goose.

“GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE! A Bacardi Breezer for me! GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE!” says the turkey.

As the barman pours the drinks the three fowl argue about who pays.

“CLUCK! I got the last CLUCKing round it, at the Red Lion! CLUCK!” asserts the chicken.

“HONK! You lying HONKer! cries the goose. “That was me!” HONK!”

“GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE! Gollocks!” interjects the turkey. “You haven’t bought a GOBBLE GOBBLE! round all GOBBLE! evening!”

“HONK! No way! HONK!” protests the goose.

“CLUCK! Yes way – pay CLUCK! up! CLUCK! Or CLUCK! else!” threatens the chicken.

“That’ll be eight pounds thirty, please, chaps” says the barman.

“HONK! WHAAAAAT?! HONK!” yells the goose. “The best HONK! part of ten HONKing quid for three HONK! drinks? How do you HONK! work that HONK! out?!”

The barman frowns and folds his arms. “Two eighty-five for the Stella, two fifty for the Best, and two ninety-five for the Breezer, equals eight pounds and thirty pence.”

“CLUCK! He’s right! CLUCK!” said the chicken, who was a clever chicken, and good at mental arithmetic.

“HONK! You always go for the most expensive HONK! HONK! drinks!” says the goose accusingly to the turkey.

“GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE! It will all come out in the GOBBLE! wash!” says the turkey uncertainly.

“HONK! Huh! HONK!” responds the goose.

“CLUCK! CLUCK! We should get some crisps and CLUCK! nuts!” announces the chicken. “I’m feeling… rather… PECKISH!”

The three fowl collapse in clucks, honks and gobbles of laughter at this joke whilst the barman looks on in mounting despair.

“GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE! Three packets of McCoy’s please!” the turkey manages to say through honks of mirth.

“HONK! Why is it always on my HONKing round that we buy the HONKing snacks?” mutters the goose, but everyone ignores him.

The barman sights. “What flavour?”

“CLUCK! One Salt and CLUCK! Vinegar, one Cheese and one CLUCK! Plain please! CLUCK!” says the chicken excitedly.

“GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE! What about nuts?” says the turkey.

“CLUCK! Oh yeah – I CLUCK! forgot!” says the chicken. “And a packet of dry roasted CLUCK! peanuts please!”

“HONK! I want plain! HONK!” cries the goose.

“CLUCK! Okay we’ll get both! CLUCK” smirks the chicken.

“HONK! Arse! HONK! This is gonna cost me a pretty HONK! penny!” wails the goose.

“GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE! I want some Mini Cheddars! GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE!” yells the turkey.

The goose rounds on him, hissing in anger. “HONK! HONK! HONK! You greedy HONKing cunt! First the nuts, now the Mini HONK! Cheddars! And on my HONKing round! HONK! You pay for these! HONK! YOU PAY!”

“Calm down please or I’ll have to ask you to leave!” shouts the barman.

“CLUCK! Just pay – we’ll CLUCK! sort it out later! CLUCK!” says the chicken soothingly.

“That’ll be twelve pounds and fifteen pence,” says the barman.

“HONK! WHAAAAT?” splutters the goose. “How the HONK do you work THAT out?”

The barman says, through gritted teeth, “Seventy pence each for the crisps, ninety for the nuts, and eighty-five for the Mini Cheddars, comes to three pounds eighty-five, added to the drinks, comes to twelve fifteen.”

“CLUCK! Hang on! CLUCK!” says the chicken, cogitating. “CLUCK! Yes – he’s right. CLUCK!”

“HONKing hell,” mutters the goose, getting out his wallet. “I have to HONK! break in to a HONKing twenty now.”

The three fowl collect their drinks and snacks and retreat to a corner table. They munch happily for a while until the chicken says:

“CLUCK! CLUCK! Anyone fancy a game of pool?”




  1. […] Feathered Friends (Part 2) (For Part 1 please click here) […]

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