Once upon a time there was a pretty red hen. She was young and happy and looked forward to laying her first egg.
On Tuesday, she tried to lay an egg, but couldn’t.
On Wednesday, she tried again. She tried all that day, but her effort was useless.
Finally, on Friday, she laid a cream-colored egg. In excitement, she clucked and squawked and flapped her wings. Lil’ Red had laid an egg!
She caressed her egg lovingly and tucked it under her belly. “I’ll name you Stewie,” she soothed.
Suddenly, the wall beside her opened and a huge hand stuck in and grabbed Lil’ Red’s egg. Lil’ Red flapped in fury, but it was useless.
For days, Lil’ Red’s eggs were stolen. Days melted into weeks, weeks into months, and months into almost a year.
Two days before New Year’s Eve, Lil’ Red decided to stop laying eggs. She was tired of getting her eggs stolen by the children, Molly Mae and Jason Jon.
On New Year’s Eve, Mrs. Tatianna, the farmer’s wife, wanted to make a cake. Since Lil’ Red had decided to stop laying eggs, she wasn’t able to bake it. To make up for it, her husband decided to make a special rotisserie chicken treat. He strolled over to the chicken coop. Who should he butcher? Not Pam, she was the best layer. Not Jane, Katie, or Molly—they also were good. Finally, he came to Lil’ Red.
“Aha!” he cried. “You’ll be roasted before you know it.”
So that’s the tale of Lil’ Red, who got a knife put in her head.
