Author is a retired attorney having practiced for 35 years in Illinois who now lives in Texas and started writing stories about a year and a half ago.
Lucy Goosey was running for office. The office of representative of the fowl and stock of Farmer Dell. Through the years she had been in politics continually and had stuck her beak in everybody’s business and therefore deemed herself worthy of this job. But the truth of the matter was that she was just lumpy, dumpy, frumpy and grumpy. An old woman who had trouble waddling around the barnyard.
Her opponent was Cocky Red Rooster. He had never held any office before but felt himself qualified because he had clawed and scratched his way to the top of the pecking order. And besides his comb was perfect. Perfectly kept in place all the time, never falling to the right or left, always standing straight up.
Farmer Dell would let the animals vote but he would count the ballots, or in other words pick the winner, for no way was he going to let the animals rule his farm. The election was just for show, to let the animals think that they had a say in things.
Lucy Goosey’s co-campaign managers were Terry Bull and Penny Henny. She diversified her staff, half being fowl, half being beast, one a male, one a female for it was the animal correct thing to do. One day when Famer Dell was out reaping the North Forty she sneaked into his house and called her managers to discuss election strategy with them.
First she spoke to Terry Bull. “We need to spread the rumor that Rooster never paid any taxes last year,” she told him. “Everyone’s got to pay taxes even if it’s only chicken feed. Get on it,” she ordered him knowing full well that Terry Bull would horribullize the rumor to the fullest extent possible.
She then gave Penny Henny the same instructions for she knew that Penny would run around like a chicken with her head cut off squawking, “Red Rooster pays no taxes. Red Rooster pays no taxes.”
Farmer Dell lived a rural existence and thus his phone line was a party line. When the phone rang, it rang at the residence of each party member on the line, the call intended for the party whose number of rings had just rung out. Myrtle Turtle was on the party line that Terry Bull was on and recognized the three short rings as a call for Terry Bull. She had no business picking up a call not for her, her ring was long short long, but she picked it up anyway, and listened in. She liked to listen in. She heard it all. Minutes later she also recognized the call to Penny Henny who was also on the same party line. She listened to that call too for Myrtle Turtle was quite nosy even if she had a small one.
Myrtle had no vote in the election for she lived at the pond down the road. But she didn’t like Lucy Goosey who always brought all those messy, honking geese to her pond for their daily swim and gab sessions. She hated them because they were messy. Always leaving goose feathers and goose crap everywhere. She knew if Lucy got elected, things would only get worse so she decided that she would use her new ill gotten information to influence the election. She would sell it to Cocky Red Rooster so that he could use it to his advantage and get elected and she would get something of value from him in return. Rather than call him, for she knew that the line was not secure, she decided to walk to the farm and talk to Red Rooster in person. She got there a day and a half later and did so.
Cocky Red Rooster made a deal with Myrtle. He liked to make deals. It was the price to be paid for the info. So he promised her that when elected he would see to it that no barnyard animals would ever again invade Myrtle Turtle’s territory. He would build her a fence around the pond.
Soon the rumor got out that Red Rooster had not paid any taxes and some animals believed it but Red Rooster didn’t care. He had a plan. He was a clever individual. He knew what to do. He did not deny the rumor and in fact proudly admitted that he had paid no income tax, though he actually had, and thereby he let the lie become the truth. He even crowed about it and promised that if elected he would teach everyone else how to do the same, so that they too could legally pay no income taxes. The voters then, rather than think that he had run afoul of the tax code, now admired him for outsmarting the government and flocked to his side.
Lucy Goosey knew that she fowled up. She had used an unsecured phone line and had shot herself in her own webbed foot.
And Farmer Dell knew what was going on too for he had his spies everywhere. He neither liked or trusted Lucy Goosey because she was so slick. Nothing ever stuck to her, just like water off a duck’s back. And as to Cocky Red Rooster, well he was just plain repulsive to him. Always strutting around the barnyard like the cock of the walk or something. He had hoped that someone else would have run, someone like Sheri Sheep who he could have herded around without any trouble. These two would not do. So he asked his political advisor, his wife, what should he do.
“Well,” said his wife. “It looks like Red Rooster is going to win and your sister and her family are coming over for Sunday dinner this Sunday. There’s your answer.”
“Huh?” said a nonplussed Farmer Dell.
“Like the song says. We’ll kill the old red rooster when she comes.”
“But what about Lucy Goosey? What do we do with her?”
“Christmas is only a few weeks away. All my relatives will be here for Christmas dinner. Goose is traditional at Christmas. Problem solved.”
“Well that was relatively easy,” responded Farmer Dell. “Two birds with one’s family stones.”
Moral of the story: Politicians always foul up their nests.