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The New Hen

Harry did like he always did every evening. He kissed his wife, crawled into bed and went to sleep. All of a sudden, he woke up and saw an elderly man dressed in a robe standing in front of his bed.

“What are you doing in my bedroom? Who are you?” he asked.

“This is not your bedroom,” the man replied, “I am St. Peter, and you are in heaven.”

“WHAT!?? Are you saying I’m dead? I don’t want to die… I’m too young.” said Harry. “If I’m dead, I want you to send me back immediately.”

“It’s not that easy”, said St. Peter, “you can only return as a dog or a hen. You’ll have to choose on your own…”

Harry thought about it for a while, and figured out that being a dog is too tiring and that a hen probably has a nice and relaxed life. Running around with a rooster can’t be that bad, he thought.

“I want to return as a hen.” Harry replied. And in the next second, he found himself on a chicken farm and nicely feathered. But now “he” felt like his rear end was gonna blow. Then along came the rooster!

“Hey, you must be the new hen on the farm.” he said. “How does it feel being a hen?”

“Well, it’s OK I guess, but I feel like my rear end is blowing up.”

“Oh that!” said the rooster. “That’s only the ovulation going on. Have you never laid an egg before??”

“No, how do I do that?” Harry asked.

“Cluck twice, and then you push all you can” said the rooster.

Harry clucked twice, and pushed with all his might and then ‘Plop’ and a egg was on the ground.

“Wow,” Harry said “that feels much better!” So he clucked again and squeezed. And sure enough there was yet another egg on the ground.

The third time he clucked, he heard his wife shout, “Harry! Wake up. You’re pooping all over the bed!”

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