Petition to free Smillew’s Chicken from Incarceration
First I ordered a manikin and painted a large smile on the blank face. Then I bought a second hand furry hat and placed it on the dummy’s head…
I started writing on Medium and became obsessed with this one writer — I often get crushes, ask my friend Posy Churchgate. The pair of us giggle about our latest. But this was different. I ceased to be able to function properly on a day-to-day basis because I lived, and breathed — Smillew Rahcuef.
The trouble was I didn’t really live and breathe him. In an attempt to imitate what that may be like, I ordered a manikin and painted a large smile on the blank face. Then I bought a second hand furry hat and placed it on the dummy’s head. There he was in the corner of my sitting room… Smillew — smiling. But that was just the beginning.
At night, I would sit down next to him and chat about my day. Usual stuff, what wonderful stories I had written, how stupid other writers were, but mostly about how great he was.
I was happy for a while, until simply pretending Smillew was in my house was not enough to feed my growing need.
I went online and started emailing him by the hour. After the first reply, when he assured me what I was experiencing was perfectly normal when faced with a man of his calibre, he ignored all my other declarations of esteem. So I DM’ed him on Twitter, and that was when I found out the dreadful truth… He’d blocked me.
My heart cried out in pain. Why would he treat his greatest fan like this?
I decided the only thing left for me to do was go and meet him in the flesh.
Being super intelligent, it was easy to find out his address and within 48 hours I’d hopped on a plane and was winging my way to his house, excited that within a matter of hours I would see this great man and finally know what was hidden under the furry codpiec… I mean headpiece he wears.
I arrived at noon and checked into a hotel in his local town. Once settled, I donned a disguise. Black wig, moustache, that kind of thing. This way I could check out the scene without being recognised. Then I remembered he didn’t even know what I looked like. It was me who was obsessed with him — not the other way around. But when I checked myself out in the mirror, I liked what I saw! So I threw on my own furry hat and set off for his place.
Wanting to take him by surprise, I decided on rear entry, so sneaked round to his back door.
Just as I was about to knock, a massive dog appeared with the biggest bark ever. I acted quickly, pulling out my pre-prepared packed lunch from my pocket, spam sandwiches, and threw them at the mutt. Thankfully, eating quietened him down.
I thought perhaps it would be best to look in the window first. A gradual exposure to my obsession. And that was when I saw him. There, in his kitchen, side on, wearing nothing but his furry hat and copulating with a frozen chicken!
This was too much to bear. I am crazy about chickens, and can’t abide animal cruelty. The poor chicken had not signed up to be abused in such a way. And all at once my crush was crushed, my obsession a thing of the past. I was finally a free woman, however the chicken was not.
I rang the RSPCA and reported Smillew’s outrageous behaviour. However, they informed me that if he bought the chicken from the supermarket freezer section, then he was free to treat it in any way he wished. Justice was not prevailing. I knew I would have to take matters into my own hands. So, please people of Medium, I beg you to sign this petition and free the frozen chicken from its incarceration.
Read my last tale about a bottle of whisky — it’s better than this one…
May More is Editor: Tantalizing Tales & Redemption Magazine. Passionate about transgressive fiction. Top Writer Fiction/Short Stories/Diversity. Twitter @more_matters. Likes individuals, Chickens & Italian wine.
