Love thy Neighbor

Bob, whose life was a black abyss.

Ewes of the World broke the scandalous story of Bob and Yortu's (second) break-up, in an exclusive, tell-all interview with Yortu. Such was the heartbreak and anguish that the gossipy bantams took time out from picketing to read the article, and Lecter even ceased his endless barking long enough to read the story in the dim light of his cell.

Shortly before the article went to press, Yortu was spotted fleeing Fiveacres with her and Bob's day-old son, De Sappeared*. The pair haven't been seen since.

Bob, Yortu's jilted lover, was devastated by the disappearance of De Sappeared and Yortu. So much so, that on a dark and stormy Tuesday evening, Bob was seen leaving Fiveacres Farm and wandering dejectedly toward the local Petitentiary. With his head hung low, and his caruncles blue with melancholy, he dragged one foot after the other up the steep (but beautifully-mown) hill, and stopped at the edge of the fence. He drew a heavy breath, and his brow furrowed with concentration. He flexed his wings and leapt, a little unsteadily, over the fence, landing with a loud thump on the deck by Lecter's cell.

Lecter, chained to his cell, had been so busy barking at an imaginary intruder that he hadn't even noticed the real one. At the sound of Bob's somewhat ungraceful landing, Lecter jerked his head up, and blinked. Perched on the deck in the driving rain was a turkey who looked just like Bob, that philandering turkey from Fiveacres who had made the front page of Ewes of the World. Lecter licked his lips, and rummaged around in his cell for some cranberry sauce.

All he found was a half-empty bottle of mint sauce.

Salivating, Lecter crouched, ready to pounce. A young shaver hen, watching the goings on from her nearby coop, shrieked in panic. Bob's eyes flicked up toward the hen, and he gasped.

Even in the pouring rain, the hen's glossy, rust-red shone. Bob's caruncles turned bright red. Who cared about some old turkey when there were hot young chicks out there? He was too young to die. Bob leapt, just in time, into a nearby tree. Seconds later, Lecter crashed with full force into the deck, the mint sauce bottle shattering on impact. Bob perched precariously on his branch, wondering if this time he really was stuffed.

At that very moment, the sound of a late-model european car pulling into the driveway caught Bob's attention. Bob exhaled - surely this was one of the prison guards, here to rescue him. The Neighbor, exiting his late-model european car, surveyed the chaos with horror. The deck was covered in turkey droppings. What would people think? Then the Neighbor's eyes settled on Bob, perched high in the tree, and a slow grin edged its way across his face. The Neighbor rubbed his hands in glee and pulled out his cellphone. Excellent, he said as he dialed Mr Farmer's number. Something else to complain about.

*If you haven't read Freakonomics, you really ought to.

Hens cry fowl over lay-offs

Angry left-wing socialists called for capitalism to be
eggstinguished.

Poultry of Albany's Chicken Executive Officer (CEO) this morning announced a plan to make all 12 laying hens redundant, and to hire a replacement workforce. The proposed restructuring comes after Poultry of Albany the workers' union Kollective For Chickens (KFC) demanded a colleggtive employment eggreement and pay increases of 2.5% - a demand made in response to Poultry of Albany's plans to double productivity, as measured by the number of eggs produced per day, from 6 to 12. Workers state that the proposed target of one egg per bird per day goes against the grain, and that the present laying roster system is a more realistic eggspectation.

After the announcement, Poultry of Albany workers scrambled to arrange a meeting with KFC representatives to plan strike action over the proposed redundancies. Said one hen, "Poultry of Albany will be left with egg on their face when production stops; the neggative publicity and pressure this will eggcert on them will make them crack."

A flock of left-wing socialists circling the farm with placards speculated that Poultry of Albany had plans to poach a specialized team of point-of-lay Brown Shavers from a neighboring farm. Egged on by the rumours, angry union members told reporters that they would not be beaten by Poultry of Albany's capitalism: "The proposed lay-offs are just an eggscuse to avoid having to shell out for what really is a poultry increase in wages."

Pork, sage, apple and cheddar meatballs (in loving memory of Detective Inspector P Igg)

Detective Inspector P. Igg down at the
Stytion, in happier days.

FIVEACRES Stytion today mourned the passing of Detective Inspector P. Igg, shot and fatally stabbed in an altercation with Mr Farmer. Farmer, returning from his paper round, was seen entering the Sytion with a .22 calibre rifle. Paramedics arrived on the scene but were unable to revive Igg: "He was bleeding like a stuck pig."
At the funeral, held today, mourners were wallowing in misery. Igg's colleague Constable S. Wine said in her euology, "[Igg] could be a bit pig-headed at times, and he liked to hog the limelight and boar you with his work stories, but his heart was in the right place, and he was focused on bringing home the bacon. He was our best interrogator; he really gave the suspects a grilling."
Farmer, who does not like to mince words, was unavailable for comment. Investigators could not confirm a motive, although sources suggest the pair's relationship sowered after Igg told Farmer a porky. A memorial pignic will be held this Sunday.

Pork, sage, apple and cheddar meatballs

250g pork mince
3 T breadcrumbs
1/2 medium onion, finely chopped
3 T aged, bandaged goat cheddar*, finely grated
sprig of sage, finely chopped (about 4 leaves)
1 small apple, peeled and finely grated
1/2 t salt

Mix all ingredients together, and shape into four large-ish balls (their size helps retain moisture). Bake in a 150°C oven for 40 minutes. Serve warm.

* Don't be put off. The cheddar just enhances the flavor, it doesn't hog the limelight.