Barnaby the rooster, renowned throughout the farmyard for his surprisingly accurate imitation of Chuck Norris’s gruff voice (a talent he’d honed by watching old action movies on Farmer McGregor’s forgotten VCR), had a problem. His prize-winning, golden-yolked eggs, destined for the county fair, had been stolen! Suspicion immediately fell on Henrietta, the sly hen known for her insatiable appetite and even more insatiable greed.
“Henrietta!” Barnaby boomed, his voice a perfect Chuck Norris impersonation. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Where are my eggs?”
Henrietta clucked nervously, pecking at the ground. “I… I… haven’t seen them, Barnaby.” She squinted innocently, a tiny feather twitching on her head.
Barnaby narrowed his eye, adopting his best “Roundhouse Kick” stance. “Your denials are as convincing as a vegetarian’s steak dinner, Henrietta. I’ve already checked the usual hiding places – behind the tractor, under Old MacDonald’s overalls…even inside the scarecrow.”
Suddenly, a faint squeaking came from behind the barn. Barnaby, with a mighty Cluck Norris-esque battle cry, burst through the chicken wire, only to find a family of field mice frantically stuffing their cheeks with his golden-yolked treasures.
“You…you thieving little…” Barnaby sputtered, momentarily speechless. He then sighed, completely deflated. “Well, at least they have good taste.” He added with a chuckle, “Looks like my egg-splosive heist was foiled by a bunch of…mouseketeers.”
