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SONG CHALLENGE WINNER!
The Song Challenge:
Chicken Of The Living Dead? -- Kay Martin, a secretary to a New Zealand MP, got the fright of her life a few weeks ago.
According to the Auckland Sunday Star, she and a friend were chatting over a drink when they heard a chicken squawking.
The bird sounded in some distress, so they went outside to investigate, thinking perhaps that it had escaped from one of the
neighbors. But, there were no chickens anywhere. Then Martin realized with horror that the sound was coming
from her own kitchen - coming, in fact, from the oven, where she had put a chicken in to roast half an hour earlier.
"It was as if it was shrieking at me from its grave," she says. "It was so bizarre I just froze." As they
approached the oven, the squawking reached a crescendo. They took the tray out, and as the chicken began to cool,
the squawking died away. Martin chopped the neck off and threw it in the sink. She noticed that the vocal
chords were intact. "Steam was coming up the neck from the stuffing," says Martin, and this had caused the dead bird
to squawk. She has not cooked chicken since. P.S. TO ALL CHALLENGE!RS: If any of you are looking to qualify for the 'Two-Fer' Award (or better), check out SONG CHALLENGE! Part 8, Part 22, and Part 42 on the Song Challenge!s Past page, and see how you can work this Challenge! and one or more of these past hoo-haws into a song . . . It's a Double Dawg Dare, so ya can't turn it down! '-) -- Á.
The Flying Dutchman (Revised) by MMario
In the hot and gloomy galley on the Dutchman one dark night
When from a stiff nor'wester we had been in hurried flight
Like an infant in his cradle rocked, the cook was fast asleep
While peacefully we ploughed along the bosem of the deep
All at once our cook he gave a shout of terror and fear
As if he had just heard about some sudden danger near
We listened most intently and soon we all had heard
The ghastly ghostly cackle of a disembodied bird
Let out the flowing canvas, now, Van Dyck he loud did cry
For this to our ship's company great terror does betide
I'd rather that the billows toss, or all my topsmen sicken
Then hear again this dreadful cry, the ghostly ghastly chicken
On sped the Flying Dutchmen, cutting through the hissing spray
Pursued as if by tempest by that loud and cackling bray
And though the ship it sped along as if by tempest blown
Still faster came the ghostly sound, just like a rooster crowin'
Morn the Flying Dutchman, morn, for horrible it's doom
The ocean round the stormy Cape forever is its tomb
They must now eternal sail, but not for the cause of sin
Rather 'tis due to the captain's fear of the ghostly ghastly chicken.