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SONG CHALLENGE WINNER!

The Challenge:  From an Associated Press story of Wednesday, Feb. 16, 2000; describing the mysterious death of Violet, a Rhode Island Red chicken, in the village of Finchingfield, England.  Violet, who was insured for $1.5 million, was found dead outside her coop in December without a mark on her.  Suspects included the pub landlord, Mike Paviour, who disliked the way Violet bothered his customers and relieved herself everywhere, one of the village councilors, allegedly heard planning to wring Violet's neck after locals complained she was ruining the garden around the war memorial, or perhaps the stranger seen driving erratically in a van?  The late chicken's owner, who bought Violet and her sister, Ruby, as pets for her daughter, suspects foul play.   Simon Burgess, who arranged the insurance policy on Violet's life, says the policy will pay out only if it can be proven Violet was killed and eaten by councilors or abducted by aliens.

Violet At Dawn by Troll
(Tune:  Violets At Dawn)

Troll's Comments:  With profound apologies to Eric Andersen.

In the little town of Finchingfield there lived a hen one Violet by name. 
A pert Rhode Island Red her presence helped to give the little village fame. 
She'd daily preen her feathers in the mirror at the village antique store. 
But she doesn't preen them now because you see poor Violet isn't any more.

She used to sit upon a shelf down at the local public house each day. 
And decorate the floor beneath her perch but that is just a chickens way. 
She'd scratch for bugs around the village monument, a lofty cross of stone. 
But that's all in the past my friends because you see poor Violet is gone.

The village council met to talk about this chicken problem in the town. 
A member yelled "He'd wring her neck" then swore it was a joke and sat back down. 
And Violet kept on scratching never guessing what cruel future lay in store. 
But that's all in the past and gone because poor Violet isn't any more.

T'was early in the morning as the sun arose upon that fateful day. 
Her owners drank their morning tea and then, before they started on their way. 
They went out to unlock her coop so Violet's life of freedom could go on.
And they found her lifeless body lying stiff and still and cold as any stone.

They tried to find the killer but he'd done the deed and left no trace and gone.
The police investigated but there were no clues to base an arrest on. 
The story made the papers but it's months now and the mystery lingers on. 
And in Finchingfield no ones admitting knowing who killed Violet at dawn. 


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