Assault On The Wooden Box

The farmer thought he was safe

Sitting alone in his wooden box.

Reading guns and ammo magazine

In nothing but his socks.

Page 20 was intriguing

All about buck lures and such.

He was deep in thought and daydreaming

With the world, he was out of touch.

The animals were getting restless

The Pig demanded to know more.

What on earth is he doing in there?

What is so great behind that door?

The cow for once was cautious

Something just didn't smell right.

The chickens of course were drunk

And we're getting ready for a fight.

They suggested many things

They had ways to make him talk.

Their list was long and exhaustive

And sure to make that man squawk.

Dynamite would surely do it

Or a frontal assault with a grenade.

But the cow had remembered the consequences

Of the previous plans that were laid.

He wanted to wait and see

The farmer would come out in time.

All they had to do was sit there

And the answers would all be sublime.

Hours upon hours they stood by

Until it appeared that this day was ill-fated.

The animals would never get to know however

What would have happened if they had all waited.

The chickens had been patient

And they felt that to wait was just wrong.

The curiosity was driving them mad

They had waited for the farmer too long.

They began with a frontal assault

Using small arms and an assortment of knives

Everyone else went for cover

Running and fearing for their lives.

The farmer retreated from his box

Exiting with magazines in hand.

Coming face to face in his socks

With the chickens making a stand.

The barnyard was quiet after that

Somehow the Farmer was the winner.

And as for the militia of Chicken

They spent their evening at dinner.

The moral of the tale is plain

When the Farmer is doing his work.

Leave him alone in his little wooden box

Let him be and don't act like a jerk.