On any one day, the White Rooster would win and rule for a period and then several days later the Red Rooster would edge him out. This constant flux as to who was boss kept the Hens in a bad state of emotional health, not to mention their physical state. The reason for this was, the White Rooster demanded hard work of a minimum of seven eggs a week from each hen, while the Red Rooster was considered a devil-may-care sort as he didn't seem to care how many eggs were lain, just so long as he got to play with the chicks...that is... the hens. Ahem, you know what I mean.

Finally, it came to a grand show down. For days, their duel as to who was Master ended in a draw and the Hens were being ordered by both Roosters, each countermanding the other's order. So on the Grand Day, the Sun bloomed bright and hot while the two Roosters strutted the chicken yard. The Hens were bunched in one corner of the yard, awaiting the battle with much anxiety and feminine fear, while the two strutters paraded back and forth, but always keeping at least two or three feet apart.

"Look, Red," said the White Rooster, "It's about time we settled this affair. We either decide for ourselves or the Farmer will do it for us."

"I'll take my chances either way, Whitey," replied the Red Rooster. "If I lose to you and stay second best, that ol' Farmer is gonna chop a head off and it won't be the man in first place, so don't try to talk me into any compromise."

"It would be better for the Hen House, Red, if we were to end this today. Egg production is down from last week and the Hens don't look like they're in shape this week for any record production," said the White Rooster.

"If you'd quit crowing about record production," retorted the Red Rooster, "then perhaps they could relax and lay their daily egg, but NOOO, you keep harping away and make them edgy, so they can't."

"Me? Me, make them edgy," snapped the White Rooster, "It's not me, it's you. You don't give a damn about production, so they don't care and won't lay their quota."

"Just a damn slight minute, Whitey," the Red Rooster snapped back, "When I'm in charge, the Chicks lays real fine..."

"I'm not talking about that kind of lay," butted in the White Rooster, "I'm talking about eggs!"

"What the hell you think I'm talking about," shouted the Red Rooster . His pale red comb was bursting with red color now. "I'm referring to putting out with the goods."

"See! You can't even talk about eggs unless you put in pornographic terms," shouted the White Rooster back. "When you gonna grow up and be responsible?"

"Phonographic? I'm not talking pornography," yelled the Red Rooster as his feathers began to ruffle. "It's you who is. Your thinking it. Don't try to push your bleak mind on to me!"

"I didn't think it, you said it!" retorted the White Rooster as his feathers began to rise also.

"I didn't say a thing out of the way," bellowed the Red Rooster.

"The hell you never!" answered the Red Rooster and he leaped at the White Rooster with his spurs aimed at his head. The White Rooster leaped backwards to safety. Slowly the two circled each other, then with fury and spurs, lashed at each other. The fight raged into a bloody mess and finally both were too exhausted to continue.

"Give up?" panted the White Rooster.

"What'd ya mean, give up?" the Red Rooster panted back. "I'm not licked by a long shot."

The two lay on the ground for several minutes, not saying anything. Then they both got up and began their circling again.

"Look, Red," the White Rooster finally said. "We're not getting anywhere like this. This isn't going to settle who gets the top rung."

"All right," replied the Red Rooster. "Why don't you step out of the way and let me take charge?"

"Ha!" exclaimed the White Rooster. "If I let that happen, then the Hens wold never get any work done and they would end up in a stew pot before the snow fell."

"They would lay more eggs with me as Master," said the Red Rooster, "than with you. I know how to make them feel that its worthwhile."

"You saying I don't know how to do that?" asked the White Rooster. "They had a record peak when I was in charge."

"Yeah!" responded the Red Rooster, "but they never enjoyed doing it. They told me so. They like doing it with me in charge."

"Don't get vulgar again!"demanded the White Rooster. "We're talking about egg production, remember?"

"Egg production, hell!" stormed the Red Rooster with a fury of anger. "I'm talking about what's best for the Hens. All you can think about is EGG PRODUCTION!"

"What do you think the Farmer thinks about?" asked the White Rooster. "He wants eggs and he wants them every day."

"But he doesn't want neurotic eggs!" shouted the Red Rooster.

"Neurotic eggs?" questioned the White Rooster. "How can an egg be neurotic?"

"How do you think you got that way?" the Red Rooster shot back.

With that remark, the White Rooster shot his spurs at the Red Rooster and once again the fight raged. Before the two knew what really happened, they were in a gunny sack being shipped to the poultry market. As they lay crowded together, they continued their fight.

"I told you if we didn't settle this ourselves, the Farmer would do it for us." the White Rooster wailed.

"If you weren't so hard headed, you dumb knothead," retorted the Red Rooster, "we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Me? Hard headed?" sniped the White Rooster. "I had the right to rule. You're the interloper.!"

"You had no such right." yelled the Red Rooster. "Just because there's more White Hens than Red Hens doesn't give you any such right!"

"My Father was Ruler and Master," returned the White Rooster, "and that gives me the right!"

"Like Hell," cursed the Red Rooster. "He wasn't liked anymore than you were!"

So the Argument continued as the truck drove them to market, and it continued as they were weighted-in and it still continued as their heads were being placed on the block.

Meanwhile, at the Farm, the Hens found themselves to be without a Master. At first they thought "who's to tell us what to do?", but strangely, they knew what to do...and they turned out a record production each and every day in peace and quite.

Copyright 2007 by C.D. Goosen

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Unfortunately, power can also destroy.