Once there was a man who loved chicken wings. He loved them so much he made a plate of the most beautiful succulent chicken wings in the world and brought them to the local vicar and said “I love these chicken wings so much that I want to marry them.”
The vicar was reluctant but could see that the man truly loved the chicken wings and so he agreed to marry them right there on the spot. That day the man married the most beautiful plate of chicken wings in the world, and dressed them in veils of the finest blue cheese.
That night the man and his chicken wings left for their honeymoon. When they arrived at their destination the man turned to the wings and said “for so long I have searched and now that I have found you I want you to know that you have made me so happy. Chicken wings I love you.” And with that the man consummated the marriage by eating the entire plate of wings.
When he was done he was left with a plate of bones. There wasn’t even so much as a little bit of hot sauce or blue cheese left, just the bones which he stacked neatly as he rubbed his satisfied belly and wiped his face with a wet nap. “You were even more delicious than I could have ever imagined. Chicken wings you have truly fulfilled me.”
But the chicken wings did not respond, and sat on the plate like the stack of bones that they were. “Is everything okay chicken bones?” But there was no response. And though their glorious relationship had only begun, the man realized now that what had once been a beautiful plate of wings would now always be just a big plate of bones. In his hunger he had taken the best of the wings for himself and left nothing.
The man realized what he had done and began to cry. “My God what have I done? I’ve gone and eaten the whole plate and now my precious wings are gone forever.” He had married a plate of crispy, juicy wings which he had in no time reduced to a plate of dry, brittle bones. He had no one to blame but himself. And so in the scant light of the crescent moon the man cried. He cried and the hot tears flowed down his face, spilling over the bones. The only witness to his plight was the moon.
“WHY?! WHY WAXING MOON DID THEY HAVE TO LOOK SO DELICIOUS?!” But the moon had no answer, and only reminded him of the blue cheese bowl that the man had adorned his beloved chicken wings with earlier that day.
And from that day forward the man could never look at the moon without shedding a tear for his departed chicken wings, and the remaining plate of bones that could never love him back.
©2009 – 2018 Chris Dwyer