Actual phone conversation with my mother earlier today, whilst I was tromping in the field [some parts have been translated]:
Mom: You got any more chicken? I need more egg.
Noony: I didn’t think you wanted anymore because you had all those new ones hatch. So I didn’t put your name on the list, and now all the chickens are probably claimed. But if there are any left at the end, I will get one or two for you.
Mom: Oh. Okay, just asking. If you can, bring more for me. You know, I had to get rid of that Cash boy (Casanova, her first rooster).
Noony: Uh…really? Why?
Mom: He too mean. He always fighting everybody and fighting me too. I get mad, you know. He really hurt my leg this time, and I got rid of him.
Noony: Oh, gosh. Well… did he taste good at least?
Mom: Not sure. Pa said he taste pretty good. I only eat his ankle and foot, the one he used to hit me. I still have bad hurt on my leg, it’s really throbbing. But anyway, yeah…get some more for me, if you can.
And that’s the story of Casanova’s demise.