Doctor Frankenstein, that guy was a swine, the way he treated nature’s dictum not to mess with the divine.
Crazy chicken arrived, he weren’t takin’ no jive. And he told the evil doctor that it was his time.
He had to face his fate. Time was running late. He had done things diabolical at an accelerating rate.
The gun hammer cocked, and doc’s world was rocked. His heart raced and then was silent just like a stopped clock.
And Frank’s Monster stirred. His world now disturbed. And his countenance revealing his emotions perturbed.
So the chicken fled. Trying to save his head. ‘Cause it was extremely clear that Franky wanted him dead.
So the story goes. And well, gosh, who knows? It could certainly be true since here it is in prose.
And if you should doubt, rest assured I will not pout. Cause I know it sounds absurd but you should check it out.
It’s there in the book. Yeah, just take a look. It’s on page Six Hundred Twelve, so don’t call me a Mook!