“Hey, Doodles, check out my dance moves!” exclaims Disco, swagging her hips and snapping her fingers. “It’s the chicken dance. Getting ready for Maybel and June’s wedding. Join me!”
Doodles frowns. “Isn’t that appropriation? I mean, did you even ask Guard Chicken for the licensing rights?”
Disco stops in her tracks. “Oh no! Please don’t tell him, I’m already on his bad side for plucking a feather out when he wasn’t looking.”
“Why in the world did you do that?” asks Doodles, slapping his forehead.
“To see if it was true—that nothing gets him ruffled, even a ruffling!” Crossing her arms over her chest, she adds, “And I’m happy to report that nothing upsets that guy! Best Guard Chicken ever.”
“You might’ve been just the teensiest bit off in your interpretation on the ruffling front,” says Doodles. Looping his arm through hers, he ushers her toward the kitchen. “Come on, let’s grab a glass of chocolate milk. I’ve been waiting to see if that brown cow was going to deliver the goods!”