
This to announce that, for the repeated infraction of injuring hens of the current generation for no apparent reason, Principal Seymour Skinner has been referred for a separation counseling conference with the Gulch’s personnel director for avian affairs, Chicken Jesus.
You talk and talk till you’re blue in the face and they just won’t listen. It’s as if they can’t even understand what you’re saying. Finally you just gotta shoot’em in the head and eat’em.
















































See ya Seymour!
I told ya. No need.
Sure hope you have access to a pressure cooker. Might be the best use of your time and firewood and propane to just shoot, shovel and shut up.
The thought occurred to me, Zelda, and in fact in the last old-hen slaughter I only butchered out two of them. RIRs aren’t good roasters. In Seymour’s case it seemed like a sin to waste the meat, but you’re right: pressure cooker. And yes, I do have one.
Oh,
“Principal Seymour Skinner”,
I was just gittin’ to know of ya,
and becomin’
sympathetic to your cruel trials.
Now I hear this…
May you rule in that other place where you go.
“You talk and talk till you’re blue in the face and they just won’t listen. It’s as if they can’t even understand what you’re saying. Finally you just gotta shoot’em in the head and eat’em”
If only I could solve my problems that way…
axe works good to get seymours attention one last time. Chicken Soup is on the menu.
May we assume that Seymour’s mortal coil has been dully unwound by now?
How are the ladies coping with the loss of Seymour? Usually one of the hens will take over as Leader, hopefully without the associated former personal violence that got Seymour offed.
They’re still a bit freaked out by the end of the Seymour episode. I feel bad, now, for having given him the opportunity to spread mayhem. He didn’t take his capture, demotion and pending execution in a manly fashion, and they’re still kind of stirred up.