Jerry, I'm impressed. Hypnotizing chickens, eh.

Well, if you want to talk about animal husbandry, or was that animal flimflammary?
You see about 10 years ago I took one of my children to one of the last circuses still under tent. It was the real thing, you know, roustabouts and tatooed ladies and the dog-faced boy who doubled as a fire-eater and barker for the Mystic Ladies of the Nile and all the animal smells you can imagine. Anyway we got there a bit early and were drifting around the tents, digging the scene, when we came upon the elephant area. So we stop to watch a guy give a bath to an absolutely gigantic bull elephant. He's washing him down with a fire hose, and the elephant seems to like it. But then the guy goes around behind the elephant, lifts the pachyderm's tail and shoves the fire hose up the elephant back stairs, so to speak, and turns on the water. Well, pretty soon the elephant starts to trumpet and stamp and look extremely annoyed and the guy yanks out the fire hose. Holy mackeral you should have seen the shit fly. It shot out twenty feet if it was an inch and just covered this poor guy from head to foot. He goes over to a pump starts washing off his face. We're still watching, somewhat awed by now, and not a little disgusted, when suddenly I realize I know this guy. It's Stevey Dodson, with whom I was a boy back in school. So I go over to him and said, "Hello, Stevie, it is I, Chance from back home". He looks up in surprise, wiping the effluvium from his neck and ears, and says right back, "Well, Chance, I'll be damned, how are you?" "Fine, Stevie," I say, "but great time of day, man, can't you find a better job than giving elephants enemas?"

And Stevie, he says to me: "What? And give up SHOW BUSINESS?" <

cheers, Chance