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Then Billy came in and the teacher asked what he did. 'I played in the sandbox with Susie,' he said. 'If you can spell sand, I'll give you a cookie,' the teacher said. So Billy did.
Then the little Russian boy said, 'Well, I wanted to play in the sandbox, but Billy and Susie were throwing rocks at me.'
The teacher said, 'Well, that sounds like discrimination. If you can spell that, I'll give you a cookie.'
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He stepped on the gas but at 50 miles per hour. The chicken was still keeping up. After about a mile of running the chicken ran up a farm lane and into a barn behind an old farm house.
The salesman had some time to kill so he turned around and drove up the farm lane. He knocked at the door and when the farmer answered he told him what he had just seen.
The farmer said that he was a geneticist and had developed this breed of chicken because he, his wife and his son each like a drumstick when they have chicken and this way they only have to kill one chicken.
"That's the most fantastic thing I've ever heard," said the salesman. "How do they taste?"
"I don't know," said the farmer. "We've never caught one."
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Dad replied 'That's Grandpa!"
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