Talking heads said to another,

“Quiet, we wish to hear him speak,”

“Me quiet, why you talk so much the walls have forgotten more secrets than you were told,”

“Bah! Enough, I keep secrets just fine, mind…”

“Just the other day you were telling Old Man Worm that the bird woke up early and had found his hiding hole for the second day of May,”

Rolling it’s eyes the statue made a rather obnoxious scratching sound,

Putting his hands up to his ear, “please stop that at once!”

“You mean could you please stop asking us which door the chicken is behind,” replied the first head.

“Yeah, you men are all the same trying to find that eternal clucking hen.”

Sigh he put his hands to his temples, standing still dressed in a blue and black flannel jacket, blue jeans, mismatched football socks, and battered baseball team cap. “I haven’t asked my question yet.”

“Well who is stopping you,” asked head two?

“You are! It’s you, both of you, with exasperation the man fumed.

“It isn’t us, none of us said you couldn’t ask a question, we were only explaining that men recently have been asking a lot about the hen on the other side, see the farmer…”

“I don’t care about the farmer, now if you would please let me ask…”

“Ask away, no one is keeping you,” replied head one.

“But you are!”

“No neither of us are, but you are, so correct sir, everyone applaud this very correct individual, he should win an award,” both heads said in sync.

Flustered, frustrated, and foozeballzelled, the man putting his fingers to the bridge of his nose strolled to the Eastern door, flung it open, stepping over the threshold falling to another Universe.

“If he had only asked, I would of told him the chicken was to the West,” said head one shaking it’s head.