A dialogue concerning certain theories which may or may not be all they’re cracked up to be.

“Why are you twitching?”
“Shit, man! I’m twitching because I figured it out. I get it now. I get it. Yo comprendo.”
“You figured what out?”
“Chickens, man. Chickens. I understand them. Their secrets are mine.”
“Chickens?”
“Yeah, chickens. I slipped my head into the chicken coop, and it was all feathery, and I heard the chickens gossipping. I heard their chicken talk. I stole their little chickenny plans and gobbled them up so my brain is filled with feathers now. Feathers and truth. Chicken-truth. They can confound me no longer.”
“I wasn’t aware chickens were so complex to begin with.”
“That’s becuase you’re ignorant, man! You’re fucking ignorant! You’re like a child licking an electrical socket, just because your parents ain’t told you different!”
“Right. Fuck that, then.”
“Hey, don’t go! Don’t go! Don’t you wanna hear it?”
“Hear what?”
“The chicken secrets! I know what’s what! My brain’s fucking poultry now!”
“Fine. What are the chicken’s secrets?”
“Alright. So. When we eat eggs, they’re unfertilized, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Right, so that means we’re just munching on chicken menstruation for breakfast every morning, right?”
“Oh, gross! Christ man, I’m not going to sit here just so you can spew your trash, Jesus…”
“No, wait! Wait! So we’re eating the chicken menstruation, right?”
“Right, right… What about it?”
“You sound annoyed, don’t you wanna know?”
“No, not particularly, to be honest. Look, I’ll be on my way, I just thought you looked sick.”
“Wait, I am sick! We’re all sick! We’re sick because the chickens made us that way!”
“Come again?”
“Yeah! Because we eat the chicken menstruation. We soak it up and we take it away and we send it to Denny’s and we slam as grand as we can, man. But don’t you know what that makes us?”
“Hungry?”
“Giant. Waling. Tampons. We’re just big ol’ chickenny feminine hygiene products, and we’re the grossest kind there is. And we’re that way because the chickens need us to be that way.”
“The chickens need us to be that way?”
“Yeah. There ain’t no God or no Darwin or any of that. There’s just a whole mess a chickens that hatched a couple folk one day and made them start gulpin’ down their feminine waste. It’s all a big joke, we’re all being used as slaves by the chickens.”
“…”
“Hey! Hey! Put down that damn phone! I’m not going to hurt you!”
“Hello, 911? There’s this crazy man here with me and he’s been mumbling a lot about- CHRIST! FUCKING HELL, MAN!”
“I’m sorry man, but I couldn’t let you make that call. They listen. Your fingers will grow back.”
“Fingers don’t do that! Oh Christ, oh Christ I’m losing blood fast… Oh sweet…”
“You’ll be fine, shut up. Now I know you don’t believe me, but think about this. What do we do with tampons when we’re done with them?”
“M…my wife flushes hers… I can’t feel my arm anymore…”
“Exactly right, man. Global warming? Global flooding? The chickens don’t need us anymore. There’s more of us than need their eggs, that’s why we eat them, now. We didn’t before, we just tell ourselves we did so we can survive. So we can feed the chicken-monkey on our back. And the chickens don’t like that. If we can’t break the addiction, man, we’re all gonna get flushed.”
“You’re insane…”
“Yeah, but I’m dry.“