Tom did like he always does, kissing his wife, crawling into bed and falling to sleep. All of a sudden, he wakes up with an elderly man dressed in a white robe standing in front of his bed.
“What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?… and who are you?” he asked.
“This is not your bedroom,” the man replied, “I am St. Peter, and you are in heaven.”
“WHAT! Are you saying I’m dead? I don’t want to die! I’m too young,” said Tom. “I want you to send me back immediately.”
“It’s not that easy”, said St.Peter. “You can only return as a dog or a hen. The choice is your own.”
Tom thought about it for a while, and figured out that being a dog is too tiring, but a hen probably has a nice and relaxed life. Running around with a rooster can’t be that bad.
“I want to return as a hen,” Tom replied.
And in the next second, he found himself in a chicken run, really nicely feathered. But now he felt like his rear end was going to blow. Then along came the rooster.
“Hey, you must be the new hen St. Peter told me about,” he said. “How do you like being a hen?”
“Well, OK, I guess, but it feels like my ass is about to explode.”
“Oh, that!” said the rooster. “That’s only the ovulation going on. You need to lay an egg.”
“How do I do that?” Tom asked.
“Cluck twice, and then you push all you can.”
Tom clucked twice and pushed more than he was good for, and then ‘plop’ an egg was on the ground.
“Wow” Tom said. “That felt fantastic!” So he clucked again and squeezed. And you better believe that there was yet another egg on the ground. The third time he clucked, he heard his wife shout:
“Tom, for Christ’s sake! Wake up! You’re shittin’ all over the bed!”
