Little Z, Wonder Niece and I were summoned to the post office this morning to pick up fifty baby roosters. The roosters' fate is meant to be for the dinner plate.
A few hours after we had them settled in, I mused that, if we were to keep them all and not actually eat them, we would have quite a mess of roosters on our hands.
"But you could have them fight each other and sell tickets!" said the Wonder Niece.
Which, I couldn't help but point out, would make us quite the unique operation:
ORGANIC FREE RANGE COCK FIGHTING!