Charlie came home drunk one night, collapsed into bed beside his sleeping wife and fell into a deep slumber.
When he awoke he was standing in front of the Pearly Gates where St Peter said, “You died in your sleep, Charlie.”
Charlie was shocked. “I’m dead? No, I can’t be! I’ve got too much to live for. Send me back!”
St Peter said, “I’m sorry, but there’s only one way you can go back, and that is as a chicken.”
Charlie was devastated but begged St Peter to send him to a farm somewhere near his home.
The next thing he knew he was in a farmyard, covered with feathers, clucking, and pecking the ground.
A cock strolled past. “So, you’re the new hen, eh? How’s it going?”
“Not bad,” replied Charlie, “but I have this odd feeling inside. Like I’m going to explode!”
“You’re ovulating,” explained the cock. “Don’t tell me you’ve never laid an egg before.”
“Never,” said Charlie.
“Well, just relax and let it happen,” says the cock. “It’s no big deal.”
Charlie did as the cock said and a few very uncomfortable seconds later, out popped an egg.
Charlie was overwhelmed as he experienced motherhood for the first time. He soon laid another egg, and then another. His joy was overwhelming.
Just he was about to lay his fourth egg, he felt a smack on the back of his head, and heard his wife shout, “For fuck’s sake, Charlie! Wake up you drunken bastard. You’ve shat the bed!”
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