Savage Chickens by Doug Savage for March 05, 2020

I want a car spring mounted in my back, be stuffed in my coffin, and then have my box propped up near the front door of an old folks home. Then, change my name to ‘Jack’.

A chicken rampant?

But after you’re stuffed, your family will either burn you or bury you.

“Prop me up beside the jukebox, when I die…”

And keep Colonel Sanders away.

Why is the chicken on the left wearing a suit, and the chicken on the right nekkid?

Just tan my hide when I’m dead, Fred.

Super Chicken?

We have stainless and gold fighting spurs with your choice of stone arrangements and assorted sizes.

An attack chicken???? Better have a KFC bucket on his head for a helmet. :)

I want my blood replaced with a plastic resin, then the flesh hydrolyzed away with acid; leaving a mesh of my body that can be mounted and passed down generation to generation.

My mother always said she wanted to be stuffed and put in a chair. Then rotated six months at my house and six at my sister’s. When she died, we jokingly mentioned it to the funeral home. I think the guy thought we were serious.