Dear Chicken Carcass

It saddens me to think that you preferred death by falling to death by mauling. I know you and your chicken friends probably clucked cheerfully as you were loaded onto the Tyson truck, believing you were going for a scenic drive. When the road turned into a highway, though, I imagine your little chicken brains began to question your assumptions. And then Chatty Chicken, the one who prides herself on knowing everything, began clucking that the end was near and you should all repent for the sins you committed during your short lives. And that's when you made your choice. You would rather risk road rash or death by flinging your feathered body from your gilded cage rather than face whatever horror awaited you at the end of your journey.

So you jumped.

And flopped.

Then smooshed.

I am sad, little beaked friend. You would have been tasty.