Foghorn Leghorn and the Egghead Jr. are at the edge of the barnyard engaged in a contest to see who can make it rain. Foghorn is dressed in a Native American rain costume, while Egghead Jr., is building a model airplane.
Foghorn- “Well, I say Boy. This ancient injun dance is sure to bring heavy drops of rain.”
Foghorn performs a rain dance while Egghead Jr. completes his model airplane.
Foghorn- “Just you wait there Boy. It is sure to rain now.”
The sun continues to shine as Egghead Jr. launches his remote controlled plane into the sky. The plane releases a compound of gases which turn into a mini thundering raincloud. Of course the clouds proceeds to float directly over the head of Foghorn and releases its fury in the form of thunder, rain and lightning, drenching and torching the chicken from head to toe.
Foghorn (without the Southern accent): “That’s it! I can’t do this anymore. Egghead Jr., get your little ass over here.”
Egghead Jr. obeys Foghorn.
Foghorn- “I am going to teach you some respect.”
Foghorn throws Egghead Jr. over his leg and gives him a thorough spanking.
Foghorn- “Now, go and find something constructive to do. Missy, get out here.”
Egghead Jr. runs off to play while the spinster hen Missy appears before Foghorn from the hen house.
Foghorn- “I’ve had it. This is the final straw. I have third degree burns all over my body and my ego is completely ruined. Getting lucky with you is not worth dealing with the kid anymore. I’m calling the plastic surgeon like we talked about last week. You are going to become hot.”
Missy is petrified and stands still with her beak wide open.
Foghorn- “And lose those glasses. Haven’t you ever heard of contact lenses. (mutters) Damn single mothers!”
Half of Foghorn’s charred lower beak falls to the ground. Foghorn simply stares at Missy while folding his arms and tapping his leg.
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