ffr 159-compressed and made into processed chicken
"All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players." — William Shakespeare
"I can resist everything except temptation." — Oscar Wilde
"When you come to a fork in the road, take it." — Yogi Beara
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To Our Beloved Comrades in Chaos,
It is a truth universally acknowledged (or at least grudgingly observed) that the most spectacular sagas begin with a misfired missile. In our case, the launching of a javelin by the precocious yet tragically misdirected high school sophomore Trevor. With the reckless grace of an Athenian novice and the precision of a tipsy Cupid, he dispatched his spear into the flank of a volunteer fudge striper’s van—during none other than the zany “Sweets & Spears” fundraiser.
Enter Marge: a woman whose very existence had been seeped in such profound ennui that vehicular calamity was hardly a shock. With an air of resigned indifference that might chill the spines of lesser mortals, she inspected the damage and mused, “Thus, my final act shall be to be impaled by a teenager’s flagrant lapse in judgment.”
Meanwhile, our resident beacon of semi-motivational inertia—affectionately known as “The Gary”—held court with a bag of Doritos. In the midst of crunching and quasi-prophetic murmuring, he offered his verdict: “You miss every shot you never take—but then again, why bother with the shooting when the snacks are so irresistible?”
Thus, by decree of the literary bureaucrats (still smarting from our previous escapade involving a recipe for “Ethereal Eggplant Surprise” that incited a spontaneous, reverse recitation of Gertrude Stein), these three unlikely protagonists were ordered forthwith to produce Issue 159 of the Fowl Feathered Review. Their task? To conjure prose that would be less inclined to rip asunder the delicate fabric of reality—an edict nearly as absurd as persuading wisdom from a papier-mâché rhinoceros.
And so it came to pass that, with Trevor’s javelin lodged stubbornly as a relic in Marge’s van-like chariot, our trio embarked upon the Herculean adventure of creative mayhem. Trevor, verily a wordsmith of gym-class excuses, spilled a torrent of nonsensical profundities onto the page. Marge, mixing meticulous pragmatism with the finesse of haggling over paper stock and stirring celestial vats of fudge, marshaled the chaos with a reluctant grace. The Gary, ever the connoisseur of crunchy inspiration, intermittently abandoned his Dorito reverie only to deliver missives of motivational ambiguity.
Within the ensuing pages—indeed, within this labyrinth of literature—you shall uncover delights such as:
• A sonnet composed entirely in the cryptic lingua franca of emojis (because words, like javelins, are sometimes best left unspoken),
• A tale of a sentient toaster who, upon discovering the tyranny of tepid bread, launched a political revolution,
• And a recipe for “Existential Pancakes” so potent that a bite might send you careening into a delirious reverie about free will, syrup, and the cosmic comedy of it all.
Accompanying these printed oddities is a mixtape featuring such auditory curios as “Polka in the Key of Despair” and “Smooth Jazz for the Recalcitrant”—melodies that, like our hearts, grin in the face of the absurd.
So, dear compatriot in chaos, we urge you to disseminate this wondrous aberration among friends, foes, and that enigmatic neighbor who perpetually misplaces your lawnmower. In a world where javelins soar, fudge simmers, and motivational catchphrases are dispensed with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, the only recourse left to us is to guffaw, guffaw heartily, and perhaps even guffaw in the face of destiny.
LINK:
MIXTAPE: https://rave.dj/ZcXJ2iI4GmhyIw
Yours, in perpetual bewilderment and irreverent high spirits,
Virgil Kay
Editor,
Rooster,
China Wok Habitué
P.S. Should the sheer absurdity of this issue overwhelm your sensibilities, take a moment to savor a morsel of fudge and remember: even if life’s javelin seems to miss its mark, it invariably finds you—with all the subtlety of a well-aimed pun.
