FollowupID: 538250 Submitted:
Sunday, Dec 02, 2007 at 09:08
Bega Photographer posted:
Oh Daza! It brought tears to my eyes, Mate, as I imagined the modern day equivalent at Surfers Paradise. I couldn't stop laughing enough to get through reading it to the missus.
So Dad gets a squwarking chook out of the wooden crate, probably in the shade of a tree.
Dad takes the axe in his right hand and proceeds to the tree stump.
One good blow and the chook's head falls to the ground.
Dad lets go of the struggling chook which then races round the immediate area of the caravan park, banging into anything in it's path, with blood flying everywhere.
Eventually the chook drops and Dad picks it up.
Dad carries the chook over to the tent and starts the plucking and gutting.
When finished Dad raps up the feathers, guts and head in news paper and sends you to the old 44 gallon bin with the mess.
Wouldn't go down too well these days, huh?