The year was 1986 and we were going to see Under the Cherry Moon, Prince's new movie. "We" was me, old man McCracken, and Penelope, my talking handgun.

We got to the theatre and it had been turned into a chicken coop. "Gol," says Old Man. "this durn wrecks my day."

Then out comes a chicken. he's 8 feet tall. "Dont worry. we're still showin the movie. C'mon in."

In we go. There's only 4 seats and they're all covered in bird dung, but s'okay. Down we sit and the movie starts. There's Prince shaking his tiny ass, singing Girls and Boys with the delectable Kristin Scott Thomas. She's so darn pretty that Old Man McCracken has a heart attack. Penelope tried administering CPR, but wound up shooting him in the heart instead. Blood everywhere. Old Man dies. Good thing, in the long run. After all, he ain't got a heart.

So we're at the climatic scene where Prince is pretending to die at the end and then Old Man McCracken's undead corpse stands up, like it's been animated by some black magic. At first I thought he was gonna eat my brains like in all those zombie movies, but instead he just sits down, grabs a chicken, and sticks it up his arsehole. Seconds later it comes out of his mouth, perfectly fried. He offered me a piece and gol, it tasted 76345 times better than KFC. I said we should open a franchise and Old Man says Hells yah. We call it Dead Man's Arsehole Fried Chicken. We're a Fortune 500 company now. Maybe you saw us on Oprah. (Penelope's our mascot.)

How it works is we bring in chickens, stuff it up Old Man's ass, and voila! He can do 16 chickens a second so it's pretty profitable. The college kids like it too. Only one problem, the chicken's poisonous. It kills you a week after eating it, but s'okay. You become a zombie and then you can stick chickens up your ass too.

Prince loves the chicken.