To the Raccoon of the Chicken Massacre of ’88: That was very mean, what you did. And kind of gross. Do you remember what I’m talking about? OK, generally, the whole massacre situation could be construed as mean, but I’m specifically talking about the little black, elderly hen. She was the only black one in the lot, so you should remember. Her name was Red, and you pretty much bit her face off. Did you really have to go and do that? She was my brother’s chicken, so needless to say, he really didn’t appreciate it either. Actually, he’s pretty mad. I mean, I think he pretty much hates you. Yes, it was a very long time ago, but he still, to this day, reserves a blistering hole for you in the dark side of his heart. He was born in the year of the rooster, so maybe that has something to do with it. He really loved that chicken. So you might want to watch out. And you might want to warn your friends. I’m just trying to give you all fair warning. So consider yourselves warned. Sincerely, me.
materials: unused shoe insole, double-stick tape, hot glue, glue stick, cardboard scraps, Kleenex box, card stock, random textured paper, sticky note, brown packing paper, magazine ads, pill sleeve, sharpie pen, white watercolor pencil, acrylic paint, nylon thread, shelf liner scraps