A stolen conscience lays eggs of guilt in the bird-brain of a murderous hick. Does he grow a beard out of lost hope? Rural pride? Subconscious killer-victim role reversal? The real tragedy of course is that no one remains to let the chicken out of her coop to go free range once again. Perhaps SHE is the real victim of her own murderous rage? All I can say is, those last 'poks' speak volumes.
Or were they the effects of a badly written story...or was it all a big pratical yoke? I read your words in my best Rod Serling voice and it works perfectly.
i like the way he chats to himself in this one. dialogue is so tough isn`t it.
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