My scrumptious chicken
I’d like you to imagine a warm chicken sitting on a wooden table ready to be eaton. Is the chicken alive or dead? Whispers of the wind inhale into the chicken to make it cooler. As 9 hours pass, the chicken became cold, 10 hours, colder, 11 hours, FREEZING! The icy snow from outside leaks into the deadly, cold chicken…!
Always respect the chicken.
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