The Chicken Feed

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Episode 279

A story by Alastair Craig.

I’ve lost my remote control.

And this time, it’s personal.

Episode 279

A story by Ben K.

I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water with a hint of orange juice for my vitamin C at precisely two in the morning, and who should I see but no-one! Conspiracy, or something more?

This isn’t the first time I’ve lost it. It all started three hundred and sixty-four days after a family gathering exactly one year ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. Kids these days have no respect for their remote controls. Back in ‘Nam, this very remote control was the only friend I had. The following week the Nambour Hotel rang me up and asked for their remote back. One lengthy court injunction and a large fine later, I was given legal ownership of the remote. Sure, I was forced to sell my house and accept a generous offer to move in with Aussie Ben (and my, was he surprised), but it was a small price to pay for the channel-changing reliability only a remote control could offer. I felt a brisk breeze and wondered what I’d done with my pants.

Like a character in a poorly written story that carelessly jumps between past to present tense, I continued my search. I spotted a nearby telephone and picked it up. After a while, it became obvious this wasn’t achieving anything, and it would be much more useful to use it. I picked up the receiver and pressed a random speed-dial button. For reasons unknown to me, was greeted by the Road Manager of the moderately successful Japanese pop group “Glay”. I hung up. I did it again, just to be safe. I examined the phone, only to find it wasn’t a phone, but a cat. I returned it to the fridge and continued my search. Where oh where could my remote control be?

Oh wait, never mind. I’ve found it.

…But why is it soaking wet?

I blundered my way to the dark to the kitchen to find myself the light switch. On the way there, my heart leapt into my mouth as the floor’s surface changed from a cold, tile to a warm, soft fabric. Slowly, but carefully, I turned on the kitchen light, and then I picked up Happybob’s pyjama pants, wondering why he’d left them here from the previous week.

After carefully stuffing Happybob’s pants down the front of my own pyjama top for a kind of substandard comfort, I made my way to the kitchen tap. I’d already picked up a glass from the table to fill. I was just about to pour some water into the glass, when I realised that there was already something in there! It was a remote control! And someone had already filled my glass with water and just a hint of orange juice – just the way that I liked it! Something highly dubious was occuring, and I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t find out what it was.

I recalled the past few minutes’ events – entering the kitchen, walking across tiles, feeling pants, turning on light, putting said pants down shirt front, walking to tap, pouring water, realising that something was in the glass…oh, damn, I’m back here again, aren’t I? Yes, you idiot. Surely you realised the whole point of this backtracking thing? No, what was that? It was to find out why there was a glass of water with a hint of orange juice with a remote in it. Oh? And why is that? Because you got up earlier and made yourself a glass of water with a hint of orange juice and put the remote in it. Then you forgot to drink it. Oh. Righto. Thanks for that. Anytime.

I took out the remote and drank the water. Mmmm, good stuff that. Then I realised there was no-one around and it was now four in the morning. I went off to bed.

And so solved…

The Mystery of the Unsolved Crime

Next Episode: The Mystery of the Otherwise Intelligent Person Who Thought Adam Sandler Was Funny

And so solved…

The Mystery of the Delicate Brown Toadstool

Next Episode: The Mystery of the Coffee With Two Extra Sugars In It

More Mysteries on ThatChickenSite.com

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