Chainsaw Chicken stood at the dresser mirror, tugging at the floppy horns stitched onto his cow suit. He straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and gave his best attempt at a “moo.”
Behind him in the glass, Mrs. Chicken appeared, arms crossed, expression sharp enough to cut the stitching.
“Are you supposed to be a cow,” she asked flatly, “or just a cow pie with sleeves?”
Chainsaw adjusted his horns again, pretending not to hear. “It’s Halloween. People expect scary. This? This is terrifying.”
Mrs. Chicken shook her head. “Yes. Terrifyingly stupid.”
Chainsaw exhaled proudly, staring at his reflection. “Finally. Nailed it….. Moo!”