Kentucky Fried Chicken

It just so happens that I got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning.
I had been lying, prone and dead to the world, when all of a sudden, and to my complete dissatisfaction, I was awoken by a loud, self-serving ‘Top of the Morning to You’ aimed directly at me.  It was coming from an easterly direction, from behind the neighbour’s fence. I knew who the culprit was immediately, for it was none other than that retard cockerel, Foghorn Leghorn.  
 
I needed to get the Hell out of my room, so I slipped on a freshly starched White Collar, and staggered outside, with my belly growling.  I needed to find me some fast food, and quickly.    
 
Once again, I was hit by a booming ‘Top of the Morning to You’. That just increased my irritation, and made me upset. I was developing a bad headache, so it was time to put a stop to Foghorn’s noise.  
 
I leapt over the fence and banged on his backdoor.  The door swung open, and Forghorn stood there and smiled at me, all rippling feathers, with an afro comb up through a thatch of bright red dreads. I could see that he was packing, so I pulled out every weapon at my disposal, unsheathing my claws and bearing my teeth.  He was under attack. We both lost control and I looked him deep in the eyes, then deeper.    
 
He was clearly insane, and would stop at nothing.  I recalled many such cases from the past using my photographic memory, trying to figure out why this guy was acting crazy. The fight went on and on. It kept on going. I then realized he was too big for me. I decided I would have to get one over him, but at that point, he had grown too tired to fight back.  We were both running out of time and the struggle had made us weak.  
 
Eventually, I burst his bubble.  I was negligent and almost pierced his skin with the edge of a blade of grass. I had gone too far, and I knew it was time to leave. The sun beat down on us both, and it's heat was scorching.  
 
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