Rounding up the Cheerleaders I was surprised that they all wanted to take part in a magic trick. Asking the seven girls to stay on the back deck I went to find Brad. He was at the front door telling the last of the couples to meet at the Burger Pants Grill, (Home of the Whopper).
Closing the door he turned to me and asked, "Well now what?"
I smiled and told him all seven of the Cheerleaders were willing and on the deck. First Brad needed to get his act ready to meet some hot chicks. I told him to strip and then stand on his tiptoes with arms straight out to each side. Closing his eyes he was ready.
I made a wish and spinning on my heels I said, "Brad as your hair is red so shall you take all those chicks to your bed."
As Brad opened his eyes he tried to exclaim his disgust. A fine looking six foot tall Rhode Island Red rooster stood in full feathers and beek.
I opened the French doors to the deck and his flock came into view. Seven very willing slender and Nymphomanic hens stood licking their beeks for sex.
Brad headed for his flock and feathers flew as the Nympho-hens went wild for Brads small rooster dic. I laughed as he began to strut about acting more like a rooster with each passing minute. The scurry of hens following him as they clucked madly.
As the sun rose of the far hills the hens when all screwed to sleep as Brad flew to the rooftop and began to crow. The sun's rays hit the big cock in the beek and his feathers began to fall out. Like long red snowflakes the feathers drifted down till only a naked young man sat straddling the crest of the roof.
As Brad climbed down his anger was still boiling mad till I walked him near his flock. Brad's smile returned as he saw each of the crazy for sex hen Cheerleaders sound asleep on a fare sized brown egg.