The Chicken Man
Once I was walking along the old, dusty road in front of the main street. The street was empty except for the usual postal service van and a few cycles. This was because it was a Sunday, the day when the rich go to casinos, and come back, not so rich, in the evening. Until then, the town is filled with the poor. You may ask who I am. They call me the chicken man.
Actually, I’m the one who delivers chicken to those who ordered it. My real name is Rahul.
Once I got a bizarre order. I had to deliver chicken worth 100kilograms. That’s a lot of chicken, by the way. It was probably by one of the rich people, but hundred kilos of chicken is too much.
So I was walking along the dusty road with my camper’s bag of chicken. I came to a big house with a bigger porch. But the rich people don’t give a hoot about plants, and so this porch was brown.
The house was empty. This was irritating. So I swung the bag and it crashed in to the window. Chicken is delivered. But on the porch, I saw something. I knew casinos worked with chips. I saw a chip in the grass. No, it was not a potato chip. This chip had a number on it. It was ‘one followed by six zeroes’!
I took it and dashed to the casino. I did not want to gamble. Redeeming it was enough for me. The man at the counter was not at all surprised to see the chip. In fact, he laughed at me. These rich people probably don’t value money much. I redeemed the chip and brought the booty home.
With the money, I renovated the chicken shop, hired some helpers and started business in a big way. More customers started coming, more money started pouring in.
Now I was still the chicken man, only richer!