Omelet's ghost?

Somebody's Facebook post led me to this historical tidbit.

Apparently, Francis Bacon died of pneumonia after packing a dead chicken in ice - a pioneering experiment in frozen food gone tragically awry.

But that's not the end of the story ...

Cluck - I mean, click - the link for the extra-creepy details. 

It's a tale of murder most fowl, and of a plucky plucked chicken who took a lickin' but kept on tickin'! Is it a hen from hell, a case of super-thigh, or merely a dumb yolk that will leave us with egg on our face?

 

 

 

 

Ocular proof!

Comments

[Kathleen]

That was strangely a very charming story.

I've read many, many accounts of people experiencing ghost animals, going back to phantom horses pulling carriages.

A very interesting is an account by Albert Payson Terhune, author of the very popular Lad books back in the 1930s. In his published account, two named witnesses quite strongly say that they saw his deceased dog Rex.

Here's a nice summary of the events:

Rex was a large dog with a vicious-looking scar across his forehead which made him appear much more ferocious than he really was. And though he felt it his duty to bark at every guest who walked across the threshold, Rex would contentedly curl up at Terhune's feet as he sat at the typewriter creating another canine adventure for his legions of devoted readers.

Due to a series of unfortunate events, Rex was killed in March 1916, and the saddened Terhune wrote the story Lad: A Dog as a tribute to the memory of his dear pet.

Many months after Rex's death, Terhune was paid a visit by Henry A. Healy, a financier, who knew how much his host had loved his big dog—but who apparently had not been told of Rex's passing. Just before leaving that evening, Healy sighed wistfully and said, "Bert, I wish there was someone or something on earth that adored me as much as Rex worships you. I watched him all evening. He lay there at your feet the whole time, looking up at you as a devotee might look up to his god."

Terhune was shocked by his guest's comments. "Good lord, man!" he exclaimed. "Rex has been dead now for more than a year and a half."

Healy turned pale, but stood by the testimony of his own senses: "I can swear that he was lying at your feet all evening—just as I've seen him do since he was a puppy."

Some weeks later, a longtime friend of Terhune's, Rev. Appleton Grannis, paid a visit to Sunnybank, and after a stroll around the estate and a pleasant afternoon meal, remarked that he thought Bert fancied collies. Terhune replied that was true. In fact all the dogs that he presently owned were collies.

Rev. Grannis firmly disagreed. "Then what dog was it that stood all afternoon on the porch looking in through the French window at you? He's a big dog with a nasty, peculiar scar on his forehead."

While the author knew at once that it was his old friend Rex returning for another visit from the spirit world, Terhune thought better than to attempt to explain the situation to a conventional man of the cloth.

Terhune said that even the other dogs were able to sense the presence of old Rex. One of the collies that had always been careful to keep his distance from the big scar-faced crossbreed continued to skirt very carefully around the rug where Rex had always sat waiting for his master to sit down to write.

[Roger Knights]

In Dutch, Hamlet is spelled Omelet (or something close to it). Disconcerting.

[Bruce Siegel]

"Is it a hen from hell, a case of super-thigh, or merely a dumb yolk that will leave us with egg on our face?"

I'm thinking poultrygeist.

[Bruce Siegel]

Holy mackerel. I just came across this:

http://www.poultrygeistmovie.com/

Is there any thought, word, or concept, however bizarre, that someone *else* hasn't come up with first?

One thing about the internet -- it can sure keep you humble by trashing any hopes of originality. :)

[Boo boo]

Ha ha ha!