Australia is leading the charge. The rest of the uncivilized first world is close behind. Streams of wild and free youth cluttering up the streets hurling eggs in every which direction. Clean up kiosks clogging up business districts and market squares with crews anxiously awaiting incoming embryos.
Down Under begun a devilish scene. Every public venue, park and landmark has a yolk to bear. People as far as the eye can see are walking on egg shells.
The newspaper robes are a dead giveaway. Baseball helmets oozing with sludge. Egg ammunition strapped onto makeshift belts of cardboard and duct tape. Personalized slingshots capable of blasting four eggs in a single catapult. Forearm shields fashioned from sweaty soccer shin guards. Egg fight enthusiasts are fearing the worst given the strain on caged egg supplies despite the scourge of wash resistant smelly residue at laundry.
Free range cartels are feeling the pinch. The number of omelette snobs are on the rise. Egg salad family recipe hoarders insist on the cloudiest whites and the flakiest yellows to imbibe their heirloom concoctions. Just don’t expect lights out on around the clock corporate cock fighting yet. Conscious consumers are only beginning to see in the dark.
E.L. Fudgepacker
The Lining 