Camilla wrinkled her nose at the nearby birds offending her delicate olfactory system. One chemically-induced plump chicken waddled past her, clucking noisily.
“Chickens,” Conner said. “You’re afraid of chickens?”
Camilla frowned. “Just don’t like them.”
“C’mon, what’s not to like? They’re cute and delicious.”
“Can’t forget deadly.”
Conner rolled his eyes. “They aren’t deadly. Just take a look at this farm. Free range and crap.”
Camilla folded her arms. “When Stacy ate chicken she ended up with a fever, vomiting, confusion, and diarrhea.
Conner blinked. “From eating chicken?”
Camilla nodded solemnly. “Yeah, doctors said she suffered from Toxic Cock Syndrome.”