“Not bad… but I have this strange pressure inside me. It feels like I’m about to explode!”

The rooster let out a hearty chuckle.

“Ah, you’re ovulating! Never laid an egg before, huh?”

Bob’s eyes widened. “Never.”

“Relax,” the rooster advised. “Just let nature do its thing.”

With some hesitation, Bob gave it a try. To his amazement—and slight discomfort—out came an egg. An overwhelming sense of joy and pride washed over him. He had never experienced anything like it.

Soon, he laid another, then another. Just as he was about to lay his third egg, a sudden smack to the back of his head snapped him out of his trance.

“Bob! Wake up!” his wife hollered.

“You’re drunk again and pooping in the bed!” she scolded, her voice a mix of anger and disbelief.

For a moment, Bob was too stunned to respond. The vivid memories of St. Peter, the farm, and his brief but intense experience as a hen faded like a wild hallucination. In their place was the cold, undeniable reality of a very messy situation.

Despite the overwhelming embarrassment, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Life had just played the strangest joke on him, and as absurd as it all was, he had to admit—it was one unforgettable lesson in just how unpredictable things could be.