It's okay, I'm okay. We're all okay.
Just because you're a bird that wants to fly away, I won't stop you.
But rest assured, one day I'll capture you once again, grab you, chop your head off, pluck and bleed you out, and fry you into a golden crispiness that the Colonel Himself is unfamiliar with.
We'll have a feast. I'll bring the hot sauce.
Oh, in other news we have a Tweetter account now. We're not entirely sure what it's for, but we heard that it has something to do with birds.
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