A pig, wearing a farmer outfit and holding a banjo, is sitting under a tree. If you look carefully, you can see the outlines of six chickens in the leaves of the tree.
Pig: (singing) Oh, there are chickens in the trees,
There are chickens in the trees.
Won`t you listen to me, please?
(briefly, the chickens flutter about in the branches)
There are chickens in the trees.
Rooster: (entering from the right) Excuse me, old pig. I couldn`t help but overhear you. Would you mind singing that song again, please?
Pig: Why, not at all - ahem...
(sings) Oh there are chickens in the trees,
There are chickens in the trees.
Won`t you listen to me, please?
(briefly, the chickens flutter about again)
There are chickens in the trees.
Rooster: You know, that`s a very nice song, but you`ve got it quite, quite wrong. I happen to be a professional chicken and I know for a fact that chickens don`t live in trees.
Pig: Hmmm ... is that so?
Rooster: Absolutely. The very idea is utterly ridiculous, quite ridiculous. Chickens in the trees, indeed. What will they think of next?
(storms off)
Pig: (standing) Okay, fellas. You heard what the rooster said. Everyone out of the tree.
(The chickens all drop out of the tree, and walk away, clucking and pecking)