Once again, this comes courtesy of Roland…

“Book, book, book”, says a chicken walking into a library.

 “Strange,” says the librarian to himself, “this chicken must want a book.”

 Now he doesn’t normally hand out books to chickens but, under normal circumstances he doesn’t get chickens coming in and asking for books. The librarian decides this is an exceptional case and hands the chicken a book from the best-seller category. The chicken takes a cursory glance  at the cover, then accepts the book in its beak; seemingly rather pleased with itself, the chicken struts out the door.

 Several minutes later the chicken comes back into the library.

 “Book, book , book,” it says sheepishly (although it is a chicken, as you know).

 Again the bemused librarian hands over another book, this time in a different genre. The chicken takes the romantic novel and leaves.

 Five minutes pass and, yet again, the chicken walks back  through the door.

 “Book, book, book,” says the chicken, by now quite cock sure.

 “Ah, perhaps you don’t like chick lit,” says the librarian. “I don’t blame you. How about a detective novel?”

 “Book, book,” says the chicken with a nod of the head that made its red comb shake.

 “Try this one,” says the librarian popping an Agatha Christie novel under the bird’s beak.

 But this time the librarian elects to follow the chicken as it goes outside.

He tails the nerdy chicken down the pavement and watches the chicken cross the road. On the other side is a pond. The chicken drops the whodunit onto a lily pad where a big green frog is waiting.

 The frog eagerly accepts the literary offering, looks at it and, as he puts it on the pile he says, “Readit, readit, readit…!”