The angry eggs stumble out of their workouts, shells still glistening with sweat, only to find themselves ambushed. Buckets of hot tar are dumped over them, and feathers rain down, sticking to every curve. They slip, slide, and squawk in shock as the crowd laughs and jeers. Pride and strength mean nothing now. The angry eggs have been tarred and feathered.
The angry eggs stumble out of their workouts, shells still glistening with sweat, only to find themselves ambushed. Buckets of hot tar are dumped over them, and feathers rain down, sticking to every curve. They slip, slide, and squawk in shock as the crowd laughs and jeers. Pride and strength mean nothing now. The angry eggs have been tarred and feathered.