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This past weekend, my wife wanted to go shopping as we needed a few things.

I needed to finish a lot of tasks that I had not finished during the week and I was behind on. I was firm in my telling her that I was not going.

She laughed, I insisted.

Well, on my way to Beaumont on our shopping trip, we passed a house with a giant metal rooster in the front yard. It caught both of our eyes.

It is not something you see every day.

I am not saying that it was weird or anything. After all, I am nobody’s judge in the weird category. I collect self-contained ecosystems with insects in them after all.

But this was different.

My wife looked at me and asked, “Who would put a giant chicken in their front yard.”

I corrected her and said, “Rooster.”

The look told me any further corrections were not welcome.

I shrugged and said, “Who knows, maybe it’s a giant guard robot.”

I was silent till we arrived in Beaumont, but my mind was racing.

Who would put a giant metal rooster in their front yard? 

Could it be a security rooster? 

Where could I buy a giant metal security robot Rooster?

Why am I asking myself such stupid questions?

Well, after dismissing the last question, I began to work out the logistics of a giant metal security rooster. Most of all, how to convince the wife that we needed a giant metal security robot rooster.

I could already in my mind picture the first night of Giant Cluck 3000…

The trespasser slowly climbed over the fence. He felt that he was going to be able to take off with some impressive loot. He avoided the security lights. The dogs were asleep and he surmised inside the house.

Checking to see if the coast was clear, he started to make his way across the yard. He made it to a window when something did not feel right all of the sudden.

He shrugged off his feelings as jitters and reached for the window. Suddenly he heard a metallic sound behind him.

Turning, he was staring right into the unblinking, bright red eyes of a tall metallic robot rooster.

The dead eyes bored a hole in him, peering into his soul.

His screams were silenced with a loud metallic “CLUCK” as it charged him.

I was oddly satisfied with how this played out and I turned to my wife as we took the Sam’s Club exit.

“Babe, we should,” I began.

“No, we don’t need whatever it is,” she answered.

I guess it will have to be a Christmas surprise.

Michael Cole is a syndicated columnist that when he is not writing, he is plotting global domination. You can follow him at www.storyoveracup.com