The animal skin clad, decrepit, mud-stained clan hunkered closely together as huge rain drops relentlessly pelted their goosebumped, filthy bodies. A thunderous clap in the sky had just accompanied a jagged bolt of lightning that exploded their ‘gathering tree’ and left its remains ablaze, turning the pitch black sky into brightness much like that of mid-day sunlight. Flames from the blaze shot skyward which reflected the shock and fear in the frightened faces of the huddled, awestruck tribe.
Hesitantly, with much trepidation, their leader, MADAVID0, approached the burning, crackling conflagration engulfing their ‘gathering tree’. If he could have spoken (written nor spoken language had yet evolved within this particular, isolated population) he might have said, ‘WTF!!! That's friggin’ HOT, go find us a witch to burn!’ Instead, given his limited ability to express himself, and the mysterious nature of this new phenomenon, MADAVID0 inexplicably jumped into the blaze, leaping full speed into its white hot center! The clan gasped and moved even closer together, jaws agape, spittle hanging from their lips and incisors, unsure what to do! Alas, MADAVID0 did not emerge from the blaze, and it was days later, after the enormous fire had subsided, when the frightened band poked long poles into the ash and smoldering embers to reveal the remains of their charred leader.
Had they been able to speak, they might have said it, but were unable.
Mute, they just drooled, shuffled, whimpered a little, and stared. Anthropologists now postulate, though, that it was at that precise moment when prehistoric bands began to think it, ‘tastes like chicken!’
Enter your text ...