The cosmic chicken in my head is screaming my name and telling me what to do. I don’t like being told what to do. Especially by some chicken. It keeps telling me to eat my crusty boogers so I can go to the magical place where all the little puppies go. I wish I had a puppy. I would name him Barf.
So now as I type this I have a screaming chicken in my head (very distracting) and a booger waiting for me on my index finger (makes it hard to type).
What should I do?
Should I flick this cosmic booger into the netherworld and watch it flame into eternity where all the cow gods live?
Should I use it to develop a mind-control serum that will enable me to infuse the space-booger into my chicken’s consciousness and control him?
Should I get a rolling pin and spread it out until it’s a huge paper-thin material, and use it for emergencies when I need a parachute?
Or should I feed it to my rabid cat who surfs through the ethers on a churro?