Christmas at Bluebell Farm
It was nearly Christmas at Bluebell Farm, and most of the animals were very happy.
Pat the Pig was nestled down all snuggy in his cosy bed of money, dreaming about all the things he would buy himself for Christmas. He was dreaming too about how one day, when the farmer didn't need him anymore, he would retire somewhere nice, with a big pot he had put aside. Pat had heard stories about some piggies being taken away and slaughtered and sliced up and grilled and roasted, and eaten for breakfast. But he knew that wouldn't ever happen him, would it?
Eddie the Chicken hadn't quite as much money as Pat the Pig but his nest was quite well-feathered too, and Eddie didn't want any trouble. He just wanted to continue scratching around and having a quiet life. He had heard stories too, about chickens facing the chop, and running around headless, not knowing where they were going, squawking and shrieking. He'd heard you could be rightly plucked if you weren't careful. But Eddie knew that wouldn't happen him, because all the other animals on the farm liked Eddie, didn't they?