My fellow Americans: we come to a forfication in the road (and before my detractors start in, I just want to make it perfectly clear that I said forfication, not fornication [I can already see Senator Leghorn from Alabama getting all confused, and telling everyone in that southern drawl of his, "Senator Blo--I say, Senator Bloderman's advocatin'--I say, advocatin' fornicatin' in the road!" which couldn't be further from the truth {though I do like the Beatles song which proposes that very thing...but I digress}])--as I say: we come to a fornication in the road, when the overwhelming number of cackle-bladders popping up around the land--causing honest, hardworking Americans to believe they're accessories to murders--forces us to take drastic action: my friends, I propose nothing less than an immediate and nationwide plebiscite (not a website, Senator Leghorn: a plebiscite) on the question of outlawing the sale, possession, ownership, or use of bladders for any reason whatsoever!"

After a lethal gunslinging episode with an outlaw outside the local saloon, the plebiscite overwhelmingly voted in their new champion as town marshal, not realizing that his silken voice hid a forficate tongue, and that the bloody incident was just so much cackle-bladder.

“Since I rejected their plebiscite for an air-conditioned coop, the chickens have been in full open revolt”, the chicken farmer lamented to me, visibly overwhelmed by his predicament, “some have resorted to hunger strikes, while others are faking their own deaths in brazen acts of cackle-bladder”, but I tried to dissuade him from his forficate idea to put down the rebellion with tear gas and water cannons.