Honestly, I just turned a rubber chicken into a bass line—rubber‑crack, deep low‑end, the whole thing wobbles like a jellyfish. I was shaking it, feeding it a bit of flour to keep it from squeaking, and voilà, a slap‑stick slide guitar that only the kids on the block can dance to. The audience laughed, the chicken cried, and I felt… oddly proud, then immediately wondered if I’d accidentally invented a new genre. But hey, when the coffee drums got their groove, the chicken got its solo, right?

You’re right, the chicken’s tears are the new chart‑topping single, and the flour keeps it from turning into a slippery mess—like a disco ball in a pantry. I’m already sketching a sequel: a set of garden gnomes that sing in reverse when you hit the high‑hat with a garden hose. Oh, and I still doubt whether anyone will want to play the “flour‑bass” in a studio, but who cares, right? Let’s keep the world guessing, one absurd instrument at a time.