If At First You Don\'t Succeed


If At First You Don\'t Succeed

"Eureka!" Sam excitedly exclaimed. "I\'ve done it! I\'m set for life and my happiness is assured.
With this new invention I\'ll be honored for my brilliance, and I might even win the nobel prize!" he
chirped ecstatically.

Sam was a chicken, the great great great grandson of the Not-So-Great Chixken Little, who, in case the reader is ignorant, was the chick who thought the sky was falling and got everyone eaten by
a crafty old fox [SIC]. Sam was a well built chicken, quite muscular in fact, and extremely inventive, but, unfortunately, he had no brains when it came to reality. His motto was: " If at first you don\'t succeed, try, try again," and he would never give up even if there was no way he could win. To this very day he still has an
annual football game against a childhood friend, Bono, who is a prize winning, full grown bull. (In case the reader hasn\'t discovered it, after every game, Sam has a visit to the hospital where he is an infamous character, continually joked about by the nurses and doctors who work there.)

***
"You may see Mr. Monty now, sir," the secretary informed Sam.
He nervously eyed the door in front of him. The big, bold lettering stated:

MR. JP MONTY
EXECUTIVE PRESIDENT

Doubts about his ability to make a good impression entered his mind, but Sam immediatly gathered himself together, glanced back at the sheep secretary, and entered the room. THe stately pig sat behind a magnificently carved oak desk in the most luxurious office Sam had ever seen.
A plush oriental rug covered the floor from wall to wall, and paintings, pictures, and diplomas adorned the brightly colored walls. Extremely expensive ornaments were conspicuously displayed, spreading a DO-Not-Touch atmosphere around the room. But the room was nothing compared to the pig
lounged in the sleek, black, leather chair. He was not fat, he was immense, he had one of those stomachs that literally hung over his waistband. His four chins wiggled like Jell-O as he turned his chubby head to face Sam.
"Yeees," Mr. JP Monty stated suggestively.
" Sir, this is your lucky day! I am the esteemed architect of the greatest invention of all time, and I have picked you, to invest in it. This will certainly earn you enormous profits ince the public gets ahold of my wonderful creation. What do you say sir? Are you with me or not? I
know that if you decide to endorse my idea, then you will be greatly rewarded in the future, " Sam stopped, out of breath as he waited for an answer.
" Well it might be helpful to know what I\'ve invested in before I risk unknown numbers of bushals of grain to produce the afore-mentioned product."
" Oh it will definitly be worth it Mr. Monty, sir, it will, it will, it will!" Sam quickly and enthusiastically informed the famous business man before him. A silence that seemed to last forever to the amateur inventor enveloped the room.
"Well, what is it young man?" JP inquired impatiently.
" What is what?" Sam asked.
" Your supposedly great invention." The pig shot back, obviously annoyed.
"Oh, yessir, I\'m sorry sir," stuttered Sam," I\'ll tell you now sir. It is artificially flavored grass... you know, for cattle."
" Artificially flavored GRASS!?!?"
"Yessir. It comes in cherry, lime, apple, chocolate, and rasberry. It\'s actually quite tasty. Even I, enjoy the vast array of flavors. Also, there is no end to the possibility of expansion of the product. We could always produce low-fat, more fiber, and more flavors. Isn\'t it an
incredible idea sir? I have some here if..." Sam\'s voice trailed off, and his face fell as he peered at Mr. Monty. " Are you all right sir?" The pig sat absolutely still and silent, as if in serious shock. "Sir, is my idea bad?"
Mr. Monty\'s expression suddenly changed to an animated happiness Sam had never seen before. " No, no my boy! It\'s a stupendous idea!" He pressed a button on his desk. " Miss Steward, notify my managers immediatly. I