The Day I Killed Bogbrush

A patient asked me to tell her a story today.
She needed diverting and I had just a few minutes to spare
I didn't quite know just what to talk about until I spied an nylon exfoliating face scrub sticking out of her bathroom bag sitting on her locker.
When I saw the white Pom Pom I remembered Bog Brush 

Now Bog Brush was a nasty little cunt
A silkie cockerel no more than nine inches high, he was the epitome of little man syndrome 
Full of bluster, anger and sexual tension bordering on the psychotic , Bog Brush spent his days either pecking at any passing female hen within range or shagging any passing female hen within range.
When he had a spare moment , free of the motivation of depositing sperm , he would spend it attacking anything that he saw as a threat.
The dogs, the pigs, even the hysterical Indian runner ducks would be targeted by the little white crested cockerel, who without fear and with much howling would hurl himself claws first at any poor unfortunate within reach.

Visiting humans would also be subject to sneak attacks and could be often seen limping away from the field with bloody calves and ripped tights.

The population of the field was effectively under seige until the day that Bog Brush picked on a baby bantam cockerel called Gayboy 
Gayboy, was a sweetie. He was tiny runt of a bantam who had a bad leg after it was trampled by his socially inept mother. The injury left him slow and when he walked he flounced somewhat like a more camp version of john Inman's Mr Humphreys 
Gayboy was bully fodder for the likes of BogBrush and that day it was fortunate that I was passing with a tin feeding bowl in my hand for Bogbrush had almost killed the little guy ( as he skipped by presumably whistling show tunes to himself ). I yelled " You little cunt" at the top of my voice  and swung my bowl like a good un
The tin bowl had clacked Bogbrush , just a glancing blow
I only intended to scare the bastard
But the cockerel stopped short, gave me a brief but vicious look , then dropped stone dead to the floor.
" You killed Bogbrush" my patient stated
" I did " I told her "I am ashamed to admit it!" 
" but Gayboy survived!???!!!"
" he did indeed !!" I told her......
Thus Ending the story