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| Deborah |
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| Kevan |
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SAMMY WAS A PICKY EATER.
He didn’t like vegetables.
He frowned upon fruit.
He made a gagging motion at the mention of pasta and
he didn’t like roast beef, shrimp, steak, pork chops, liver or kidney pie.
WHAT HE DID LIKE WAS CHICKEN
When it was dinner time, Sammy would ask, “Mom what are we having?”
“Your favorite Sammy – chicken,” his mom would say.
Because Sammy was really, really finicky, his mom cooked chicken almost every night.
Sammy was glad that chicken came in many different shapes and sizes.
Sometimes the chicken was as flat as a pancake.
Sometimes it was a rectangular shape with gravy on top.
Sometimes it was in little bite-size pieces that tasted good with French Fries.
And sometimes it was on-the-bone, Sammy’s favourite.
One day, Sammy and his family went to Curt’s Chicken House for dinner.
When Sammy made his way through the long line to the gleaming white counter at the front of the restaurant, a big kid with metallic teeth asked what he could get him.
Sammy looked around the restaurant with a sheepish grin, looked up at his mom and said in a great big voice,“We’ll have some Chicken-on-the-Bone please.”
“Chicken-on-the-Bone?” questioned the boy, revealing more silver train tracks.
“Chicken-on-the-Bone!” echoed someone in the line up.
“Chicken-on-the-Bone,” gasped a runny-nosed kid.
“Chicken-on-the-Bone!” howled a great big man wearing a white apron from the back of the kitchen.
"That’s what I said. Chicken-on-the-Bone,” repeated Sammy.
“You have a problem with that?” Sammy demanded, giving the big kid his superhero tough-guy stare.
“Nope,” chuckled Train Tracks and he began preparing the order.
Sammy and his two brothers Eric and Derrick were busy devouring their chicken-on-the-bone, fries, whole-wheat rolls and Curt’s special gravy with their mom and dad when the loud guy with the apron came up to the table and introduced himself.
It was Curt, the owner of the Chicken House
He had been baking, broiling, frying, and barbecuing chicken his entire life and had never heard of “Chicken-on-the-Bone.”
"What’s your name kid?"
“Sammy!” yelled Eric and Derrick before Sammy had a chance to answer.
“Well, Sammy I like chicken-on-the-bone and I like you.
How would you like to help me advertise my Chicken House?”
“Cool,” said Sammy. “Can I eat lots of Chicken-on-the Bone?”
“Absolutely,” said Curt.
The next day, a big-city photographer came to town to take lots of pictures of Sammy eating Chicken-on-the-Bone.
Pretty soon there were posters, billboards and signs all over the place of Sammy eating Chicken-on-the-Bone.
There were snapshots of Sammy eating Chicken-on-the-Bone at Curt’s Chicken House,
on picnics in the park,
at home with his mom, dad and his brothers Eric and Derrick
on the school bus and
even atop the Eiffel Tower.
Since Sammy began advertising Curt’s “Chicken-on-the-Bone”, business had skyrocketed.
Curt was opening restaurants all over the country and many people said it was because of Sammy.
Sammy had been to a few of the other Chicken Houses but he received a special invitation to the grand opening of Curt’s 100th Chicken House.
Sammy’s mom said there were going to be some very important people there like the Mayor, TV reporters and maybe even the Prime Minister.
When Sammy arrived, he couldn’t believe he eyes.
There was a brass band playing parade music, gymnasts performing acrobatics, clowns blowing up chicken-on-the-bone balloons and cheerleaders performing a hip-hopping Chicken-on-the-Bone routine.
“We like chicken, yes chicken, Chicken-on-the-Bone.
No matter if it’s a leg or thigh, you’ll want to give Curt’s chicken a try. Yes chicken. Wow chicken. We love Chicken-on-the-Bone!
When he thought he had seen it all, Sammy noticed a zillion people crowding around a HUGE Chicken-on-the-bone mascot!
“Do all these people like Chicken-on-the-Bone as much as I do?” Sammy asked his mother.
“It sure looks that way,” his mom said.
Then someone yelled, “Hey there’s the Chicken-on-the-Bone kid!”
People began chanting “Chicken-on-the-Bone, Chicken-on-the-Bone, Chicken-on-the-Bone!”
Suddenly, Sammy found himself being tossed back and forth in a mosh pit of chicken-on-the-bone lovers until he reached the front of the restaurant and made his way to the gleaming white counter like the one in Curt’s original Chicken House.
This time, there wasn’t a big kid with silver teeth on the other side but Curt himself waiting to take Sammy’s order.
“Well,” Curt said. “What can I get you Sammy?”
The brass band stopped playing, babies ceased crying, toddlers stopped squirming and cameras remained still as everyone waited to hear Sammy’s order.
Sammy looked around the restaurant with a sheepish grin, looked up at his mom and whispered very, very quietly, “I THINK I’LL TRY THE FISH.”
By Deborah Everest-Hill
Illustrated by Kevan Murray
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