Once upon a time, long, long ago in a land called ClickTrackProfitica, there was vast farmland through which the River TimTeque ran. The river fed the land with its fresh and progressive waters, making the land bountiful and lush, and all the creatures living and playing throughout the land happy.

There were many farms dotting the landscape of the farmland, including the farm where an orange barn that housed an astonishing number of Rhode Island Red chickens stood. The orange barn belonged to Farmer Tim.

One day in the orange barn, a baby chick was born. This chick looked a little different from the others, and Farmer Tim thought it must be somehow special.

And special it was, this young chicken. Almost overnight (as things tend to happen wherever the River TimTeque runs), the little chick grew into a hen, and immediately began laying eggs.

A short time later, Farmer Tim set about collecting the newest eggs. It took a while, because he had to stop and send messages by Tweeting carrier pigeons to everyone in the land about the newest eggs and draw pictures of them every time he picked a new egg up.

It also took a while because every time he picked up another egg, he also had to send messages by Tweeting carrier pigeon to Sir Guy of TE, far away in the land of Canadia, bragging that his eggs from the orange barn were better than all the eggs in Canadia.

Then Farmer Tim saw the egg of the special chicken, and his jaw dropped, and he made a really weird face (and drew a picture himself, but instead of sending this picture to everyone in the realm by Tweeting carrier pigeon, saved it for unveiling at the next Surf Festival of Sweeva, a weekly celebration in the land).

“Hark!” he called to the local handyman, Young Larry. “Come hither and feast thine eyes upon the egg of my hen!”

The egg shone golden as the sun, and was marked with something that looked almost like ancient writing or hieroglyphics. “What dost thou view on this egg, Young Larry?” Farmer Tim asked.

Young Larry held the golden egg up to the light, squinting. “It saith…  X… P…. the egg saith XP, Farmer Tim!”

And Farmer Tim and Young Larry – as well as all the people of the land – rejoiced, for the Golden Chicken of XP had come to ClickTrackProfitica, dropping Golden Eggs of XP wherever it roamed.

The very presence of the Golden Chicken of XP would change the landscape forever, and all of the people in the land would be even happier, even though it meant they would rarely get any sleep because they would forevermore be searching for the Golden Eggs of XP. (But they’d be delirious from lack of sleep anyway and would never know the difference – they’d still all be happy.)

And somewhere on the other side of the realm, there was another barn marked with a number on the door – the number 13. (It was just around the corner from the local jail.)

Inside the barn marked ’13’  huddled a motley crew of twenty-four ClickTrackProfitica citizens, along with another citizen in shackles with a broken wrist and a very large appetite.

Upon hearing the joyous news of the arrival of the Golden Chicken of XP, a ruckus ensued inside the barn marked ’13’. The ruckus was so loud that the nearest neighbor – a knight known across the land as Sir Matthew of Badura – threatened to call for the authorities and send all the ’13’ people to jail.

No one knows what the ruckus was about that fateful night. Some say it was because the slave, shackled to the nearest piece of machinery by his non-broken wrist and with his very large appetite, wanted to capture and EAT the Golden Chicken of XP, and the rest of the group was understandably horrified. The very idea!

One can only imagine that the slave’s keeper, along with the golden-haired ladies from the Southern part of the realm who were also among the group inside the barn marked ’13’, all said these words at the same time: “Hush, slave! Thou keepest surfing or thou getteth NO MORE food at all!”

And some say that one of the twenty-four was, yes, the Egg Whisperer… yea verily, the stuff of XP legend. Yet if there were an Egg Whisperer, though, he or she is not known.

What IS known is that inside the barn marked ’13’ on that fateful night, a plot was being hatched (!!!) to kidnap the Golden Chicken of XP, so those inside the barn could have all of the XP in the land for their very own.

And somewhere in another land far, far away, a unicorn smiled.

( … to be continued… ) 

(…. somehow, somewhere, sometime … )


Written by Lynn M.

Lynn M.

I talk and write online a lot about traffic exchanges & online/affiliate business since 2007-2008 at LynnM.net & elsewhere. I’m a former TE owner, nowadays I give away a lot of free advertising & other stuff via Win10WithLynn.com, and I recently opened CommissionScoop.com. I have dogs, cats, a fiance named Brian, and I’m a Southern gal and blonde, which means I get called Sunny Suggs a lot (and probably a lot more often than anyone calls her Lynn). Faves: Mexican food, orange soda, Waffle House, Tennessee Vols football.

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