Had some free time while I was under the weather and wanted to write a story about someone having a worse day than me.

This is a rough draft, uneddited version of a fable like story. A fox uses his wits to keep food on the table and in his ever swelling stomach. Involves chickens, farmers and one very, well fed fox.

There is also a moral about greed in there... Sure, lets go with that. :)

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This is the story of Brent, Trent, and Dent.

All three were chicken farmers who lived just down the road from the other, and all three were bitter rivals desperate to corner the market on chicken eggs. So Farmer Brent was not at all pleased to find a fox in his chicken coop.

Awakened by the cries of his chickens in need, Farmer Brent grabbed his shot gun and threw open the coop doors to find a mangy half-starved vulpine tearing into one of his hens.

“Fiend! Egg thief! I will do away with you right this instant!”

The scrawny creature dropped to his knees, cupping his paws and pleaded. “Please! Don’t shoot!” he begged, “Spare me! I’m sorry I stole from you! I was only trying to steal one hen to help me survive winter! Please! If you let me live, I will do anything for you! Just please do not shoot!”

And so Farmer Brent lined up his sight to shoot the fox anyway. But he hesitated, “Anything?”

This got the farmer thinking, “Would you be willing to steal from another hen house?”

“Oh no, Mr. Farmer. I won’t touch another chicken as long as I live! I swear! Just don’t-“

“Not from me! From the farm down the road,” The farmer yelled. “Can you steal from his chickens?”

This caused the fox to pause. Raising an eyebrow, he replied tentatively, “Yes… but why would you want me to do such a thing?”

“Never you mind about that. If you steal from Farmer Trent down the road I will give leave a basket full of eggs for you each morning.”

This caused the fox’s tail to wag and his stomach to grumble. The farmer was willing to pay the beast to do what came naturally to him? He agreed to the farmer’s terms without hesitation.

That very night the fox left to raid the farm down the road and he made off with a score of chickens. The next morning the fox returned and collected his fee.

And so the days went by. Farmer Brent had a little more kick to his step and a smile on his face, imagining how angry his rival must be by now.

As for the fox, his skinny frame disappeared as he gradually nursed himself back into health. Once again, he was in his prime, making him more effective at sneaking through Trent’s farm.

Too effective.

The fox was careless on night and set off a trap. The beast found himself dangling by the paw from a snare, and in the morning, he came face to face with the angry Farmer Trent.

And the farmers shot gun.

Thinking fast the fox called out, “Wait! Don’t shoot! If you let me live I can help you get the upper paw over your rival!” He said, thinking back to his conversation with Farmer Brent. The fox breathed a sigh of relief when the Farmer lowered his gun.

“Speak quickly fox…” Said the man, and the fox began to smile.

A deal was struck. In exchange for his life, and a basket full of eggs each morning, the fox agreed to go raid Farmer Dent down the road.

And so the days passed.

In the morning, the fox picked up his eggs from Brent. In the afternoon he picked up his eggs from Trent. In the evening the fox raided Dents farm.

After a month of this arrangement the fox was looking rather plump. No one would have guessed the fox had ever known starvation, not with the way his stomach hung down to his knees as he walked.

Eventually, like the other farmers, the fox was eventually caught by Dent. He was found in the morning by the angry farmer, too swollen with his meal to escape through the narrow coop door. However, laying there, defensless to the steady aim of Dent’s shot gun, the fox continued to look quite calm.

The fox’s smile unnerved the farmer so much that he asked, “You don’t seem afraid, beast? Do you know that I’m about to make a hat out of you?”

“Oh, I’m sure you could. But if you would permit me one last request and listen to what I have to say, I’m sure we can find a much better use for me on your farm…”

And so, another arrangement was made.

It was quite the little set up. In the morning, the fox collected his eggs from Farmer Brent. In the afternoon, he collected his eggs from Farmer Trent. And in the evening he collected his eggs from Farmer Dent.

They were none the wiser, each one never suspecting that the loss in eggs they all collectively shared went to the stomach of the same fox they each hired.

For the fox, life was good. He never had to lift a paw to catch his meal again.

And so the days went by. Gradually the weeks turned into months, and the before the fox knew it, a year had passed. The beast was surprised that he survived the winter, not due to starvation, but due to his gluttony. By then he was as fat as fat could be, rolls of flesh accumulating around his neck, rounding out his rump, and leaving his stomach grazing the ground.

His chicken stealing days might be over, but the fox still had plans to make his life more comfortable. In the spring a forth farmer, Kent had built a farm just down the road from the others. The three farmers each told the fox that they would increase his earnings if he stole from him as well.

Gleefully, the greedy creature set out, walking slowly on his hind paws and pausing every so often to catch his breath due to the girth now set upon his once scrawny figure.

Eventually, the fox came to the edge of the farm. He leaned himself against the fence, belly spilling out across the ground before him. “Hello! I say! Good day sir!”

Farmer Kent, raised an eyebrow before replying to the vulpine, “The mice must be a real problem out here.” He crossed his arms, “Is there something I can… help you with Mr. Fox?”

The fox grinned ear to ear, “Actually, I was wondering if I could help you. I hear you are opening a chicken farm. Quite a lot of them around here, there are…”

“Must be paradise for a beast like you,” Kent gave the bulging fox a glance.

“Quite,” the fox laughed. “But not so much for you, is it? Not with all this competition around. But for a modest fee I can make sure the others have a little less to bring to market each week.”

It didn’t take long for the farmer to realize what the fox was implying. “I would have to say that is quite the interesting proposal. It would certainly help me with my own profits at market.”

Kent’s voice then turned sour, “And a rather rotten thing to do to my neighbors.”

To the fox’s horror, the Farmer whistled, summoning his dogs. The greedy beast turns and flees but a year of gluttony has made him soft. Made him slow.

He barely got ten feet before the dogs are upon him. Both are eager to be the first to catch the delicious looking beast.

The fox’s terrified yelps filled the air as one hound caught his leg, tripping him as the second sank his teeth into his overfed belly.

…And began to devour him…