Having rolled home after a long day at work, full from 400 pints of tea to quell a hangover that could've stop Hannibal's army, I got a chirpy text from Cakeamillion. 'At home? Fancy clipping some chickens wings ?' My response was immediate; I was straight on the blower to him arranging the precision task. This basically boiled down to Jake coaxing the chucks from the pen with meal worms, whilst I stood there like a drunken dork, willy dans le wind. Chick Norris and Henny G weren't a problem but as usual Baden Fowl had other ideas and was screaming like a firework.
For those of you who haven't trimmed a hen's wing before it's quite simple. Get Cakeatonne to hold the chuck under his arm whilst splaying out the feathers of one wing, cut through them approximately 2" in, desperately fight off a temporary bout of nausea as you hear the cartilage click as it's cut. Boom! There you have it, a bird with unbalanced wings that can't escape your garden. To that end, why would anyone want to escape Parsley & Cakeatonne's garden?! It's fucking wicked!