It was election time in the chicken yard.  The chickens didn't elect a president every day, so this was an awesome event.  The candidate from the Strutter Party was Beauregard.  The Pecker Party candidate was Erasmus.  They were the two biggest cocks in the yard.  Or in any yard, for that matter.
    "I will not diddle all the hens!" crowed Beauregard.
    "Hey!  Me neither!" clucked Erasmus.
    "I've got the handsomer comb and beard," said Beauregard.
    "Do not, do not!" replied Erasmus.  "Anyway, you're mean, and I'm not."
    "Am not!" sniffed Beauregard.  "Not anymore.  And I can relate to ducks as well as chickens.  I can quack like a duck.  Listen!  Quack-a-doodle-doo!  Isn't that great?"
    "Me, too!  Me, too!" squawked Erasmus.  "The Peckers have always been able to speak all kinds of fowl language."
    "No way!" retorted Beauregard.  "And I will protect everyone from the elephants.  I will put up a great fence of really big logs, so no elephants will be able to get through."
    "I'll do it better!  I'll do it better!" said Erasmus.

    Chicken Little found all the pomp, circumstance, and chicken shit fascinating and a bit overwhelming.  She was new to politics, so she asked her friends Ducky Lucky and Goosey Loosey what it was all about.
    "Say, what's all this election stuff about?" asked Chicken Little.  "I can't make skin nor feather out of it."
    "You have come to the right bird," quacked Ducky Lucky.  "I will explain everything."
    "Isn't Beauregard the handsomest bird you've ever seen?" honked Goosey Loosey.
    "This is the culmination of the democratic system," Ducky Lucky continued.  "Every four years, all the fowl get together and vote for the rooster who will lead us for the next four years."
    "Why does it have to be a rooster?" asked Chicken Little.
    "Um, I don't know.  It's always been a rooster.  There are more chickens, so it can't be a duck or a goose.  And roosters are stronger, more forceful.  Smarter, I suppose," replied Ducky Lucky.
    "Phooey," said Chicken Little.
    "Isn't Beauregard the handsomest bird you've ever seen?" cooed Goosey Loosey.
    "Well, why do we have to choose between Beauregard and Erasmus?  I don't like either of them."
    "That's the way it's always been," said Ducky Lucky.  "The Strutters and the Peckers.  The Peckers and the Strutters.  Two parties is just right.  They keep each other honest.  They give us a choice.  One party wouldn't be democratic.  More than two would be too ... confusing."
    "Choice?  Honest?" objected Chicken Little.  "Has anyone been listening to these bozos?  They're either clucking about stupid, irrelevant trivia or about who can pick our pockets cleanest.  What was all that about elephants?  There are no elephants within thousands of miles, and if there were, none of them are interested in barnyard fowl."
    "Isn't Beauregard the handsomest bird you've ever seen?" squawked Goosey Loosey.
    "I don't know," shivered Ducky Lucky.  "I'd hate to have an elephant tromp through here.  Can you imagine how awful that would be?"
    "No elephant is going to tromp through here!  And if there were one in the neighborhood, do you imagine that the Beauregard-Erasmus log fence would stop it?"
    "I don't know," said Ducky Lucky.  "I'd hate to have an elephant tromp through here.  Can you imagine how awful that would be?"
   "Isn't Beauregard the handsomest bird you've ever seen?" added Goosey Loosey.
    "Hasn't anyone noticed how tight those two cocks are with Foxy Loxy?" asked Chicken Little.
    "Oh, Foxy Loxy is such a gentleman," said Goosey Loosey.
    "Oh, yes," agreed Ducky Lucky.  "The barnyard just wouldn't work right without Foxy Loxy.  He's so smart."
    Chicken Little smacked her inconsiderable forehead with her wing.  "Hasn't anyone noticed that Foxy Loxy eats fowl like us?"
    "Oh, no," said Ducky Lucky.  "Foxy Loxy wouldn't do anything like that."
   "Isn't Beauregard the handsomest bird you've ever seen?" asked Goosey Loosey.
    "And another thing," Chicken Little went on.  "There isn't enough grain for most of the fowl.  A few fat pullets seem to get everything."
    "Only the lazy birds don't get enough to eat," scolded Ducky Lucky.
    "Just look over there," gestured Chicken Little.  A scrawny old rooster was scratching vainly for kernels of corn.  Every few steps, he would  tumble beak foremost into the dust.  "This guy's falling," said Chicken Little.
    "The sky's falling?" gasped Ducky Lucky and Goosey Loosey together.  "Gee, we'd better tell Foxy Loxy!"

    And so Chicken Little decided to run for president.  She started a new party, called the Open Yer Freakin' Eyes Party, or OYFE for short.  She talked about all the things the other candidates didn't, like how Foxy Loxy ate chickens, and how all the fowl were getting robbed blind to pay for bogus elephant protection, and how the Strutters and Peckers were all in Foxy Loxy's pocket, and how the few were robbing the many and blaming the poor for their poverty.
    But an unremarkable thing happened.  Almost no one was paying any attention.  Some of the fowl agreed that Chicken Little was right, but they still wouldn't vote for her.
    "I don't want to waste my vote," they said.
    "A vote for either of these bozos is a wasted vote," argued Chicken Little.
    "No," said the fowl.  "The president must be a Strutter or a Pecker.  That's the way it is.  That's the way it has always been.  That's the way it will always be.  Voting for the less objectionable candidate is the most basic principle of democracy."

    Well, thought Chicken Little, I have to change this.  If I could just debate these suckers, everyone would see that they're all crow and no go.
    So, Chicken Little went to the All Fowls Election Commission.  All the fowls were chickens.  Except for one duck.  The Chair Rooster was an old bird named Featherbottom.
    "Who the heck are you?" asked Featherbottom.
    "I'm Chicken Little," said Chicken Little.  "I'm running for president, and I want to participate in the presidential debates."
    "Who the heck are you?" asked Featherbottom.
    "I'm the presidential candidate of the Open Yer Freakin' Eyes Party," said Chicken Little as patiently as she could.  "I want to debate Beauregard and Erasmus."
    "Forget it," said Featherbottom.  "Your party has to have a 15%  rating in the polls before you can be in the debates."
    "If I can participate in the debates, I'm sure I will get more than 15% in the polls."
    "Forget it," said Featherbottom.
    "To get 15% in the polls, the voters have to hear my message.  To hear my message, they have to hear me debate the other candidates," objected Chicken Little.
    "Not my problem," said Featherbottom.  "If you want to be heard, advertise on TV like the others."
    "That takes money," said Chicken Little.  "Where am I supposed to find the money?"
    "Go to Foxy Loxy, like the others," suggested Featherbottom.  "Not only is he the only one wealthy enough to pay for TV ads, he also owns all the news media."
    "But Foxy Loxy is the very one I need to warn everyone about!"
    "Then you do have a problem, don't you?" said Featherbottom.  "Who the heck did you say you were, anyway?"

    Election day in the chicken yard came.  Election day in the chicken yard went.  I will not spoil the drama by telling you which candidate was elected Cock of the Walk.  Suffice to say that it was a glorious event, that few wasted their votes on an obscure third party candidate, and that the most basic principle of democracy was served.