The chicken of Versailles

Oh, Marie. Sorry. Oh, Marie-Antoinette. (she hates it when we shorten her name) Who could have known that your name would inspire you to be such a revolutionary? While all the other chickens happily forge in the spaces we’ve outlined, Marie-Antoinette is regularly spotted anywhere she decides a chicken of her standing should be. Dogs are of no consequence. When not dining on fresh grass near the house she observes the daily lives of ordinary chickens foolishly wasting their powers of flight behind the poultry netting. We think she sleeps in a tree high above her kingdom, dreaming of cake.