The angry eggs stumble out of their workouts, shells still glistening with sweat, only to find themselves ambushed. Buckets of hot tar are dumped over them, and feathers rain down, sticking to every curve. They slip, slide, and squawk in shock as the crowd laughs and jeers. Pride and strength mean nothing now. The angry eggs have been tarred and feathered.
whimsical image of an extremely angry anthropomorphic oval egg with arms and legs ; a blonde ponytail on top of her egg head and pink lips ; bright flashy pastel 1980s style workout headband, wristbands, and sneakers ; with a look of disapproval on her face holding a drab round Quaker rice cake unenthusiastically ...