a couple on a cycling honymoon pull in at a farm house looking for a bed for the night,
3 days later they were still in the bedroom,
farmer giles,under pressure from his wife, taps on the door and enquires after there
wellbeing as none of the provided food had been eaten,
we are fine was the tired responce, we are living on the foods of love,

o said mr gilles, in that case would you not chuck the skins out the window,
there choking the chickens