Roads exist in this story. Eggs are the descendents of the existence of roads in this story. Many people are confused and still ask what came first. Ron Gardenhire laughs, but isn't sure why. A good number of students base their senior thesis on the idea of God being a chicken. Seminars discuss dichotomy in nature. Students screamed for duality. A few continue to cheer for the chicken. Ron Gardenhire has a pennant that says 'Chicken'. A professor stands up and walks to the blackboard. He picks up the chalk and writes, “The road or the egg.” He underlines ‘road’ twice. The egg clucks. Everyone laughs. When they stop laughing the egg is gone. Ron Gardenhire is sitting in the corner naked.
The egg has gone to visit his brother. Ron Gardenhire and the egg's brother don't live in the desert anymore. Monday says, “There is a place where everyone is breakfast. Someone once ate me with pancakes in Derek, Kansas.” Ron Gardenhire smiles when he hears the word 'Pancakes'. The egg remembered reading of a place where 76 % of the population had the same name. Monday said, “There is a place where everyone has the same name.”
No one in Minnesota has the same name. No one in Minnesota is named ‘Ron Gardenhire’. Everyone is named ‘sand pit.’ Minnesota has three Ron Gardenhires. One is a vegetarian. There are roads in Minnesota. When I was young I tried to count all the roads in Minnesota. I sat in my closet and counted to zero then fell asleep or maybe I lost interest when my grandfather drove me to a sandpit, told me to get out, closed the passenger door, and said, “Grow up,” before driving off. Three sandpits in Minnesota are named ‘Ron Gardenhire.’ There are thousands of sand pits in Minnesota. None of them are vegetarian.
Monday said, “I would like to change my name.” Bald figurines thought this was a good idea, but they did not have eyebrows and forgot who was talking. They tried to touch their heads and ask the passing roads what happened to their hair. They had no hands. They had no mouths.
The egg tried to say, “I’ll be Monday and you can be egg,” but gave up and thought, “I am a bald figurine.” Ron Gardenhire said, "I have hair."
I did not like to see the egg like this. I switched on the incubator. I forgot what an incubator was supposed to do. Regardless, the egg did not cooperate. It rotated its head completely around and surprised everyone by eating a road. The road was both Ron Gardenhire and Monday. No scientific explanations were offered. Conspiracy theories found their way into the editorial pages of high school newspapers. Monday died as both a road and as a Ron Gardenhire. It was either his first death or the 10,000th time he died. Those are the only two options. Nine months later Monday returned to the world as an egg. The cycle of life was complete. There was no longer a dilemma of what came first. The first thing Monday did was change his name to Ron Gardenhire. The judged waved and said, “Goodbye Monday.”