Note, by the way, how in this nightmare Mr Chicken (or is ir Mr Dog? How do fable creature marriages work?) displays an appropriate amount of slack-jawed, newspaper-dropping shock at this horrendous turn of events. In this worst of all possible worlds, hubby is there for her. He doesn't really matter; his reaction is irrelevant, as are his comforts. Deep down, all Mrs Chicken loves is that no one else can have her peach muffins. All she cares about.
Anyway, I was going to make a joke about how no hacker in the world could be paid to leak Ma Chicken's secret recipe, or about how utterly unbelievable it is that she'd store such information on an electronic device, but then I thought over what kind of characters and authors we're talking about here and realized when this chicken woman says "We've been hacked" what she means is that Mrs Rabbit looted her recipe box when they were over for supper last time and the local gossip magazine's website is having a field day with it.
I'm your humble critic, and I believe truth should be told.
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