[A scribbled note, tacked to the wall in the Crone by the bar]

Mister Bock, now you are dead there were so many things left unsaid you were cute with feathers brown you were the most handsome chicken in town You wobbled and waggled, fat and pleased I am very sad that you are deceased

A strange, wild-haired woman that smells of sewers is seen weeping loudly as she reads the poem. Various others in the inn are heard commenting on how they wish they got to Mr. Bock first...