Saturday Bonus - Looking for hot chickens

Well, not precisely, but it got your attention, didn't it you perverts?*

Some weeks ago, a good friend of mine wasn't feeling too good and was feeling rather chilled, and not in the good, blissed-out sense. Fortunately, she had some comfortable slippers, a pair that could be made even more comfortable via a brief spell in a microwave oven. (Essentially, they're a shaped pair of wheat bags, similar to those I use for my headaches - although I don't tend to heat mine, or wear them on my feet...)
Not so fortunately, they developed a problem. And this problem led to an immediate misunderstanding on my part...

Initially, I had absolutely NO idea what to think. My mind literally boggled. And then parts of it we desperately trying to shut down or disown my damnable imagination as it came up with weirder and weirder explanations. I think it says something about me, something unpleasant, that I never managed to even come close to the mundane reality that was needing feathers to replace the lost wheat.
Shame on me. My friend certainly heaped scorn upon me, even if it was leavened (spot the vaguely bread-themed gag, pun pals!) with a lashing of amicable humour...

* Many apologies to Gonzo the Great, who has perfectly normal relationships with chickens. Normal for him, that is...