A couple goes for a meal at a Chinese restaurant and orders the "Chicken Surprise." The waiter brings the meal, served in a lidded cast-iron pot. Just as the wife is about to serve herself

Here's a completion of that joke:

A couple goes for a meal at a Chinese restaurant and orders the "Chicken Surprise." The waiter brings the meal, served in a lidded cast-iron pot. Just as the wife is about to serve herself, the lid suddenly begins to rattle violently. A muffled squawking sound emanates from within, followed by a frantic scratching.

The wife, fork poised mid-air, freezes, her eyes widening in alarm. "Harold," she whispers, poking her husband with her elbow, "did you hear that? Is… is our chicken still alive?"

Harold, who was just about to dive into the spring rolls, leans closer to the pot, a look of growing concern on his face. "Blimey, Mildred, I think you're right! It sounds like it's trying to escape! Maybe 'Chicken Surprise' means it's a surprise for the chicken, too?"

Suddenly, the lid flies off with a clatter, revealing not a beautifully cooked meal, but a very ruffled, very indignant, and surprisingly agile live rooster that promptly leaps out of the pot, squawking furiously. It lands squarely on the pristine white tablecloth, scattering chopsticks, soy sauce packets, and tiny porcelain ducks in its wake.

The entire restaurant falls silent. Then, a collective gasp. The rooster, clearly bewildered but not deterred, lets out another triumphant crow, flaps its wings majestically, and then, with surprising speed, makes a dash for the kitchen door.

The chef, a tiny man with a very tall hat, bursts out of the kitchen, wielding a wok like a shield and shouting in Mandarin. A chaotic chase ensues, with the rooster dodging tables, flapping over unsuspecting diners' heads, and narrowly avoiding a tray of steaming dumplings. Waiters abandon their trays, patrons duck under tables, and a small child bursts into tears, convinced he's just witnessed a dragon.

Harold and Mildred, meanwhile, are left staring at the empty pot, a single, lonely fortune cookie sitting amidst the wreckage. Harold finally turns to his wife, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Well, darling," he says, picking up the fortune cookie, "you certainly can't say it wasn't a surprise." He cracks it open and reads aloud: "'You will experience an unexpected, feathery adventure.'"

Just then, they hear a triumphant squawk from the kitchen, followed by a crash. Harold sighs. "I suppose that means dessert is probably canceled."