No chicken suits. That’s the word from the Secretary of State’s office about appropriate voting-booth attire come June 8. Seems it would be interpreted as loopy advocacy against candidate Sue Lowden. “There’s something about elections and political campaigns,” says Larry Lomax, Clark County registrar of voters. “People tend to revert to the sixth-grade level.” Surprisingly, he doesn’t mean politicians; he means people so gripped by passion that they’d engage in political theater—that is, the folks who actually care. So where is the line drawn? Can an, um, engaged voter carry a rubber chicken, wear a chicken T-shirt or eat chicken at the polls? Lomax: “I would be very surprised if this happens. Where the hell are you going to get a chicken suit? They’re not easy to make.” (Apparently he’s never heard of HalloweenMart, 6230 S. Decatur Blvd., Suite 101; it has several styles, starting at $99.99.) But say someone does. “We can’t force them to take it off if they have nothing on underneath,” Lomax says. “We’re not going to let people vote without a shirt on, but they would have to leave immediately after voting.” So there you have it, as clear as politics itself: Do not wear a chicken suit to the polls. But if you (wink, wink) happen to be wearing one on June 8, and are (wink, wink) naked underneath, you should be fine ...? Not that we’re endorsing such tawdry behavior. Cluck, cluck.