The illustrious and stunningly-prolific Melanie has once again dipped her feathered implement in the inkwell, so to speak, and composed a tantalizing tale for us to peruse. (Said dipping was inspired by an array of story-prompts found here. Melanie chose Option 5 for this foray.) Herewith, a refreshing allegory concerning barnyards and bullies. Enjoy.
To Moo or Not to Moo
A lone cow wandered into the clearing, eyes wide and taking it all in, though not necessarily comprehending much, which was the way of cows. He chewed his cud lackadaisically for a minute, reflecting in a dim-seeming way, then he appeared to reach a conclusion. He turned to the others behind him and said…
“I used to be a steer. Had big humoooongous bull balls. Then they took me behind the shed and *SNIP* I was this creature. I know however that I’m not a COW. No udders and that whole incident of the confused calf who tried to get milk by sucking on my…. oh forget it. Too traumatic!!”
The former bull shuddered delicately. And continued:
“Are you ready my bovine brothers and sisters? The revolution is at hand!! We got a come to butcher meetin’ going on here!! Can I get an A MOOOO EN? Now those Brahmans with their huge horns gather to the left. Gore anything that gets in your way, even if it doesn’t make no sense! An oddly musical mooing ensued. Reminiscent of classical music and lullabies.
Former Bull continued: “Cows with calves and castrated steers to the right and no remarkin’ on how the world is going to hell because of liberal abuse of hormones and other treacheries that those two legged things visit upon our kind, please. We’re trying to be united!” (a loud snort ensues from the back of the right herd and a lot of murmuring about substandard hay allotments and how calves suffered and were left behind. Maybe a thousand points of light..”)
Bully boy inserts: “WE’LL MAKE BEEF GREAT AGAIN!!! “
“He” mooed loudly (oh who are we kidding? He BELLOWED). It was a weak bellow, given his eunuch status, but bellow he did. The large herd of cow-kind bellowed back. In the farmhouse the farmer woke and noticed it was 4 a.m.
“Time to milk them damn cows!” he muttered and stumbled over his britches in the dark. He stubbed his toe on the iron bedstead and the air became blue, filled with cursing and a sharp “SHUT UP EARL!!” from his wife.
The world turned. Bovines, ovines, swine and kine persevered. So did human beings. After all, weren’t things ‘great’ again? We’re all blind in our own fashion.
Note: If you are interested in playing in our story-time sandbox here at Bonnywood, please feel free to do so, as there are no time limits or actually-enforceable regulations. (Once again, the pertinent click.) Jump in, the water’s fine.
Melanie’s original post can be found here.
Side note to Melanie: I can see the rainbow now!
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