Tuesday, September 1, 2009

The Diabolical Cow

Long black shadows clung to the bases of trees and the foundation of the farmhouse like tattered dress socks. As the sun sank, its light and warmth deserted the farm's 100 acres, causing evil to roam.

Evil had a name.

Evil had a shape.

Evil even had its own trough and favorite grazing spots.

Evil was named Mort, and Mort was shaped like a cow, because he was one.

"Moo hoo ha ha!" he cackled, galumphing nastily out of his cow nest. "I greet the night, and the night greets me with bugs! Splendid." Mort checked his watch. Yeeeessss...exactly 8:00 PM. Time to go shit on the farmer's front lawn. He tiphoofed past the sleeping swine and the lousy horses and came upon the lawn.

"Blast!" The lawn was in aggravatingly impeccable condition. Not a single dead spot to be found. "I don't understand it! I've been shitting on his lawn for weeks now, and it only seems to get greener!"