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A Punny Story for LornaWritten 1/8/99, by the Chosen of Fate, for payment of A Chance auctioned by Lorna.
Once u-pun a time I herd a story, a barnyard tail which so cowed me that I sheepishly retreated to my quarters with a "Hay now, that's the last straw!" until I felt more stable (I was stalled there quite some time). It went something like this:
The animals were feeling cocky one morning and some of them were horsing around, crowing about how nifty they were. Bess, the cow, had just had a calf and was milking the attention she got for all it was worth. "I'm just in such a good moooood," she remarked to anyone who would listen.
"Quit dogging us with that bull," said the horse. "You know you'll just farm the baby out to someone else."
"Are you kidding?" said the goat. "She'll hoof it over to anyone who'll admire her baby."
Bess tossed her head and said, "You're just jealous because I got lucky. Can't we all just love one an udder?"
"I think that'd be the bestial of all worlds," agreed the goat.
"Holstein it right there!" said Hank the Mule. "I don't mean to sound like an ass, but I am stuck on the horns of a dilemma: if we're getting into that sort of thing, who should I ram first? In Jersey we take these things seriously."
"Yuck!" said Bess.
"Ha! Got your goat!" said Hank. "Now don't have a cow, you can just cat around like you always do."
Bess said, "Veal, all right, I suppose. I mean, I don't want to be accused of a fowl display of temper, or of being chickenI'm just concerned about my baby, I don't want to leave his rearing up to chance."
"Oh you're so full of bull!" said Hank.
"Screw ewe!" snapped Bess. "Just because you're low in the pecking order doesn't mean you get to pull the wool over our eyes!"
"I'm sick of cowtowing to you!" said Hank. "You get your feathers ruffled over nothing and I'm tired of it! I'm crying fowl!"
Bess, angry at Hank's root manners, goosed him. He'd never had an eggperience like that before and was nearly shellshocked. He considered her reaction cow-ardly. He hammed it up, acting very offended, until Bess accused him of being boarish.
He fielded her accusation calmly - what else cud he do? It was all just one long bad yolk, really.
We hope you have enjoyed our little story: not just over the top, but over the moon.