Cow 35 & 36 faced one another & scooped

Cow 35 & 36 faced one another & scooped dirt up on to their back with their hooves, snorted and banged their heads together locking horns. The crowd of farmers cheered

. Bovine fights had become the latest underground sensation in the rural midwest. Late at night, in basements of grain elevators, bets were placed on "Mad Cow" and "Udder Doom."

I wagered $25 on "Mad Cow" to take out "Udder Doom" in the 4th round as she reminded me of an uncle who had suffered from bovine spongiform encephalopathy. The two cows circled and

milked the drama for all it was worth. The two cows didn't want to fight, they wanted to cud-dle. The crowd was cheesed because they didn't get to see the fight.

So they uppercutted the cows to death. The sudden influx of beef

standing in the street with her red hair piled so high it made a perfect target. So they settled instead for plinking at the empty milk bottles that littered the pasture. This made

for good fun and it was better than being mistaken for the acquaintance of a red-headed street walker. Or worse, the attacker of one. One plink through her target like hair and we

made it to Narnia, our escape. Aslan's hair could be used to transport ourselves anywhere back on Earth without a time shift, so he was payed grand amounts from the illegal money

, which he then donated to charity. In two shakes of a lamb's tail, we were back where we started, as if nothing at all had happened. It DID happen, didn't it?