"How dare you disrespect cow folk! We are

"How dare you disrespect cow folk! We are among the most intelligent members of the ungulate family." "Cudchewers farts is messing up the weather. I hear a bald monkey say so."

"Bald monkey, Schmald monkey!" the herd replied in unison (although it sounded more like: "Moooo Mooooo!") Then, as if on cue, the cattle lifted their tails and FRRRRRRTed just to

make the greenhouse problem that much worse. Stupid cows. If it wasn't for all the lice on their backs, I wouldn't land on them and peck 'em off. I was worrying about that when

I felt myself shat. Gets me every time. I looked down and sure enough, Farmer Bob was cursing a blue streak, bird shat all down his best overalls. He grabbed a shotgun and leveled

with me. "This isn't a shotgun. It's a SHATgun. Get it?" Then he shot the shat at the short shirt, then shut it in the ship while sheep sang shark shanties at the sheets. You

should've seen the sheik shriek as his six sheep sang. He shot forth and shredded the satin sheets. On the slitted sheets he spat, and on a slatted seat he sat.

Oh shishkabab! The sheik unsheathed his stelleto. His six sheep swiftly fled. Fleece flew. Ewes excused, rams rambled, and lambs went on the ... lam.

As the crowds gathered to watch the fight, Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers and sold the sour savouries to the transfixed testifiers in their totality, however one man

Assuming the assimilating aspects of his thievery would be grim, he happily agreed that the thief must die. How? He had no idea. But he was creative. He would think of something.