Grip of the Icy Hands

"Look, Daisy, what came in yesterday!" An gnarly old man and a lanky little girl enter the room. "It's a blue-pied one. One of th' best dairy cattle, twenty thousand pounds per lactate period."

You startle and rise to your feet -- only that there seem to be 4 of them now.

"She's so pretty! Can I milk her, uncle Ernest?" The girl skips towards you. "You need'a be careful with these fellas when they're new," the man replies. "First lemme show ya how it's done."

He proceeds to shove the small desk towards you -- which looks more and more like a milking stool. Panicking, you try to jump out of your bed which is little more than a heystack, but a rope around your neck prevents you from running. "I'M NOT A COW!" you scream, but all that comes out is "MOOOH!"

"Easy here now!" The man produces a bucket and sits down. You throw yourself against the rope, but before you can react, he reaches between your legs and closes his grip. His hands are ICE COLD.


The End

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