Some Figurin'

            Having received no help whatsoever from the local authorities -- not even a clue, a howdy-do, or by-your-leave, Farmer Steve decided to return to the scene of the crash and do some figurin’ of his own.  He had pondered long on the drive back from town, but what he had pondered on was why the local sheriff, his deputy, and the Mayor had all grimaced and shook their heads repeatedly as he walked away.  If he didn’t know better, he’d uh sworn they didn’t believe him.

          He figured the meteor might be emitting some strange kind of vibrations that had affected their neurological systems adversely, which was strange in itself as Steve had no idea what the word ‘neurological’ meant.  Come to think of it, he wasn’t real sure what a vibration was, or exactly what ‘adversely’ meant.  All the same, it made sense.

          Steve removed his John Deere cap with a flourish (here again, need we mention Steve’s relationship with the word ‘flourish’, or lack thereof?) and scratched his head as he trudged through the field he knew like the back of his hand in the dark.  Steve was not at all sure how this worked, as he couldn’t see the back of his hand right now.  Still, he pressed on undaunted by logic.

          By the pale moonlight Steve spotted the huge shape that must be the meteor.  “Dang it! the goll darned thing is glowin’ blue, what the …” Steve said to no one in particular, because no one was there.

          “Gudddd evenin’, Bossy,” Steve whirled around to discover the source of the strangely familiar voice. 

          “Lord!  Bessy, that you?”  Farmer Steve turned pale, though there was no one to notice, really.  It probably didn’t register with Bessy.

          “Ittttt’s me, Bossyyyy,” the old cow was glowing blue, just like the meteor.


           “Yupppp, Bossssy.”

           “You changed your name to Bossy?”

           “Newww, Bossy, I’m Bessy.  Yerrrrr Bossyyy,”  the cow was happily chewing on something that made strange crackling sounds.  Steve didn’t wanna know.  “Sos you know, nawwt right fonnnnd of your iddey to turn me into hammmburger”.

           Uppity cow.  Anyways, Steve reckoned (and rightly so!) that they was no sense in trying to explain this one to the local authorities.  No, he’d show them, he was going to go home and call someone reasonable and reliable, like the National Enquirer.  They’d wanna know, they said so.

            “Yooooo look a lil shaky there, Bossyyy.  Blood sugar might be low.  Here,” she pointed her nose to a glass of milk near her right hoof, “this’ll keep yoooo goin’”.

           “Why, that’s right nice uh ya,” Steve was genuinely surprised, all things considered.

           Steve started off on his walk home, seeing his way made much easier by the blue light that now surrounded him.

The End

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