Goodbye, cruel herd! Soon I, Mortimer, the pathetic cow you have all mocked and scorned for so long, will leave this place forever. At noon today, I am going to wander down to the railroad tracks and lie down, waiting for the 12:16 express train from Bloomington to put me out of my misery once and for all. For years, I have searched for friends on every pasture where I graze, and for years I have been hated by herefords, giggled at by guernseys, and booed by black angus bulls. Even humans do not like me! Having reached my wit's end I stood in line at a slaughterhouse, waiting eagerly to shake loose this mortal coil, and I was turned away! I was singled out by the human overlord and sent back to the fields from whence I had come, sentenced to sullenly skulk my days away in the very pastures who's rejection had pushed me to seek the sweet release of death in the first place. Oh, cruel fate! Why have you tested me so? Why is it that my udders produce only curds? Why is it that no matter how much cud I chew I remain gaunt and sickly looking? Why do I have the unfortunate dishonor of having not one, not two, but three penis shaped splotches on my hide? Why??? Fare thee well, awful pastures, and fare thee well, horrible herd- I am off to a better place, just as soon as the 12:16 express train from Bloomington comes screeching down those tracks. I pray to all that is holy that the humans have not divined some way for a train to catch a cow, for if they have I know not what I'll do.
Sincerely,
Mortimer Abondance
P.S. I've left my bell, which only clanks out the theme from "The Twilight Zone," so that my memory shall always haunt you.
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