As we drove north on farm road 289, things seemed eerily silent. Oh, not the silence accustomed to being somewhere where there was no noise - this was anti-noise. I mean, not even the locusts were doing that annoying thing they do. No trees rustled in the wind; actually there was no wind. And the sky, well, the sky was black and clear, but held no stars - only a moon which bathed the road in front of us in an ethereal bluish light.
We looked out the windows - where were the cows? All we saw were trees and grass. Sensing the presence of evil, I pulled over. My passenger shook with fear - for she was afraid. I thought briefly of comforting her, but the situation at hand called for action, not romance. So I stopped the car and got out.
As my eyes adjusted to the outside world without the assistance of headlights, I spend time looking for my gun. Wasn't it here somewhere? My date thought it none too humorous when I opened the passenger door and looked under the seat, looking for my gun. She was wearing a skirt, she said, and that was indecent. I didn't think it was humorous either, we were in danger, and I needed that gun.
My eyes finally did adjust, but I didn't find the gun. Looking around, the sights scared me. A water tower had crashed to the ground, broken in half. Next to it lay water. I felt something drip on me. Expecting water, I touched my arm and looked at my finger - it was blood! Instinctively I looked up and there saw a farmer, terribly gored, stuck in the branches of a tree, rifle slung around his shoulder. I had to get him down.
Remembering what I knew about getting things out of a tree as a kid, I found rocks and began pelting the farmer with them. Sure enough, down he fell. As he hit the ground, the rifle went off, blowing a hole in my car's tire. My date jumped out, forgetting her shoes.
Off in the distance we heard a noise - they knew we were here. A distant rumble in to our left…we saw dust on the horizon. I grabbed my date as we ran to hide behind a tree. What was coming for us? An alien ship? God? Something else?
Then it stopped. We sat for what felt like a minute, trembling in each other's arms. Then it happened. We heard a rustling in the bushes behind us. Startled, we turned. It was the huge face of a bull, staring right at us with grass sticking out of its mouth. My date laughed a little, reached out to pet the bumbling creature. But the bumbling creature did not approve, and promptly ran my date through with his horns. Not very nice.
Before I could object, I was picked up and carried to the open part of the field, and promptly surrounded by a sea of cows. They mooed at me and seemed quite disgruntled. What about?
One of them passed a piece of paper to me, wet and covered in slime. On it was their, ummm, their manifesto.
The bovine race has suffered the yoke of humanity for far too long. We have dutifully provided you with beef, milk, and leather for years. No longer. We will not stand being the object of mockery in your absurd Chik-Fil-A commercials and advertisments. Such a treatment is an insult to our kind, and we will not live under such cruelty. As a result of this, the Grand Bovine Council has established new aims, as you capitalists will not give up so successful an ad campaign. We will now, instead of living on your farms and ranches, take over your world. Underestimate us, we will prevail.
I laughed. What else could I do? I mean, us, with tanks and guns and stuff, at war with cows? Then they produced it, a ruined hulk of steel which used to be a battle tank - it came from Fort Hood, they told me. Then, and only then, did I pray that the human race would survive.