Mark Edgemon has been writing for 30 years. He writes and publishes short stories, articles, poetry and scripts, as well as, produces audio comedy productions for over 700 radio stations nationwide.
Contact Mark through his website, Creator and the Catalyst.
Farmer Brown decided to change the image of his slaughterhouse, due to recent bad press, from a house of horrors to the image of a bright meadow with happy dancing cows, standing in line to be slaughtered. “The public is gullible,” he said to himself as he devised the promotional plan. “Image is everything! If you tell them something, they might believe it, but if you show it to them, they’re in your back pocket,” he said as he smiled to himself. “But the question was how to do it?”
“Laughing gas, that’s the ticket! I’ll purchase a large quantity of nitrous oxide from a medical supply place and soak an ample amount of it into facial masks, placing it over the cattle’s mouth, before leading them to a neighboring meadow for a photo shoot.”
Sure enough, the cows were laughing and mooing in harmony. They were prancing with their hoofs, tap dancing across the field and putting on quite a show. People from the neighboring farms came over to watch and soon the press was notified and was there as well.
While the dancing cows were a big hit on the talk show circuit, the cows back at the slaughterhouse held a trial for the murdering Farmer Brown, you see Farmer was actually his real name, and found him guilty of numerous counts of murder.
When the dancing cows had finished their tour, they returned to the slaughterhouse, for it was the only home they knew. The other cows served up a hay feast with ears of corn and iced tea for the celebrity cows return. When they inquired about the whereabouts of Farmer Brown, one of the cows said, Elenore, the lead milking cow kicked him in the chicken manure pit where he drowned. It was a shame too! The chickens had to find a new toilet.
Moral: Those who speak fraudulently to the gullible, may one day drown in their own crap!
Copyright © 2008 Mark Edgemon
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