“You better watch out, you better not cry. You better not pout, I’m telling you why. Christmas Cow.”

The Christmas Cow brooded. It was the only logical emotional state after eight hours of uncontrollable weeping in a cage intended only to fatten him. For the first time in his short stupid existence, three years, he learned his true purpose, and it had absolutely nothing to do with spreading “spiritual” holiday cheer. Unless, of course, one achieves “spirituality” through dining on prime rib on Christmas Day. It’s a thing. In fact, take a look in the mirror; you may be a contributor.

The cow was in the third stage of grief: poetic flashback, right after blame. “Three years of ignorant bliss, and it all comes down to this. I have just received a Fredo Corleone kiss in return for human stomach happiness.”

The tears returned as he reminisced about his agile youth. Back in the day, he was spry enough to jump over the moon. Keep in mind, like the current President of the United States, Trump, cows have no sense of distance and hard facts. As quickly as the crying began, it stopped. Panic and silence replaced depression. It was the inviting scent of seared beef. The smell took him back to the time he meandered onto a Texas suburban patio in August. For the first time, it dawned on him why no one would look him in the eye as they ate the bread-wrapped meats. Bread-wrapped meats are cows!

The cow reached the fourth stage of grief: revenge. He would make these fleshy liars pay for all of these untruths. It was immoral for his owners to prop him up with the celebratory title of Christmas Cow, only to prepare him for an early death. He tried to release anger through his blood in hopes of tainting and toughening his meat. In the position he was in, this was all he had. SPOILER ALERT: The Christmas Cow did in fact, alter the tender, potentially delectable meat within him. His meat was so tough and bland that some of it was used to reinforce the soles of shoes.

As the Christmas Cow was slaughtered, he refused to yelp or groan, he just stared like a human teenager on heroin. He felt this would send a creepy message to the humans, or at the very least, scare them right before they went to bed that evening.

Agile