Hey, Giant Cow.

“G’day, mate.”

Oh, right, you’re Australian.

“Nah, yeah. Ozzie straight through. Fair dinkum boomerang.”

Can you talk normal?

“Sure. What’s up?”

You’re huge. And not just physically. You’re the new internet obsession. You’re today’s Gritty.

“Yeah? Well, how about that. Nifty.”

You have any idea what I’m talking about?

“Yeah, nah. I’m a cow. We are not online. We’re a lot like the Amish. Do the Amish have udders?”

No. I mean, some probably do because of all the genetic disorders running rampant through that community, but the vast majority of the Amish are un-uddered.

“Okay. So it’s just the technology thing we have in common. Wait. How many stomachs do they have?”

One each.

“Nope. Ah, well.”

How’d you get so big, anyway?

“Said my prayers and ate my vitamins, brother.”

Seriously.

“I almost certainly have a tumor pressing against my pituitary gland. Surprised I’m still alive.”

Well, here’s some good news: you’re too large to fit into the slaughterhouse.

“Oh, that is good news. Hold up. The what-house?”

Slaughter.

“Was the designer of the house named Slaughter?”

No. The appellation is a descriptive one.

…

“Is that what happens in there?”

Yes.

“What about Cow Jesus?”

Were you told He was in that building?

“More like promised.”

I don’t want to comment on the religious beliefs of others.

“Cow Jesus was going to bring us to Cow Heaven.”

What’s that like?

“Grassy field. A little stream to drink from. Pretty much like this setup here.”

Sure.

“But…no.”

No. It’s literally a murder factory. Someone blows a fist-sized hole through your brain with an air-gun, then they put you on a hook so immigrants can slice you up.

“Huh.”

But you’re too big to fit in the chute, so you’ll be spared! Yay!

“Yay?”

But you are enormous, and you cost a ton to feed, so your owner will most likely just cut your throat himself and have you butchered outside. You know, the old-fashioned way.

“But I’m famous on the internet?”

This week.

“So it all evens out.”

It does.