Sheep Gag
© 2022 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by  scotikproductions



It was a nice day.

“It’s a nice day,” Donna says.

I give my little doe a little smile and a little squeeze, and she grins. “Yeah, it’s a nice day,” I say, and it was. Sunny, the park was real pretty, and there was a breeze blowing that made my ears sway around, sort of like they were listening to some good dance music, like Satanic Space Monkeys’ Diabetes of the Heart. Donna’s ears were moving too, and that was making my tail twitch.

My paw on her hip was making her tail twitch.

It was Saturday, with people laughing and children playing. There was a guy selling ice cream, and I bought two cones, one for me and one for Donna. Carrot cake ice cream, and don’t be uncool about rabbits and carrots, okay?

It’s not cool.

Like I said, it was Saturday in the park. Sure, it was Saturday in other places, too, I know that.

“Hey, bunny buck,” Donna said after we finished our ice creams.

“Yeah?”

“Check that out,” and I see her ears are angled off to the right. My ears do the same thing, rabbits have great hearing, and I hear the same thing she is.

“That’s uncool,” she said.

Yeah, it was uncool.

“Yeah, that’s uncool,” I said.

The uncool thing was a bunch of furs off to one side of the park near an intersection. Lot of yelling, but there was no music, and no singing, and no dancing. This bunch didn’t look like they were having any fun at all.

And from what me and Donna could hear, they didn’t want anyone else to have fun either.

Very uncool.

“Dude, this is very uncool,” Donna said.

“Yeah, very uncool,” and we both turned around to see who was talking.

“Hi, little woolly dude,” I said.

Donna said, “Nice pants.”

Sure enough, it was the sheep. He was wearing a really loud shirt and sure, it may look like he wasn’t wearing pants, but that was because only really cool people can see them. The pants, I mean, not anything else, I don’t go that way.

The sheep smiles at Donna. “You’re cool, but I’m not wearing pants. It’s a really nice day. Too nice to wear pants.”

I saw the sheep’s pipe moving around on the grass, chasing a butterfly and sending up little bubbles of smoke. “Is that a new pipe?” I asked.

“Ceci n’est pas une pipe,” the sheep said, and Donna giggled. More bubbles of smoke puffed out of the not-a-pipe, and some of them were carried along by the breeze.

I sniffed.

And sniffed again. “That’s good herb.”

“The very best herb,” the little woolly dude said, and he smiled as the uncool crowd at the far end of the park got louder. “That’s uncool.”

Yes, it was uncool.

“Yeah, it’s uncool,” Donna said, giggling as she put an arm around my waist. She bumped her hip against mine.

“It’s a really nice day,” the sheep said. “I want to ride my bicycle,” and he started pedaling along the sidewalk, making little “Ding ding!” noises as he went past people.

He looked like he was riding a bicycle, but you couldn’t see it. Must’ve been a really good bike, though, because his feet were about a foot off the ground.

“Hey!” someone said, “you can’t ride your bike here!”

“I want to ride my bicycle,” the sheep said, pedaling around the guy in a circle with the not-a-pipe chasing him.

“But you can’t ride it here,” the guy said.

“I want to ride it where I like,” the sheep said, “and you need to chill out, dude,” and he pedaled away from the block of ice the guy was frozen in.

Donna and I took a few breaths.

Great herb.

“You want to ride your bike?” Donna asked.

“Sure,” I told her. “Want to mount up?”

She giggled. “Maybe later, you silly buck.”

So we got on our bikes and rode. I had Donna ride in front of me, because she’s got a nice bottom and I like looking at it.

We rode around, weaving around groups of people, and followed the sheep as he pedaled over to the crowd. The not-a-pipe started puffing out more bubbles of smoke, and we circled around the crowd.

I listened to them as I rode around.

Yeah, they were uncool. They didn’t want anyone having fun.

After a few minutes Donna and I stopped riding our bikes and were walking them, and I saw two people leave the crowd. The people were a bull and a cow, and they sat down on the lawn and started eating pawfuls of grass that they pulled up.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

The bull said with his mouth full, “Grazing in the grass,” and he swallowed, “is a gas.”

“Can you dig it?” the cow asked.

“Yeah, I can dig it.” I said, taking a deep breath. “That’s great herb.”

“The very best herb,” the sheep said as he pedaled past us.

There was a lot of smoke, all around the crowd. After a while, the shouting died down and when the smoke cleared most of the crowd were sitting on the grass, watching as a few others played instruments and a few more were dancing. There was a guitar, drums and a keyboard.

You couldn’t see the instruments, but they were jamming pretty good.

“Now things are cool,” the sheep said.

“Very cool,” I said. “You’re cool, little woolly - ” I hit a storm grating, and tumbled off my bike, landing on the grass.

Donna got off her bike and went over to me as I sat up. “Hey, are you all right?” she asked.

“I fell off my bike,” I said.

“Yeah, I saw that,” and she kissed me.

“Do that again.”

She kissed me again.

I kissed her.

“Do you want to get some lunch?” she asked. “Or go back to your place?”

“How about that sandwich shop?” I asked, pointing to the far side of the park.

Donna looked. “Maybe.”

So we may or may not have had lunch at Schrödinger’s Sandwich Shop. Great pesto dressing, maybe.

When the crowd finished watching their concert, they went to one of these specialty bakeries. Nice place; they sell these cute cookies topped with icing that looks like a screaming face, and the crowd cleaned Edvard’s Munchies out of their entire stock.

Donna and me, we went back to my place after we did or didn’t have lunch at Schrödinger’s. We might have done something else, but it was going to be a spliff decision.



end