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Have a cow fetus tea party

By that time, several people had stopped to watch and stayed as I laid a frilly pink tablecloth, set the china and treats out and placed each cow fetus in their chairs. After the first batch of tea brewed, I picked up the kettle and started serving my guests, while saying things like “Would you like some more tea, Mr. Bovine Head,” and “Bessie, you hardly touched your scone. Are you feeling okay?” Then I sat down with my friends and enjoyed scintillating conversation and luscious treats. Of course, I had to answer for my cow fetuses, but that just made it all the more fun, as I spoke in squeaky voices and answered my own questions in fetusy ways. “Oh yes Car, I absolutely love formaldehyde scented with rose oil.” (Bessie always was a Prima Donna.)

At first, no one else sat down with us, but I was glad to be out with my cow fetuses, showing the world a part of myself. Then, as the day went on, several people ventured into the empty seats and joined the party. (After I started offering people fifty bucks to do so.) No one stayed for more than a few bites of Mother’s cooking, but her avant-garde meals always got that sort of reaction. All in all, it was a great success.

My simple display filled people with such joy that they couldn’t stop laughing, even after they walked down the street a way. And they all felt inspired to tell cow fetus related jokes, although some were a little harsh. There must be a lot of insult comics where I live. I’ll have to look them up and go to a show.

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