Fluffy Cow Quotes

Why? Because you feed on fluffy little baby cows and chickens and I feed on mortals?

It was the same book, every day. The pages of said book were rounded and soft where Young Sam had chewed them, but to one person in this nursery this was the book of books, the greatest story ever told. Vimes didn't need to read it any more. He knew it by heart. It was called Where's My Cow? The unidentified complainant had lost their cow. That was the story, really. Page one started promisingly: Where's my cow? Is that my cow? It goes, "Baa!" It is a sheep! That's not my cow! Then the author began to get to grips with their material: Where's my cow? Is that my cow? It goes, "Neigh!" It is a horse! That's not my cow! At this point the author had reached an agony of creation and was writing from the racked depths of their soul. Where's my cow? Is that my cow? It goes, "Hruuugh!" It is a hippopotamus! That's not my cow! This was a good evening. Young Sam was already grinning widely and crowing along with the plot. Eventually, the cow would be found. It was that much of a pageturner. Of course, some suspense was lent by the fact that all other animals were presented in some way that could have confused a kitten, who perhaps had been raised in a darkened room. The horse was standing in front of a hatstand, as they so often did, and the hippo was eating at a trough against which was an upturned pitchfork. Seen from the wrong direction, the tableau might look for just one second like a cow ... Young Sam loved it, anyway. It must have been the most cuddled book in the world. Nevertheless, it bothered Vimes, even though he'd got really good at the noises and would go up against any man in his rendition of the "Hruuugh!" But was this a book for a city kid? When would he ever hear these noises? In the city the only sound those animals would make was "sizzle" But the nursery was full of the conspiracy, with baa-lambs and teddy bears and fluffy ducklings everywhere he looked.

He supposed it would be considered pastoral-there were trees clustered in a meadow, with two muscular black cows and two improbably fluffy sheep arranged beneath them-and in the sky were two winged cherubs so fat that surely the miracle in question as how they have gotten aloft at all. They would have needed to have the wingspans of albatrosses, not those foolish wee flaps sprouting from their shoulders, he decided, irritated. One of the cows was looking up at them with what he fancied was an expression of surpise and alarm. Which was precisely the expression he would wear if he'd suddenly noticed two fat cherubs bearing down on him.

There were several different kinds of beasts that I found, as I teleported from valley to valley, hillside to hillside, as the sky lightened with the rising sun. White, clucking birds, fluffy sheep, spotted cows, pink pigs. I was able to understand them by using my Chi to perceive their thoughts, but their language was very basic and they mostly communicated with each other through grunts and noises. “What is your name?” I asked a particular chicken with my mind voice. “I am a chicken,” it thought back. “Bawk!” it said aloud. “What is your purpose?” “I am eating.” The bird scratched at the ground with its goofy yellow feet, pulling plant seeds out of the tall grass. As the morning went on, I noticed that some of the larger, more complicated creatures, the mobs, as I was taught they were called, burst into flames as the sun settled higher into the sky! Skeletons and zombies raced around, frantic and on fire, until they burned up and left behind nothing but piles of ash, bones, and charred meat. What an interesting world. As I teleported into the shadows of a tall, dark forest, I found a lone zombie hiding from the sun under a pine tree. He held a metal shovel in his hand—a Minecraftian tool. “Excuse me,” I said into his mind. “Who…? Who’s there?” the zombie asked in a dull, slow voice. The creature looked around with black eyes. I stepped out from the shadows to where it couldn’t help but notice me. It’s not like I was trying to hide before—I don’t know how it didn’t see me. The zombie’s face stretched in surprise. “Oh!” it cried. “You surprised me! So sneaky!” It settled down, paused, and stood vacant for a moment before speaking again. “What you want?” “I was wondering … why does the sun sets zombies on fire?” I said into its mind. The zombie was shocked. “The sun sets zombies on fire?!” It was suddenly very aware of the sunlight just outside of the shadow of the tree, and the poor undead creature clutched at the pine’s trunk to keep away from the light. “Elias,” I suddenly heard in my mind. The voice of another Enderman. “Behind you.