On a country road in Burnworth’s van, Tom drove us through the rolling hills of northern Maryland at a leisurely pace. Passing a small farm on the right, I noticed a gigantic white cow. It was about the same size as Burnworth’s gigantic white van.
“Get a load of that gigantic white cow over there!” I said to Tom.
He slowed down and leaned over just in time to see the gigantic white cow look up and notice us. The beast snorted, lowered its head and began rumbling toward us. “Get us the hell out of here,” I yelled.
Tom hit the accelerator, and of course the gigantic white van’s engine roared but rolled us away very slowly. The gigantic white cow picked up speed and quickly pulled up alongside the gigantic white van, matching us stride-for-rpm. The enormous bovine poked its head through my open window and tried to bite me, with teeth gnashing fiercely.
Finally, the mouth caught hold of my jacket sleeve and yanked me out of the van, tossing me like a worthless sack of grits into the ditch beside the road. I got up and ran, but soon the gigantic white cow caught up and ran over me. The bright, beautiful afternoon slowly dimmed to black as I lay there bloodies and broken, wondering what becoming a meal for the gigantic white cow would be like.
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