Iowa Appreciator

Down at the barn office of Horned Glory Ranch & Creamery, three iron-thewed, broad-chested minotaur brothers sit around an Ikea conference table, clad in J. Crew chinos and moisture-wicking performance polos. “Well, boys.” Eldest brother and Ranch Boss Dun Plowback stands up. “We’re cooked.” Youngest brother Brindle Plowback looks up. “Cooked?” “Like wagyu pot-au-feu.” Brindle blinks. “How are we cooked? “It’s simple,” Dun says. “We’ve been milking the wrong thing.” “The wrong thing?” Middle brother Grullo Plowback adjusts his tiny, round-frame Windsor glasses. “What wrong thing?” “Us,” Dun says. “All day at the Glory holes.” “I don’t see how that’s the wrong thing,” Grullo grunts. “Felt right to me.” Dun scowls. “Of course, it felt right to you.” Grullo shrugs. “But it’s hours of productivity lost with nothing to show for it.” “Nothing to show for it?” Brindle scoffs. “Have you seen the milkmaids when we’re done? There’s plenty to show for it!” “Yeah, but we can’t 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘭 it.” “Oh?” Brindle tilts his head. “Why not?” “Why no—Because we’re a dairy farm!” “Oh, that’s—” Brindle blinks. “It’s not dairy?” “No,” Dun deadpans. “But we’re cows.” “Not everything that comes out of a cow is dairy!” “Also you’re a bull,” Grullo says. “I know,” Brindle replies. “But sometimes I feel like a cow.” Dun sighs. “I’m bi-cow-rious.” “That’s not even the right term.” Grullo grunts. “It’s Gender Moo-tual.” “Oh. Really?” Grullo nods. “I read about it on Grazr.” “Huh.” Brindle thoughtfully taps his chin. “Do you think I should change my pasture pronouns to Heif/Her?” “Guys.” Dun snaps his fingers. “We’re getting off track.” Brindle and Grullo look up. “This is serious, alright? Truth told, the whole farm’s damn near bankrupt.” “Oh no,” Brindle gasps. “Will we have to sell?” “We will,” Dun gravely intones. “Unless we make some big changes around here.” “Oh no.” “Big, big changes. Which means playtime’s over.” Grullo removes his glasses. “Here we go.” “First off, no more Glory holes.” Grullo rubs the bridge of his snout. “This is the worst day of my life.” “Secondly, we’ve got to let the milkmaids go. All of them.” Grullo slaps the table. “The worst day!” “But Dun, where will they go?” Brindle asks. “How will the girls survive in this economy?” “I don’t know, Brindle,” Dun wearily replies. “But they’re all young, bubbly blondes who know how to grasp a problem vice tight with both hands and never let go until they get results. These girls are the Cream of the Crop and, God willing, someone out there will see the innate talent in these Tenacious Tens and give them all the hard, fulfilling employment they deserve.” Brindle nods. “God, I hope so.” Grullo grunts. “So is there any good news, or are we just gonna be suckin’ on prairie pies for the rest of our lives?” Dun nods. “There is. I’ve used the last of our liquidity to buy a cow.” “Nice! Wait.” Brindle tilts his head. “Do we have any cows?” “No,” Dun says. “This will be our first.” Brindle looks at Grullo. “You know, us being a dairy farm with no cows was probably an obvious portent of impending financial insolvency.” Grullo grunts. Dun leans over and shouts to the door. “Mindy, come on in!” A young busty brunette skips into the conference room and sidles up beside the eldest brother. She’s wearing a piebald sling bikini with a cow ear headband. “This is our new cow, Mindy.” Mindy waves. “Hello.” “Does anyone have any questions?” Grullo skeptically rubs his chin. “A brunette huh?” “Oh, I do!” Brindle raises his hand. “Yes, Brindle.” Brindle lowers his hand. “Okay, question one: Why is our cow a twenty-something human hottie with undulous udders and a Grade A fat flank that makes my tenderloins feel funny?” Mindy giggles. “She’s a Hucow, Brindle.” “A Hucow?” Dun nods. “Mindy is a strong-willed, hot-shot vice president for a nationally recognized advertising agency who has sadly fallen on hard times and must now moonlight as a disgraced dairy dispenser at our ranch, just to make ends meet.” Grullo furrows his brow. “If you’re a VP, why didn’t you just invest in the Magnificent 7? Or dump everything in the SP500?” Mindy sheepishly grins. “I put all my assets in FingeredFairyCoin and got rug-pulled.” “Ah.” Grullo clicks his tongue. “Crypto.” “Well jeez.” Brindle shifts in his chair. “Now I feel like we’re taking advantage of her.” “Ah, right, so this is very important.” Dun claps his hands together. “No matter how depraved or deranged Mindy’s experience becomes, it is imperative that it remains 100% consensual and abides by the rules and guidelines laid out in our Employee Code of Conduct.” Brindle blinks. “We have an Employee Code of Conduct?” Grullo cocks a brow. “And an HR department?” “Well, no and no,” Dun admits. “I generated a PDF with ChatGPT.” “Right.” Grullo snorts. “If we did they’d be up to the eyeballs in liability mitigation.” “The point is that if the EEOC or a payment processor or a major self-publishing platform were to review our business practices, it needs to be crystal clear that everything happening on this farm is relentlessly, unyielding consensual at all times. Understand?” Brindle glances between Dun and Mindy. “Even if I saddle her with a bit and bridle and make her crawl out to the parlor on her hands and knees so I can hook her up to the Teat Tugger 9000?” Dun nods. “Even if you saddle her with a bit and bridle and make her crawl out to the parlor on her hands and knees so you can hook her up to the Teat Tugger 9000—it’s all completely, 100% consensual. Isn’t that right, Mindy?” “Completely, 100% consensual,” Mindy nods. “Even when it inevitably makes me question everything I’ve come to believe about myself as a self-made independent business woman, an empowered feminist, and a human being.” Brindle shrugs. “Works for me.” “Grullo, do you have any questions?” The bespectacled minotaur shakes his head. “Nope. I look forward to having her on the team.” He grins. “𝘈𝘯𝘥 teaming her.” Mindy giggles while Grullo and Brindle high-five. “Alright, daylight’s wasting people, so get out there!” Everyone stands up and files out of the room. “Keep it consensual, abide by the Employee Code of Conduct, and carry yourselves with pride. We’re Horned Glory Ranch & Creamery, people!” Ranch Boss Dun declares, planting his hands on his hips. “And I’m trying to run a respectable business around here!” *** Read the rest in 𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗞𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗟𝗜𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗: 𝐴 𝑆𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝐻𝑢𝑐𝑜𝑤 𝑋 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑢𝑟 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 7 𝐵𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑐𝑦 𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑧𝑎!!!