Annie's Goat.

Annie's goat stood out in the middle of the turnip field munching away in
broad day light, not a care in the world, eyes rolling, big yellow goat
teeth grinding away in extended bliss.
William, who had given fare warning time and time again, stood on his door
step loading his shot gun. He raised the barrel and took aim. A metal
squeaking sound in the near distance warned of the Vicar's arrival has he
pedaled with all his might up the hill toward the turnip field where Erasmus
the goat, oblivious of all oncoming circumstances of a possible becoming the
immediate ingredients in the town's Fast Food Kebab special dish, didn't
give a bleat if he should promptly, in a highly
undignified manner be unsympathetically wrapped in a local newspaper and
served to some unthankful, overweighted, pimple nosed youth in greasy
sneakers who would eagerly, no doubt, cover him in a thick lair of foreign
spices, chewed on.

...................Please continue.