The Adventures of Kim at the Barn
One day, our heroine was working at the barn, tending to the every whim and fancy of the horses and their respective owners, just as she did every single other day of her life. Ahh, the life of a barn-slave.
The morning chores had gone well. All of the horses had been relatively quiet that morning. In fact, they were so well behaved that Kim was finished early! That never happens! She felt so lucky that she did a little hop, skip and a jump as she finished preparing the horse’s dinners. Shortly thereafter she left the barn to go about her day, planning on returning around 4pm, as usual, to bring the horses in and feed them their dinner.
Kim got back to the barn at 4:46pm that day, she was running late as she had to stop and buy a new bat for her beer league baseball team. It was a good thing she did because, little did she know she’d be using that bat for something other than batting practice in the not too distant future.
Just as she was heading out towards the paddocks to bring in the first horse, the ground began to shake intermittently.
Boom! Boom! Squishslide Boom. BOOM!
“What the?” Kim said to no one in particular as she turned towards the sound. It was coming from the back of the property. She waited as the thing made its way up the hill towards her. As it crested the ridge the horror of it began to dawn on Kim. It was a monstrous mutant zombie rat!
“Oh no!” said Kim aloud to herself. “I can’t let that thing near the horses!” So she dashed quickly inside and grabbed the first weaponizable object she came across: a shovel. She then dashed back outside to her car and grabbed the baseball bat from her trunk. Kim had seen a horror movie at some point in her life and it taught her to always have a backup weapon when monstrous mutant zombie rats are involved.
Eventually, as the thing was very slow, the monstrous mutant zombie rat made its way to Kim and began to gnash its jaws in her general direction – it’s vision and depth perception weren’t the best given that one gigantic eyeball was hanging from the socket.
Kim took her time, lined up her shot, and flailed madly in its general direction. Eventually she did manage to land a hit or two but nothing that would vanquish the beast back to the hellfire from whence it came.
“If only I had a stick of dynamite!” Kim cried out in frustrations to the heavens.
A stick of dynamite appeared in her hand. She walked back to the barn to trade the shovel for her bat. Bat in hand, she took aim and cracked the dynamite right into the monstrous mutant zombie rat’s empty eye socket.
And with a valiant stab to the neck with her trusty shovel, Kim posed with her knee upon the rat’s head, proud of herself for having conquered the monstrous mutant zombie rat.
The moral, kiddies, is you only get what you wish for if it’s a stick of dynamite.