The End Of The Vegan Sheep

"We are not evil. We want to remove a mistake we made," the media spokesman of Not-Evil-Biochemicals Inc. told the audience of journalists. 

"Who even had this weird idea? I heard about many things, but nobody tried to create a vegan sheep that is alive and out of potato salad!" One expert of the pastoral magazine Sheep Dies In Darkness asked him.

"Well, the scientists who lead the project are German; we as well had no chance to get sauerkraut, so we were kind of in a bind, you know."

"This is interesting to know, but certainly not the main point. I hope so."

"Believe me, the first time I heard about it, I had the same thought. It happened to be the case that one of the research teams went out of control. No communication with HQ. We were as surprised and shocked as the public."

"That is what you claim," a famous ugly-faced British YouTuber entered the discussion. "But still, you want to profit from it with comedic marketing. Seriously, who had the idea to give the person who returns the animal a weekly rent of 5kg potatoes for the rest of their life."

"We have a deep-seated love for the animal - our CEO is Welsh."

"Did I understand this correctly? So, the german scientists sat together with the welsh CEO and said, 'We like potatoes, you like sheep. Let's give the person who returns it potatoes. Deal? Deal!'"

"As I wasn't there, I can't confirm or deny that this was part of the discussion."

"Has there been any clues in regards to the sheep?"

"Yes, there have been clues. There is a good chance that you will see today it returning to us."

"I know we are poor, but that poor?" A small child asked his mother.

"Yes, that poor. It is our luck to be in such a position. That the sheep has emerged close to our woodhouse is a wonder."

"But, mom! I love the sheep."

"I can see that, but honestly, it is not ours. We have to give it back. If not, I dare you to clean the fluids that this sheep leaks. I have no idea what those are, but they smell great."

"Moooohom, I really don't want to."

"Charles, you are eight years old now. You got to have some respect for the property of others. Remember the issues with the neighbors and their 'kidnapped' dog? The problem started because you can't stay away from other's property."

Charles pouted. As the mother prepared the sheep for transportation in her Jeep, she regularly had to push Charles to the side. "Be nice," she told him.

"Is this really true?" A journalist asked.

"Yes," the media spokesperson answered. 

"I don't want to say any minute now, but I don't want to say late this day either."

A knock at the door. A child comes running in, crying.

"Nooooo, I hate all of you. It is my sheep. I hate you. I hate you."

"Well," - the spokesperson looked awkward to the right - "looks like our sheep is here now! Applause."

Nobody applauded. He reacted with a grimace. The child cry-screamed and didn't seem to have any intention of stopping.

Everyone heard a loud slap. Many in the room were shocked.

"I am sorry that my son reacted that bad. He isn't his usual self since his father went away." - she forced a smile - "He is usually such a good boy. Please don't misjudge him."

"Oh, that is okay," the spokesperson commented and looked towards the other grown-ups. "Everyone here did such a thing when they were young, right?" 

Muttering everywhere in the room. One could hear some "yes.", "indeed." and related in between the noise.

"No need to worry," he closed the file.

"Thank you," she smiled. The sheep slowly emerged from behind her and greeted them with a short "potato!" sound. 

"This is bullshit!" One of the journalists shouted. 

"The potato animal says potato like some Pokemon!"

Others joined his complaining. The mother was uncomfortable.

"Well, well, new science is always weird," the spokesperson reacted to their complaining. 

"Don't you want to take a closer look at the animal?" He asked them and took the mother by the hand. They, together with the son, stood a bit apart. 

"Don't worry, they will forget you after today," he assured her. 

"Thanks," was her short answer.

The cameras bathed the sheep in flashes. So far, it took it with humor. It didn't attack anybody. It just looked at the people and said "potato!" over and over again. Nonetheless, one could feel the change in the air.

Charles was the first to pick up on it. He pulled at the long skirt of his mother, "Soon." The spokesperson only heard half of that short word but instantly understood. With hurried steps, he moved towards the sheep.

"Go away," he said and pulled the journalists away from the sheep as if they weight a feather.

Now the sheep bent its head back then to the left side, the right side. The spokesperson changed his body into a position in which he could easily catch the mad sheep.

"Come," he baited it.

The sheep moved its head forward fast like it wanted to ram someone around it. He instantly jumped on it. He was able to grab the sheep, but not for long enough. The mayonnaise of the potato salad leaked through the sheep's skin. The situation now was closer to a mud wrestling match than was anticipated. 

"I love this sh*t," the YouTuber commented. One look at his camera gave him satisfaction. Enough space for a long video of potato sheep mud wrestling. This will go viral, oh boy.

The sheep was able to hit several journalists.

"I am so done with this job," the spokesperson said resignedly. "But it looks like I have to do it." I moved towards the podium from which he gave the press conference earlier. In a small side part of it was a box hidden. While the journalists tried to run away from the sheep, he opened the box. It was massive. A big wooden fork. A mix between a pitchfork and a lunch fork. It was made out of original bavarian wood. 

"This is your end," he judged the sheep.

He turned back towards the sheep. Without any hint of danger, he took one step after another in its direction. It moved faster - he stayed at a steady pace. When one journalist lay in front of him, he just walked over him, his eyes fixated on the price.

"Potato!" He baited the sheep. It turned around and looked into his eyes. 

"Bye," he said, and with one swing, the wooden fork hit the head of the sheep. Its reaction was akin to an explosion. The body fell on the floor as dozen of potatoes full of mayonnaise flew around the room. Several journalists were hit, but more important was that the small boy Charles got a big potato straight against his head.

Charles felt uncomfortable all the time. It turned even worse when he saw the spokesperson with a fork. He could vividly imagine his friend die but what he saw was worse than whatever he could come up with. With his head down, he slowly moved towards the salad corpse.

"Hey," he said towards it and kneeled down. He wrapped his arm around it. His tears mixed with the mayonnaise that bled from the neck of the potato salad sheep.

When the spokesperson saw all the fleshlights of the camera turning this moment into a personal history that many people will feel affected by, he just knew one thing: There won't be another experiment like this in the near future.