Cheddar was aroused by the crackle of electricity from a cattle prod on his - er, her rear right flank.
"Mooo!" Cheddar shouted. He had reverted to bovine form. He didn't know that his head was mostly human except for the ears and horns, and he was clearly recognizable as Chad even with four hooves and a full udder.
"Should we milk Cheddar first?" Spencer asked.
"Nah, let's get her to the Brotherhood of Young Breeders Compound first. We can milk her there, and prepare some cheese wheel tests," Chad's buddy Mike secured a rope around Cheddar's neck.
Chad tried to say Mike's name to explain who he was, but all that came out was : "Mooook, Moook, MOOOOOOOK, MMMM, MMMUHD, MOOOK, MMMM, MMMUHD!"
"Aw, Mike, she really wants you to milk her," Spencer interpretted with an evil smile.
Chad glared at Spencer. He giggled.
Why was Spencer doing this? Chad figured Mike just thought he was a cow for their stupid breeding project. Breeding project? Oh, no. . They wouldn't , they couldn't. Chad's jaw dropped, as he imagined himself mounted by a bull. He didn't even notice that Mike had led him outside and up a ramp into the back of an animal trailer. Spencer showed up with a pail and stool.
"You can milk her, while I load the other milk cans, Ched filled earlier."
"MOOOOK?"
"There girl, I'll be gentle," Mike said sitting on the stool and gently petting Chad's side.
He was wearing kid gloves. He grabbed two of Chad's teats or dicks or whatever they were, and he started tugging.
"Mooo MMoo, Moook!" moaned Cheddar as he shot load after load of milk, as Mike alternated udders. Spencer loaded two big milk cans and secured them to the wall of the animal carrier, then left. He returned with another milk can, and said, "This is partially full, you can add what Chad gives you to this."
"Okay, I think Cheddar's almost empty now," Mike said lifting the big bucket which was filled to the brim. Carefully, he poured it into the milk can, and Spencer screwed the lid down. Then he fastened it with straps to the side of the carrier.
"Fifteen gallons so far, at least. We'll weigh it at the Compound."
Mike used straps on the wall to secure the stool and bucket. Then he swatted Chad's big bovine ass, and said, "Hope it was as good for you, as it was for me, Chadder." He snickered.
Chad was sure he meant to say Cheddar. The carrier doors were secured, and the van the carrier was attached to started up. Chad turned around to face the front of the carrier. There was a window in the front. As he walked toward it, Chad saw his face reflected. Mike knew! He had to know! Or maybe he saw Chad as a cow, and only since he was milked, he was starting to change back. He had to make himself known, before his udder swelled again, and he cowed out again. He felt milk being to fill his udder and moaned.
He shouted, "MOOOK! MOOOK! MIKE!" He said Mike! He took a deep breath and shouted again, "MOOOK!"
Damn. Maybe he hadn't really said Mike? Or maybe his body was waffling back and forth. If Mike could only see his Chad face? He was sure he would be saved.
The van and carrier drove noisily across the field, and along the road. At an intersection, Spencer or Mike stopped. Chad's cow ear twitched, and he discovered just how much better cow's hearing was than human's.
"So the question remains, which bull do we use to put a calf in Chad?" asked Spencer.
"Well, Goliath is the biggest, but Ferdinand, well, he comes from a long line of milkers, and then there's that Belgian one?"
"Bruggemeister is the Belgian's name," Spencer said.