"Some people are just so gullible," farmer Joe Whitley said shaking his head as the large North American bison bull materialized in his pasture. It was the third beast today. When he'd paid his $400 annual subscription to compuslave.com he figured he'd be lucky if he got a couple animals. From the look of this one he must have been visiting one of the "vacation sites." It was about the only time he got bison, and at $10 per pound or more, Whitley wished he got more of them.
He glanced at the family of shetland ponies in the pen to his left. He hadn't known what to do with them, he figured it was probably a family trying to get a cheap Scottish vacation, fortunately he'd found a petting zoo that wanted them, or it would have been the dog food plant for them. Whitley had a soft spot for families. What a man or woman did to themselves, he figured they deserved, but when they involved innocent children he drew the line there.
Ken blinked, instead of his bedroom, there were rolling grasslands stretching out to the horizon. He looked down at his hooves, and bellowed trying out his new lungs. He turned and saw the fence with the farmer leaning against it. He nodded to the farmer, who just stood there shaking his head. Something about the scene unnerved Ken, it wasn't what he had expected. He figured that it was probably the absence of color from his vision that unnerved him. He started to eat the grass, he was very hungry.