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                                  BOVINE DEATH
                                 by  The Raver

                      >>> A CULT Publication......1988 <<<
                        -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-

           ...Just when you thought you'd read all you could handle...

        John woke up.  It was always a hard thing for him to do.  Groggily he
pulled the covers back and sat up.  He rubbed his puffy eyes and looked at the
clock.  Squinting to read the time, the clock said 7:15.  He dragged himself
out of the bed.  He had a long, hard day ahead of him....

        After breakfast he slipped into his denim coveralls and donned his
"CAT" hat.  John was, by trade, a rancher.  But he supplemented his meager
earnings by slaughtering his livestock so that he could sell the cold meat to
Winn Dixie.  With a sigh, John headed out to kill some cows.

        When he got to the cattle pen he noticed an unusual thing.  All of
the cows were crowded around one, exceptionally big cow.  John stared in
amazement at the cow.  She was, as I have said, quite a bit larger then the
other cows that thronged about her.  John thought to himself that this fine
bovine specimen would bring him quite a bit of cash.  So naturally, he
gathered up some of his hands and together they herded her into the slaughter-
house.  While they did this they were continually plagued by the mooing of
the other cows.

        Finally when they had her in one of the slaughter pens, John dismissed
all of the hands so that they could attend to their other various and sundry
chores.  John climbed up on the railings, dragging his trusty sledgehammer with
him.  The head, covered with dried blood, was nicknamed "Cowbane" by John.  He
then hopped over into the pen and petted the great cow to calm her.  He then
hefted mighty "Cowbane".  As the hammer rested high in the air, the cow mooed
very softly.  The hammer came roaring downwards with a force that John knew
could not be shrugged off by any creature.  The hammer impacted on the cow's
skull and splinters of bone shot forth in every direction.  Blood spurted out
into the air in the dim light of the slaughterhouse.  Gore and brain tissue
welled forth from the gaping cow.  John nearly fell down when the cow turned
her head to him and mooed again.  John stifled a yelp and brought the hammer of
death down again.  More blood shot forth, covering him with a sticky crimson.
Again the cow mooed.  John brought the hammer down again... and again....

        The cow hit the ground with a heavy thud.  By the time John was sure
that the cow was dead he let the hammer fall to his feet with a groan.  He
wiped the gore off of his hands.  As he shakily lit a Marlboro he heard a faint
mooing sound.  He looked down at the cow.  John staggered back, the lit
cigarette falling to the hay-covered floor.  The cow twitched and began to lift
her great mass to her feet.  It was a gruesome sight.  The cow's head was
gaping with bloody holes and blood and tissue dripped from it.  John screamed.
A single moo erupted from the cow's torn and bloody maw.  John fell against the
railing, sweating profusely.  From out in the cattle pen, John heard many moos
and the sound of shuffling hooves.  The great cow mooed again and impaled John
in the stomach with part of her exposed spinal column.  John screamed again.
Blood flowed.  The cow gored John with vigorous intensity.  The sound of mooing
filled the air.  At last, the cow removed herself from John and he slid to the

        There was a slight crackling sound and a small column of smoke rose
forth from where John had earlier dropped his Marlboro.  A patch of flame
appeared and danced in the dim light.  The cow struck John in the face with one
of her front hooves.  The sound of cracking bones accompanied the gurgling
sounds of flowing blood.  The cow mooed.  The flames roared forth.

 (c)1988  cDc communications  by The Raver                           3/27/88-61
 All Rights Worth Shit