“Swiss cows send texts to announce they’re in heat” says the headline in the New York Times. In addition to telling us how Swiss cows send texts, the article informs us that many of them are named “Fiona” and “Bella.”
Picture, then, a pasture on the slope of a particularly picturesque Alp — did I just invent a new tongue-twister? The farmer is drinking a restorative mug of Swiss hot chocolate when suddenly his cell phone rings, or in his case, cuckoos. The following text-message exchange ensues.
Bella: I’m in heat.
Farmer: Can U wait?
Farmer: Just give me half an hour.
Bella: Bull. Here. NOW.
Farmer: The bull is, um, Skyping.
Farmer: With his brother in Zurich.
Bella: He’s with Fiona isn’t he.
Farmer: Now don’t get your udders in a twist –
Farmer: Chill, Bella. You’ll sour your milk.
Bella: Bring me the bull or I’ll sour your fucking FARM.
Farmer: Done already? How did it go?
Fiona: I’ve had better. And longer. Talk about your In-N-Out burger.
Farmer: How’s the bull?
Fiona: Knackered. Passed out. Snoring. Not even a cud-dle.
Fiona: Cud-dle. Do you see what I did there?
Farmer: Wake him up!
Fiona: Fat chance. Look, I’m still in the moo’d here.
Fiona: In the moo’d? For love? Oh FFS. I’m still in heat, you noodle.
Fiona: What R U going to do about it?
Bella: Yo! I’ve just knocked the door of my stall down.
Bella: And now I’m going to set the hay on fire. U know, with this HEAT that I’m in.
Farmer: Look, the bull’s a dud.
Bella: R U kidding me?
Farmer: He’s asleep. Fiona’s still in heat. I know U don’t care about my problems, but –
Bella: Fiona’s still in heat?
Bella: In her stall?