Chapter 3: The Freedom Sheep
Philip roughly pulled the newborn lamb from Emily and ran to the stage clutching the poor creature who was bleating in distress. In his excitement, and his desire to impress Billy Goat, Philip had accidentally let a fart slip out. Everyone heard it rip and Philip tried to continue and pretend it wasn't him. Momentarily distracted by Emily's terrified bleating as her lamb was taken from her, the flock suddenly turned on her quite aggressively.
'Don't be so selfish Emily!' they baaed together. She quickly drew a breath and composed herself.
'Of course you're welcome Oh Great Goaty One.' she said 'you know best,' she bleated sheepishly.
With a smug look on his face Billy Goat reminded the flock that whoever let that fart out would be tracked and traced via the new smartpants app.
'Whoever you are don't think you got away with it.' he said in a nasty tone. He was looking directly at Philip with his beady little eyes with his glasses perched on the end of his nose. He said this as Philip handed him the newborn lamb.
Shit thought Philip as he left the stage awkwardly I hope it wasn't a shart. A large wet ugly stain had appeared on the back of his Smartpants .The anxiety was getting to Philip. He was trying too hard to impress and to be an obedient Sheep and it was backfiring on him. His flatulence was going to be his downfall. He decided there and then that he would cut back on his food intake, it was the only way to save his skin and reduce his carbon emissions in the process.
Harold witnessed this absurd scene and it shook him to his core.
'This is so wrong in so many ways why can't they see it?' he said to Aran. They were both hidden in the Douglas Firs that surrounded the field.
As Billy Goat was leaving with The lamb under his arms he spotted the Douglas Firs and thought 'Oh I need a new floor for my castle I'll take those trees with me.
He hopped into his black BMW and they roared off leaving a great cloud of exhaust fumes hanging in the air.
'Send for some diggers and have those trees chopped down and delivered to my castle!' they heard him say. As Harold and Aran overheard this they exchanged horrified looks.
'So our farts are a problem, our CO2 emissions are a problem, yeah sure, one rule for him and one for the rest of us.' said Aran.
Harold couldn't help but shed a tear. This was all so wrong on so many levels.
The next day all the Rainbow Sheep were there at the front of the queue for the sheep dip, waving their pom-poms and banners, singing Madonna's 'True Blue Baby I Love You,' as they entered the tent and came through the other side dyed bright blue.
Soon all the flock were blue and Aran and Harold couldn't tell who was who, they all looked the same. In the process they had all gone gender neutral and all lambs had mysteriously disappeared. The blue flock now ostracized Aran and Harold and wouldn't let them mix with the flock at all. They were to stay at the end of the field on their own and all the flock ignored them.
They had found Miguel slumped in his pod and had taken his body away and dumped it on the rubbish heap at the back of the field. Somebody would dispose of it later. This was becoming a common occurrence and the flock started to believe it was down to Harold and Aran's disobedience and non-pants wearing. Their lethal farts were now killing them! The flock were starting to get more and more angry and that anger was naturally directed at the outsiders Harold and Aran.
The smartpants started to cause many problems for the flock. With no air circulation and the pants becoming damp they all developed nasty rashes around their bottoms. A putrid miasma surrounded the flock but none of them seemed to care. They just accepted each new rule with gusto. The robodogs now patrolled the flock sniffing the sheep's bottoms and harassing anyone who farted. Arrests were made daily and sheep were dragged off to solitary confinement and fed a bland diet of bugs to cure them of flatulence.
Many of the sheep had become dreadfully constipated from not been able to go to the toilet when they needed and many had become bloated from holding their farts in. Many had started belching and all in all it was thoroughly unpleasant. The health of the flock was now in danger. But they questioned nothing and soon had no freedom at all.
Philip had, over a few months, starved himself to death and was found a shadow of his former self slumped like Elvis Presley dead on the toilet. His body was dragged away quietly and dumped. Each death was blamed on the non-compliance of Harold and Aran or blamed directly to the flock for not complying enough. So they also started to turn on each other. Reporting misdemeanors to the Robodogs on a special hotline that had been installed.
New rules came every day and it was hard for the sheep to keep up with it all you can do this but you can't do that, the next day it would flip around so they made mistakes. Many sheep just stayed in their pod and didn't risk going out at all and just pooed in their pants and watched BaaBaa sheep videos.
Harold and Aran decided they needed to get out of the field and escape but the robodogs were patrolling them and had viciously attacked them before when they had demonstrated. Aran was still quite shook up from the day before and every time the flock caught sight of him they bleated in unison 'Shut up Karen! Shut up Karen.'
It hadn't helped when Harold had called him Karen by mistake when they were having breakfast.
'Fuck off Harold!' he said. If looks could kill Harold would have been dead on the spot.
So they hatched a plan to run for the hills. They needed to distract the robodogs and then make a run for it. Harold thought for a while and came up with a plan to distract them by saying that they had seen them on a BaaBaa video and all the sheep were laughing at them. This infuriated the robodogs and they both trotted off to the big screen to see what was going on. As soon as they had turned their backs Harold and Aran ran for the hills. By the time the robodogs got back Harold and Aran were nowhere to be seen.
They ran as fast as they could up a hill and over a mountain and only stopped when it got dark. They decided to settle down for the night and found a sheltered spot overlooking the valley.
Emotions were running high and in one way they were excited to be free but in another the sadness and grief were almost unbearable. The last six months they had gone through so much. They had lost their friends and this is what caused them the most grief. They had lost their home, their freedom and basically their life. Their bodies shook with the grief of it all and it swept over them the horror of all that had happened and what was still going on.
They sat together in silence and watched the pale moon rise over the valley. Then something stirred in Harold and he got up and sang for the first time since this new world had begun. He began with a haunting rendition of 'The Green Green Grass of Home' that moved Aran to tears. He ended with a spectacular rendition of the welsh classic 'Myfanwy'. Singing it in Welsh he had never felt more Welsh in his life.
Paham mae dicter, O Myfanwy,
Yn llenwi'th lygaid duon di?
A'th ruddiau tirion, O Myfanwy,
Aran got caught up in the moment even though he wasn't Welsh himself he shouted out a little inappropriately 'Yaki Da! Yaki da!'. Harold gave him a withering look.
'Sorry man that's the only Welsh I know.' said Aran.
'Iechyd da.' said Harold pronouncing it correctly.
'No worries, that was beautiful just beautiful!' sobbed Aran.
Aye, it was nice to sing again.
They curled up together and settled down for the night. Everything would seem better in the morning. Harold put his fleecy arm around Aran and said 'no one will ever call you Karen again Aran.'
With that they both slipped into a deep, profound sleep.
The next morning as the dawn broke Harold and Aran awoke to the sound of loud bleating.
'Baaaa! Baaaa!' they heard and as they opened their eyes they saw a group of fierce looking wild mountain sheep had surrounded them and were peering at them inquisitively.
An old wizened mountain sheep stepped forward from the gnarly flock and in a deep commanding voice said: 'I am Cornelius the leader of this flock. Who are you and what is your business here?'
'We are the Freedom Sheep,' Harold explained. 'We have escaped from our prison and come in peace oh wooly brothers. We seek only to be free to do what we want to do as nature intended'
Cornelius regarded them wisely, his friendly eyes bright and clear in the morning light.
'We are all free sheep here!' he boomed enthusiastically, 'Free thinking sheep with minds of our own. Welcome to the free world young sheeplings. Come and join our flock.'
Harold and Aran couldn't stop smiling.
'Wow so it's true there are still free thinking sheep in the world.' said Aran.
'Yes indeed there are,' said Cornelius 'and there's quite a lot of us. Come, allow me to introduce you to the rest of the flock.'
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