"On my god, I did?" Dwayne asked.
"The element of surprise will go a long way in not getting gored by the Cows," he said. "We are heading into Indiana in the next hour."
"Yes? And?" I needed some facts—not hints.
"The Dung's main compound is right outside Indianapolis. I saw we pay the Cows a visit before they extend an invite."
"Won't this screw with Angela's schedule?" Granny asked gleefully.
Soon I'd have to get the full story from Granny about her time partnering with my boss.
"Do I look like I care?" Hank inquired with an evil smirk.
"Nope, you don't," I said. "Furthermore, I think making Angela and her Dragon buddy come to us somewhere outside of Chicago is safer."
"Brilliant! Damn, I should marry you," Hank yelled.
"You already are." I laughed and held up my left hand, showing off my beautiful ring.
"I sure am a smart guy."
I threw my arms around his neck and laid a big one on his full beautiful lips. "Yes, you certainly are."
***
"Is this a joke?" I asked as we stood at the rickety wooden gate of a compound with a stench that made my eyes water. The enormous hand painted sign read, DUNG FARM. We Moo For You. All Trespassers Will Be Eaten. Open To The Public On Mondays For Milk. Bring Your Own Damn Jug.
"I told you they weren't very bright," Dwayne whispered as he held his nose. "They eat their mates. Which begs the question, how are they still here?"
"Maybe they're hermaphrodites and can impregnate themselves," Granny suggested. "You know, they take themselves out to a nice dinner and then dance a little and then feel themselves up and get all randy and then WHAM. Next thing you know… preggers."
That pretty much rendered everyone silent while we contemplated her absurdly wrong and horrifying nugget.
"I'm gonna have to go with a no goddamned way on that theory," Hank choked out as he put his hand over his mouth to keep from hurling.
"I'm with Hank on that one," I said as I struggled not to gag.
"Just a thought," Granny huffed defensively. "I don't hear you brainiacs coming up with a logical possibility."
"It's a fine hypothesis," Dwayne told her with a weak thumbs up. "It's simply a bit vomit-inducing."
"It might be," Granny agreed with a shudder, "but it makes sense."
"God, I really hope you're wrong," I said, joining her with a shudder of my own.
We had parked the Hummer at a Krispy Kreme about five miles away and hoofed it to the Were Cow's lair. Granny had polished off a dozen doughnuts on our hike and still complained about being hungry.
Indiana was flat with very little brush—no place to hide. Thankfully we had waited till dark to approach.
"Do we have a plan?" I asked.
"It's a dairy farm," Hank stated the obvious.
"Yep."
"I'm thirsty. Let's go in and buy some milk," Hank said with a grin.
"Um, it's ten at night on a Tuesday," I said, just in case no one else had actually read the entire sign. I was all for walking in and shaking it up; I just wanted to make sure we all had the intel.
"Oh my Donna Summer, this is exciting," Dwayne squealed as he bobbed up and down. "Of course we could be walking into a bloody and violent death, but it's just so naughty. Reminds me of the time I streaked in Pamplona at the Running of the Bulls about eighty years ago. I lost my left leg and my right test… "
"Stop," I said as I slapped my hand over Dwayne's mouth. "I just can't. Not right now."
"Later?" he asked.
"Possibly," I muttered.
"Anyhoo, thankfully it all grew back," he explained.
"That's… great," Hank said with a wince. "Back to the matter at hand—we go in diamond formation. I'm in front, Dwayne in back in case they recognize him, and Essie and Granny flank my sides. If it goes bad quickly we shift and go back-to-back. Dwayne, be prepared to do a mind meld."
"Oh dude," I moaned and paled. "I was hoping to never see one of those."
"They are a bit messy and stinky," Dwayne admitted, "but they get the job done."
"It couldn't reek any more than this place already does," Granny grumbled as she pulled a colorful scarf out of her cleavage and tied it over her nose. "Anybody want a kerchief?"
She pulled several more out of her bra and handed them out. On any other day, I'd hesitate to wear something that had been nestled in my Granny's bosom for twenty-four hours, but the stench was horrific. We looked like a band of designer burglars.
"Everyone armed?" Hank questioned as he checked his guns and knives.
"Yep," I said as I felt for my Glock.
"Locked and loaded," Granny said.
"Dwayne does not need weapons," my BFF reminded us. "Dwayne is a weapon."
Hank shook his head and looked up to the Heavens for a moment. "Let's do it."
"Wait," I spluttered. "Is there anything I need to know about a Were Cow before we go in… considering I was, you know… absent the day it was studied in school."
The laughter from my posse made me want to punch them in their heads. However, I knew I deserved it.
"I get it," I admitted sheepishly. "I do get it, but giving me shit aside, is there anything I should be aware of?"