01/01/01

You’d think someone with the money woes of Hiram Palfrey would have at least tried to find out what the meteorite was really worth before he all but gave it away. Here the damn thing came all the way from Mars— from fucking Mars!— to crash down on Porch Rot’s farm and there’s no damn sense of wonderment at all! All that registers in the guy’s clinically depressed mind is that some darn rock came through his barn and killed one of his best Holsteins. He’s a got a Mars meteorite on his hands— a Shergottite basalt they call it— a piece of planetary rock knocked off Mars’ surface by an impact event and turned into a meteorite of its own kind. It’s one of the most sought after kinds of meteorites there is. But ol’ Porch Rot has no thought to safeguard the thing! And the thing’s a damn hammer! Collectors especially love meteorites that hit and destroy things. And they love destroyed things too! Like what happened back when that fireball landed in Peekskill in ‘92 and crushed that car. People loved that damn wrecked car so much they took it on a world tour! I tell yah, Hiram could have sold steaks at a premium as celestially slaughtered beef. All that’s on Porch Rot’s mind though is: it’s just another darn rock. Yeah, like the kind that fills his fucking head!

So when Hiram calls over Cadaver Dog--- the downer livestock guy--- Cadaver Dog goes into the barn to look at the dead cow and see how he’s going to winch it out to his truck, and there he finds the cow’s skull mysteriously bashed in. Then he looks up and sees sunlight shining through this hole in the ceiling of the barn.

What happened here? Dog asks.

Darn rock fell out of an airplane or something, Porch Rot replies.

Really? Dog remarks, That could be worth something. You still got the rock?

Yeah, I got it, Porch Rot grumbles as he pulls it out of a nearby pail, Darn thing!

How much you got to get for it? Dog inquires.

You think it’s worth money? Porch Rot asks with surprise.

Sure it is, Dog speaks, I’m sure it’s got to be worth something.

Enough to replace this cow? Porch Rot chuckles.

Sure, Dog replies, much to Porch Rot’s astonishment, I could get a new Holstein over here this afternoon in exchange for it.

Well, that sounds like a deal to me! Porch Rot says exuberantly, I’ll take a cow for a darn rock any day.

Yeah, I’ll take a Holstein cow over a hunk of fucking Shergottite basalt any day. Never mind that you can trade a tiny sliver from the fucking thing for like a small herd! Yeah, slick move there, Hiram! That’s the way to save the farm. Hand your saving good fortune over thoughtlessly to the local carcass hauler. . .

Good fucking gracious.