Lids down, I count sheep, I count heartbeats...

Whoa. Less than a two week interval between posts? How'd I manage that? Hmm. Well, this one may not count so much, because I'm tired, and I think I'm mostly cutting and pasting from a conversation I just finished. Finished, because I said I was going to bed, which I am, because I'm tired, but first I felt a need to preserve this bit of dialogue.

As our scene opens, Laura and Jake, having told each other goodnight over an hour ago, are heatedly discussing why no one eats mutton anymore. Laura has taken up the controversial stance that artificial selection is a much more worthwhile process when breeding cows as opposed to sheep. Jake questions the logic of this argument, leading Laura to send him a link to a photo of an obscenely muscular cow, called a Belgian Blue.

Laura: Scroll down to the picture on this one.
Jake: Gah! Bulls on steroids!
Laura: Right, that's what I'm saying.... giant steriodal bulls, out to kill us all.
Laura: The sheep pale in comparison.
Jake: But most cows aren't like that.
Laura: No...
Laura: but these ones have no primary inhibitor on skeletal muscle growth.
Jake: Right, but you see what I'm asking. Making Swartzencower over there is one thing, but that doesn't explain why cows were chosen over sheep in the first place.
Laura: Right, I know. I just wanted to show you that, because it's creepy as hell.
Jake: Evil!
Laura: Well, you cut off my nightly Trigun fix. What do you expect?
Jake: Heh.
Laura: Nightmares of bloodsucking livestock for you!
Jake: You know, I go to "bed", then we converse, because I always have some topic pinging around.
Laura: Yes, yes. I've noticed.
Jake: Tonight: Mutton, where has it gone?
Laura: Heh.
Laura: Tomorrow night: Why have our ratings plummeted so sharply?

Yep. Friday nights in Turman West. Woooooooooo!