Removing bats once and for all

The ugly, diminutive crocodile that governed the crocodile quarters, Sir Na, had had enough. He was dealing with a fellow crocodile wanting to remove him as crocodile leader and with bats whose main home was in the trees above the crocodile quarters. Even though Sir Na had climbed up the trees when he was seeking […]

The ugly, diminutive crocodile that governed the crocodile quarters, Sir Na, had had enough. He was dealing with a fellow crocodile wanting to remove him as crocodile leader and with bats whose main home was in the trees above the crocodile quarters. Even though Sir Na had climbed up the trees when he was seeking the support of bats to become crocodile leader and rolled over on his belly to beg the leader of the bats for his support, he made a public declaration that in fact, all this while, the bats had a plan to take over the farm by blocking the sun in large numbers and destroying everything. Sir Na joined White’s genocidal farm hand Dick-Tai in killing bats, swearing to finish them off and have none of them above his quarters in the trees. 

“They defecate into the crocodile swamps below,” Sir Na said through his burnt lips, “and they want to tie us all and turn us into their slaves and turn all birds into bats but we will not let them.”

Sir Na declared the bats non animals and said that the farm was only a place for animals whose specie could be verified. “They are neither bird nor mammal and they must be destroyed.”

As he did this he kept his ear to the ground just in case the pain in White’s side would become more serious and prevent him from wanting to continue as farm manager. 

Meanwhile there were games being held between farms and the animals on White’s farm were taking part. The farm hand in charge of games, Longman, a cock with a red crown that was always foaming at the mouth, always had his feet entangled by strands of hair or ropes. His walk was awkward and unstable and he was always getting drunk from eating fermented grain. He had no idea how to handle animal games and even forgot to pay the animals representing White’s farm. When they returned, having won the games, Longman told the sports animals that he didn’t realize they would come back safe and so did not have any grain or food to pay them. 

“We did not know the journey would be a success. We were sure you would be in an accident and never come back home. We are sorry.”

And animals blamed Longman for being such a horrible farm hand and not White for choosing such a horrible farm hand. 

In the South of the farm another farm hand was screaming over elections to choose the leader of the marshlands and other local animal officials. Being from the marshlands himself, the farm hand, Rot In Me, was very concerned about animals not loyal to White winning local elections. “If they attack you,” Rot In Me told Whitist worshippers, “attack them back, gouge out their eyes and break their bones.” He could not afford to have his own marshlands being controlled by animals who were disloyal and unbelievers in the religion of Whitism. 

In the north east of the farm the wild dogs, energized from the recent ransom that White and his farm hands had paid to release some sheep and lambs, were attacking and setting animal quarters ablaze. White had declared that he had defeated the wild dogs but every week, the wild dogs attacked. And the animals in the north east suffered from famine because they were unable to cultivate crops or even buy and sell. The farm hands had closed the markets and no one dared till the ground. There were now more animals in danger of starving to death than there were in danger of being attacked by the wild dogs. And animals came from outside White’s farm due to the stench of rotting bodies and the wailing of emaciated animals. 

“There is a crisis on your farm White,” they said, “allow us help you get food to feed your starving subjects.”

And White got incensed at the suggestion that his animals were dying of starvation. He denied that animals were dying of starvation and that millions of animals were in need of urgent food supplies. 

“No one is starving on my farm,” White grumbled, “they are fine. They are just slimming for fashion. We have a fashion show coming up soon and they are all not eating so they can win this competition that has a huge grain prize. How dare you say my animals are dying of starvation?”

And the animals continued to die of starvation.

And Sir Na continued to kill bats. 

And wild dogs continued to attack sheep and lambs. 

And the cost of grain continued to increase on the farm. 

And all the worshippers of White blamed everyone but White for the deteriorating state of affairs on the farm. 

And all the while, White walked around, hiding the pain in his side, watching people argue about which farm hand should be fired, silent.