Survivor Turbo - Moo With Me!

This week's challenge was to write a story about something major from the perspective of an animal.

Here's what I submitted:

The life of a cow is a simple one. I stand in my stall, chew my cud, and watch the farmer’s wife screw the random gents she finds God-knows-where. This is my nightly routine, why should tonight be any different?
Well, the farmer could come home early. I guess that could liven things up in a hurry.

“Oh, Patrick, this isn’t what it looks like” Farmer’s wife says.

“What… you…”

Farmer looks furious, the young naked man scrambling backward in the hay looks terrified. He should.

I’m not entirely sure what happens next. All I know is that about ten seconds later, the suitor is lying nude in a pool of his own blood, the pitchfork shoved crudely through his chest. Farmer O’Leary is standing over him with a crazed look in his eyes, watching the life drain from his cuckolder.

Miss O’Leary is crying uncontrolably as the Farmer returns to his senses. He begins to look frantically around the barn, but the damage has been done. He’s a murderer. He’s a dead man.

In his haste to exit the murder scene, he doesn’t notice the oil lamp. My bedding instantly bursts into flames. The farmer grabs his hysterical wife roughly by the arm and runs from the barn as the timbers catch flame.

With the barn door hanging ajar, I take my chance and trot out of the blaze and on down the street. I guess I’ll find my own meal tonight.

Because of last week's discussion, the judges will only comment on those stories which they gave a medal to. Prepare for silence on this one.

Beau:  O’Leary’s cow!  Very smart cow, too, it seems.  And awfully fond of Mrs. O’Leary.  Apocryphal, but it doesn’t make it any less fun.  BRONZE

So, obviously this is terrible. The tone of the cow's narration is inconsistent (I am confident that I will never type that sentence again), the subject matter is blunt, and the end deviates pretty heavily from the writing style of the rest of the story. Wonderful. What the hell happened?

Well, the rules of Survivor Turbo dictate that the writer is unaware of the challenge until they send in an email to an address, which gives them an automated reply back outlining the challenge and the parameters (time limit, word count, etc). Sending the email starts the clock, and the writer has a limited bit of time before the challenge is up. Anything sent in after the time is up is invalid and counts as a nonsubmission.

The night in question, Linds was working in her office and I was sitting watching the Twins get beaten up on TV. I decided I had a spare hour and sent in for the challenge. Almost instantly thereafter, Linds came out of her office and decided now would be a good time to discuss our plans for the coming weekend. Fifty minutes later, I was able to get back to the process of writing, but I only had ten minutes left.

I knew what I wanted to write about (the fabled cow that 'kicked the lamp over' and started the Great Chicago Fire), but with ten minutes, the above was the best I could do. I wasn't happy with the result at all, but at least I was able to dupe one judge into voting for it (though he's since admitted he would take my medal away if he could).

There's not much else to say about this one. It sucked, and it was up against some great entries. I guess I'll have to try to do better next week.