22 Dancing Cows

The sun beat down on Hayday Farm, the usual symphony of chirping birds and buzzing bees replaced by an off-key, mooing chorus. Farmer Bart squinted through the heat haze, jaw slack as he surveyed the scene before him. His prize herd, usually as placid as overstuffed armchairs, were engaged in an… unorthodox activity.

Twenty-two cows, a kaleidoscope of black and white, were standing on their hind legs, hooves pawing the air in a clumsy ballet. Their normally placid faces were contorted in concentration, tongues lolling out like red party streamers. The mooing, once a soothing lullaby, was now a frantic yodel, punctuated by the occasional snort and the rhythmic thud of hooves on grass.

"What in the blue blazes?" Bart muttered, scratching his head. He'd seen his fair share of oddities in his years as a farmer – runaway chickens, a pig who thought it was a sheepdog – but this took the cake.

Tentatively, he approached the mooing maelstrom, pitchfork held aloft like a wary fencer. The cows, oblivious to his presence, continued their bovine boogie. One particularly enthusiastic Holstein, Blessy by name, spun a pirouette, narrowly missing Bart's hat. He ducked, yelping, and nearly tripped over a Jersey in mid-plié.

"Alright, settle down, you grass-munching goofballs!" Bart bellowed, waving his pitchfork. The mooing faltered, then died away altogether. The cows, chests heaving, stared at him with big, liquid eyes.

"Blessy, what in tarnation is going on here?" Bart demanded, addressing the Holstein who'd nearly decapitated him.

Blessy blinked, then let out a long, mournful moo. "It's the radio, Farmer Bart," she mooed, her voice thick with bovine despair. "The new station, Moo FM. They play nothin' but hoof-stompin' polkas and yodeling bluegrass. We can't help ourselves, our hooves just gotta move!"

Bart's jaw dropped. Moo FM? He hadn't heard of it. Must be one of those newfangled satellite stations beamed down from space. He pictured aliens in cowboy hats, cackling as they watched his cows do the jitterbug.

Well, this wouldn't do. He couldn't have his prize herd prancing around like a barnyard Busby Berkeley musical. He had milking to do, cheese to make, manure to… well, you get the picture.

Thinking fast, Bart grabbed his banjo, a dusty relic from his college days. He tuned it with a practiced ear, then launched into a lively bluegrass tune. The cows, perked up at the familiar twang, their hooves twitching to the beat.

Slowly, tentatively, they began to move. Not the polka pandemonium of before, but a gentle two-step, a bovine barn dance. Blessy, ever the star, twirled her partner, a shy Angus bull named Angus (naturally), their hooves kicking up tufts of grass. The other cows joined in, a mooing chorus accompanying Bart's banjo.

Hayday Farm wasn't just a dairy anymore; it was a barnyard hootenanny, complete with dancing cows and a banjo-playing farmer. The news spread like wildfire, and soon, people were pouring in from miles around to witness the spectacle. City slickers in stilettos and Stetsons mingled with hayseed farmers, all clapping their hands and stomping their feet.

Bart became an overnight sensation. He even got a mention on Good Morning America, the cows mooing live into the camera. Moo FM, embarrassed by the negative publicity, switched to classical music.

And so, Hayday Farm became the Moo-ving and Grooving Dairy, a tourist destination where city folk could escape the hustle and bustle and dance with the cows. Blessy, the star ballerina, even had her own fan club, complete with hand-painted cowbell maracas.

As for Bart, he never looked back. He traded his pitchfork for a microphone, his overalls for sequined chaps, and became the world's first yodeling banjo-playing dairy farmer. And every night, under the twinkling stars, he and his dancing cows would put on a show, a moo-ving testament to the power of music and a good old-fashioned barnyard boogie.

WORD COUNT: 645 Words
WRITTEN FOR: "The Writer's Cramp"  | "WINNER & NEW PROMPT Due Sunday January 28"  
PROMPT:
In honor of the birthday celebrations of 22 Years, please write a story or poem that has the title:

"22 Dancing Cows"

As one of your genres, please select: "Comedy"