To lock horns with a goat

I was at a squibble at somebody's farm... Cardboard box... Pedophile... Homology... Zombiebaron zombiebaron zombiebaron. Zombiebaron, zombiebaron! Had too many beers. Imitation fake vomit... NO TRESPASSING sign, and there I found the strange falling-down-around-itself building containing the goats. Hundreds of them! Dozens... Operating system... We ask only that you give us your heart. It may have been painted red. What in God's holy name was that place? I have no idea, not to this very day. Red paint, maybe a drinking bucket or a table... Salad fork...

'Strange people,' thought Charles Rowland. He found himself wondering about insanity, but adults were strange, and he had few criteria by which to judge them. I put my head down, WHAM, we crashed against each other and locked sticks. And indeed there will be time, there will be time to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet.

Oh fuck, the memories fade out about then; blood loss? Centrifuge... Heretic... Always double-check your math if there are explosives involved. Blood all over... Salad fork...