Scene: A sidewalk cafe on a pleasant spring day. Fenchurch the living cow unit sips her favorite blend of tea, taking in the fresh air. A woman walks by and, upon noticing the cow, wrinkles her nose and abruptly stops. She approaches with some hesitation.
Woman: Excuse me? Miss?
Fenchurch: *sip* Yes?
W: Why...excuse me for being so direct, but...well, what made you...want to...
F: Sign up to be turned into an exotic rubber cow?
W: ...Yes. I can't imagine ever selling my body for such a thing.
F: My body is technically on loan. You see, we sign contracts agreeing to become bovine units for up to five years. I'm six months through my term.
W: You say it so proudly.
F: I'm happy to serve.
W: But...but look at you! They've got you in that cold rubber shell, and lugging that horrible thing between your legs like some animal.
F: This "horrible thing", ma'am, is producing the purest, highest-quality milk possible. And it's actually quite comfortable once you get used to it. Would you like to touch it?
W: No! No thank you. I'm sorry if I offended you. I just...look around and see you people and I wish there were better ways for you to make money.
F: What could be better than this? I make good money. I have my own suite in the facility. Aside from twice-daily milkings I'm free to go about whatever I want to do. It's quite simply liberating.
W: Liberating? You're trapped in rubber and you have hooks attached to you!
F: Sometimes I need restraints. Milking can be so soothing that I fall asleep and collapse out of the automated milker. They use these rings to tie us upright in case that happens. And some of us are known to sleepwalk around the facility so we tether ourselves to our beds.
W: Tether yourselves?
F: Oh yes. Cow 1810 sleptwalked into a stairwell. Took a nasty tumble.
W: Oh my word!
F: She was fine. We're made durable for a reason. *knocks a knuckle on a thighpad* Must protect the milk.
W: But it's just milk.
F: Where do you think the milk you drink comes from? The population is almost at 10 billion and traditional cow farms need too much land to properly raise cattle. In fact, 60 percent of all milk is now manufactured from units like me.
W: I try to buy organic whenever I can...and not think about it the rest of the time.
F: Count yourself lucky to have that kind of a choice. In most of the world things have turned fully dependent on human-bovine conversion to supply the booming population. My herd of units, in fact, manufactures milk exclusively for a non-profit that distributes to impoverished nations. The contents of this udder are specifically formulated to provide the richest possible nourishment to infants and young children.
W: I suppose I'm just old-fashioned. I was raised on good old cow's milk like everyone else.
F: Most of the milk you drank likely came from farms that corralled their cattle in deplorably filthy facilities. They died out for a reason.
W: I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have said anything.
F: *sigh* I'm sorry, too. We're both being a bit harsh. The simple fact is, I love this body and everything that's come with it. I love it that my body can be used to benefit others. And it's difficult to hold onto that love when people I meet act like I should be upset.
W: I just don't understand, I suppose. As long as you're being treated right.
F: It's all regulated. We're required to have quality care by law. Don't you worry about me. Now excuse me, but I must be getting back. I'm being called in for my afternoon milking.
W: A call? But...where's your phone?
F: My horns have wi-fi. It was nice to meet you.
W: Um, yes... Have a good...milking. *walks away hurriedly*
F: *Smiles, shakes her head, and deposits her teacup in the return tray.*
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