From the Sheeplog Experts...



TOPIC: "My Summer Vacation"

Every summer I try to use my vacation to experience something new. Like last year I rode the Lacrimofabulator roller coaster instead of riding the Spleenboggler for the umpteenth time. This year I was thinking of trying something besides a secretion-based theme park, when a friend invited me to join him in a Civil War battle re-enactment.

We went to Appomattox on the re-enactment day and upon arrival were simply told to go to "Field Number Five." So when we got to Field Number Five, I asked the general didn’t he want to know if we are going to be Confederate or Union soldiers, and he said you can’t be soldiers—we need you to play sheep.

I’m like, we can’t PLAY sheep; we ARE sheep. And he said well then you must be Confederates because they don’t PLAY the war, either.

"Look, what are our lines?" I asked.
"You don’t have any lines. You stay BEHIND the lines and you don’t talk—you’re sheep!" the general shouted, completely unfazed by the fact that he was speaking to a sheep.

"Sir!" I insisted in my military-best, clipped speech. "We are spending our vacation to come re-enact Appomattox. We want uniforms, guns and lines to speak. Sir."
"We don’t have uniforms for our sheep enactors."

"Okay, then just let me have a few lines," I begged.
"I don’t know what a sheep would say in the heat of battle," the general admitted. "Can’t you make something up?"

"Well, am I a rebel? And, if so, should I talk with a drawl?" I asked. I just wanted to get it right.
"Yeah, sure. Be a southern sheep and talk like a southern sheep," he said. "Now, eat some grass or something while I gather my Union soldiers."

"Wait. You’re a Union general?!"
"Yes. Note my blue uniform. Don’t you know your history?" the general said snobbishly.

"Then why did you say I’m a southern sheep? What would I be doing here with you?" I wondered quite loudly.
"Quit talking like that," he answered. "Those aren’t your lines."

I practically screamed in exasperation, "I asked for some lines a minute ago and you told me to make some up."
"Why would I tell you that?" he sniffed, inspecting his fingernails. "I don’t even believe the rebel sheep said anything worth repeating."

I couldn’t stand it any longer. Throwing up my hands in frustration I yelled, "I give up!"

He grinned, "That…was…AWESOME!" Then he grandly called out across the valley, "The rebel sheep surrendered!"

Everyone cheered. "You gotta come back next year," the general gushed. My friend and I smiled…sheepishly.