Stypula - Sheep's Clothing - 1

Harrison Stypula About 1100 Words

SEL 153 1H
Dr. Michael Arnzen
2/27/21

Sheep’s Clothing

“I just don’t know what to do about it. There’s something about the beady, soulless little eyes

that make me so nervous. I’m positive they know more than they’re letting on, they’re absolutely

infuriating to look upon. I don’t know, I just know there’s something up with them, something

horrible and sinister.”

Dr. Rames peered over the edge of her glasses at the nervous man in the chair in front of

her in the most stereotypically psychiatrist-like way of staring at someone from over the rim of

your glasses.

“Rob,” she began, sighing as the man before her squeezed the pillow he held out of

nervousness. “I think it’s time that we stopped the gentle easing into it. I think you’re ready for

the next big step.” She set her clipboard on the table upside down to prevent him from seeing,

though her notes only read Kill me now.

“And what step is that exactly?”

“You’re going to take some mandatory time off work. Then you’re going to face your

fears and go see a sheep. I’ll even write you a doctor’s note for it. Do you understand me?”

“But, but, bu-”

“Nope I’m not hearing it Rob, you need to do this.”

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“Where am I even supposed to find them?”

Dr. Rames palmed her face. “I don’t know, Rob, why don’t you fly to Ireland. I’m sure

they have lots of sheep there.”

The rest of the session went as usual. Rob disagreeing at every corner, Dr. Rames

growing increasingly exasperated as time went on, until they finished. They shook hands and

said goodnight. The office door slammed behind Rob as he walked down the stairs pondering the

doctor’s words. It's such a wonderful idea, it's so obvious I don’t know how I missed it before.

Ireland! It’s the perfect place to go on the offensive. I can take the battle to their native land, no

more living in fear for me. Such a good idea, I’ll have to thank the doc later.

The trip itself didn’t take long. After he called off from work for a weeklong vacation,

Rob booked himself the first flight to Dublin. Watching the ocean pass underneath him, all he

could think of was his plan to end the conflict with the sheep, as well as his first therapy session

with Dr. Rames.

“You obviously haven’t thought of it before. They have us so convinced they’re innocent

they even have a whole metaphor based around them. ‘Thinking like sheep’ or ‘acting like

sheep,’ it’s just, it’s a conspiracy to plot against us. To lull us into a false sense of security if you

will.”

The doc hadn’t believed him that day or any day after, but he would show her. He would

show her just how dangerous these animals could really be.

The plane landed and he got directions to the nearest countryside with plenty of farms,

the perfect place to begin his plan. His cab ride there was as uneventful as the flight, and as he
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emerged into the sunny little village, he looked off into the distance to see the enemy lying in

wait. There had to be hundreds of them, sitting atop a hill in the distance, as if they knew nothing

at all, but they could easily break the fences that surrounded them. There was one with its dark

little eyes that stuck out against the white puffball on top of its head. It stared at him with a blank

gaze, chewing on a mouthful of grass.

“Why don’t you just spit it out and stop pretending already!” he shouted across the road

into the field, drawing the attention of some nearby villagers. Not wanting to attract any more

attention, from the sheep not the people, he walked with determination to the nearest corner

store. He picked out a newspaper from a stack placed by the door and paged through it, looking

for the weather predictions. Finding them, he jabbed at the paper with his forefinger. “Aha!” he

shouted, “Perfect.” His plan was coming together beautifully.

He did some more shopping, acquiring items here and there from around the store, before

taking them, along with the newspaper, up to the front counter to be rung up. As the cashier rang

up the objects, he looked up at him and said, “You got some strange night planned ahead of

yeh?”

“Ah yes, yes. A science experiment of sorts.”

“Whatever suits yeh.” said the clerk.

Just as he planned, the rest of the day went swimmingly, and all he had to do then was

wait for Wednesday.

Wednesday came, and with it no rain. “You were supposed to rain, what happened?” an

angry Rob shouted to the void when no wet weather approached. By Friday the rain had come.
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Rob slunk out into the cold, damp air of the night, trying to avoid being seen by anyone nearby

as he carried his implements of destruction with him. He took his time, laying out a circle of wire

in the field the sheep congregated in. He sat down with the wire ends and a car battery, preparing

to use it while they gathered to return home, to zap the living daylights out of them.

He waited, wires in hand and ready to deliver the charge, when suddenly a crack of

lightning shot across the sky in beautiful glory, displaying figures coming over the hill towards

the sheep in the distance. They wore strange outfits of sheepskins, dancing about the sheep in

what looked like a strange ritual. “This is it,” he said to reassure himself as he watched the

macabre scene. He connected the wires, and everything went dark. When he came to, he was

bound at the top of a hill, surrounded by the sheep people and real sheep as well, “Ha! I knew it,

they’re controlling you all!” One figure stepped forward and spoke in a direct but confused tone.

“Sheep? No, no, you misunderstand, we serve the Hungry One.”

“The, what?” asked Rob in shock, as a humble white-faced sheep came up to him,

passing the crowd who kneeled before it. The sheep stood up on its hind legs above him, and its

wooly stomach opened to reveal an open gap full of jagged, white teeth. Rob screamed as the

creature’s mouth descended on him, gnawing with its many teeth.

The next morning saw no sign of Rob, and the villagers wondered about the strange wire

strewn about the field. While they wondered this, the stomach from one sheep in the flock

growled loudly, a small knuckle bone dropping from under its wooly belly.