“Momma’s got the girls up at her house, so you’re on your own for dinner. You good with that?” Mickey, the long-horned menace squeezed through the door and lumbered into the office. “Only if I can cook the cow that’s currently taking up residence at my desk.” A chorus of voices came on the line from different radios. “Get lost, Mickey,” they said together. Slowly, he backed his bovine ass up and retreated outside.
