But you know that feeling? The one where your entire brain melts out through your earholes because your head is on fire, and the rest of your body overcompensates by freezing on the spot, and the only thing left in your skull is a ghost marching in a circle and banging two pots together? That’s about where I’m at. So the best I can muster is an utterly clotheslined “Scheit.” Somewhere behind me, another goats lets out a scream, I can only imagine in solidarity.
