Once upon a time, there was a cute little farm. In that farm, lived a sheeple with a variety of white, black and mixed sheep. One of the white ones was named Generico. He liked to do what other sheep were doing. He would always follow the herd, no matter what. Generico was happy at the farm, he loved the fresh grass from the mountain, he was content even when the farmer would shave him or kick his butt. He enjoyed the comfort of the herd, the safety of the majority. Of course, sometimes he would notice many of his friends being taken away in a large yellow truck and never return again. There was a rumor they were going to the local slaughterhouse, down the road. Generico could hear them cry for help and scream in agony from a distance. But that was the way it was and always will be. Generico was just hoping he will never be one of them.
Amongst the black sheep was one named Opiniato. He was a bit different than Generico. Even though he also enjoyed the comfort of the herd, he would frown upon the farmer before getting his wool shaved off. And he despised being brutalized. He also noticed when the sheep were taken away to the yellow truck, and believed there was some kind of conspiracy going on. That was not normal. He was firmly hoping to never be one of them.
Amongst the mixed sheep, was one named Filosofo. He also enjoyed the comfort of the herd, yet somehow, Filosofo seemed just a little more… spiritual. When the yellow truck would take the sheep to the slaughterhouse, Filosofo would just say “Namaste. The Universe is perfect as it is. C’est la vie!” while secretely praying he would never be one of them.
One day, Opiniato got so uspet at the farmer for slapping him on the butt, that he bit the farmer’s hand. The angry farmer kicked him back so hard, Opiniato could barely walk that day. That was the straw that broke the sheep’s back. That night, Opiniato held a secret meeting with the rest of the sheeple. “ The farmer is a cruel man! We need to ask him to stop kicking us like this! Also, last week, our water was not as fresh as usual! We ought to have fresh water all the time!” Generico rolled his eyes and the rest of the white sheep simply ignored him, but some black sheep thought Opiniato had a valid point. Filosofo just said “ All is Love. Anger is never the answer. C’est la vie!”
On a rainy morning, Generico, Opiniato and Filosofo were chosen and taken to the infamous yellow truck. White, black and mixed sheep were all shivering, instinctively feeling something horrendous was about to happen. As Generico saw his beloved green mountain for the last time, between the gray bars of the yellow truck, the rest of the sheeple started to panic and scream. Opiniato managed to reach the stock tank to drink some water. There were some dead flies in that water. It was stale. Warm. Disgusting. That was it! Opiniato yelled “Sheeple, sheeple, this is terrible!” The rest of the sheeple looked in disbelief. Opiniato continued “ We are going to the slaughterhouse! And the water is warm, has dead flies in it. Way below standards! It is time to tell the farmer what we think about his water. Let’s fight and unite.” Generico thought to himself “Maybe we should complain about the water. It is not the best, that is very true.” But then, he also noticed the entire white sheeple rolling their eyes and pretending not to hear. The ride to the slaughterhouse was only a few more minutes, and Generico certainly didn’t want to get kicked by the farmer. So he just drank some of the stale water, pretending it tasted fine. Filosofo said “ Namaste. Brothers, love each moment, and you shall find peace. C’est la vie!” But the black sheeple, under Opiniato’s leadership got angrier and started yelling ‘ We want fresh water! We want fresh water! We want fresh water! On the way to the slaughterhouse!”
In a moment of miraculous clarity, the farmer overheard and understood their language. That was a truly astonishing moment. The farmer was in a state of shock.
Once the entire selection of sheeple was in the main slaughter room, the farmer decided to do something completely different. He could no longer slaughter them like he used to. He felt tremendous guilt. The farmer took Opiniato aside and whispered to his ear : I didn’t realize I had been so insensitive to your needs. You are a brave, intelligent animal. I promise you that, from now on, we will always, always, have the best quality of water for you guys.”
The farmer’s assistant then proceeded to pour the freshest water for all the animals to drink. The sheeple was delighted by the unexpected sweet gesture.
Opiniato was crying with joy and felt an overwhelming sense of pride and achievement. He was so emotionally touched, he could barely hear the sharp sound of the farmer’s knife slicing his throat wide open. As Opiniato’s head fell and rolled on the floor of the slaughterhouse, his fresh blood reflected Generico’s terrorized little eyes. Filosofo was quick to say “Namaste. Just breathe. C’est la vie!” when the farmer brutally grabbed him by his flank and said “Your turn, smarty pants!’
