333:3

[Jamie Ahloy Dallaire]

"A domesticated grazer," explained Pemberton, glancing obliquely at the quizzical expressions of the schoolboys-on-a-field-trip, "kept and bred on Earth for the purposes of harvesting the nutrients it produces for its young." More blank stares, a few fingers creeping slowly toward a few noses. Pemberton huffed.

"Bouncer, would you kindly demonstrate the vocalization typical of dairy cows?" The ball-being let forth a soft lowing sound, followed by a well-felt moo. Man and ball each silently arched an eyebrow at the children, till one apparently well-read lad exclaimed "Oh! Like the one that jumped over the moon!"

"Yes," chuckled Pemberton, "now, pity they can't jump just a little bit higher..." And with a new gleam in his eye, the foodstuffs magnate strode decidedly into his study, leaving the rest of the children to ponder the challenges inherent in taming such an agile animal.

[David Nicol]

333.3 is valid. Just enough cowbell.

333:1 Goethe 1.5 s.p
333:2 Wurm 2.0 s.p
333:3 J.A.D. 2.5 s.p, including a half-point bonus for including
a beach ball.

The story so far:

"A man always has the right to make his own cheese," intoned Lord
Pemberton dryly as he gazed out from the veranda
across his plantation at his pressurized processed cheese
manufacturing and packaging plant on the Tharsis Plain. "But in this
town, there's no way these indentured laborers could afford to import
a dairy cow, much less the juice of one."