[A meter reader visiting the barnyard is horrified to discover the animals walking and talking.]
Talking animals! I saw you! You animals were walking, and talking, and playing an obscure form of golf!
Sir, calm down. We are not talking animals. We're... um... you know.
Fruit cup distributors!
No, we're...
Sassy improv comics.
That is not helpful.
Oh, I know! We're imaginary brain pixies, and only you can see us. Nailed it.
[Otis sighs and pulls a rope, dropping a hay bale on the meter reader's head.]
Head hurting. Memory of recent events fading.
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