So I was in Rapid driving past the former site of the meat packing plant when I noticed an office building was being built. I started thinking of the havoc that would be caused if some of the cattle put down in the facility came back. Whom would you call? There are days I should not be allowed out of the house.

Cows With Guns

"Sam are you freakin' nuts?" Dean asked staring at his brother as if he had sprouted two heads.

"Come on Dean," replied Sam opening a new search window on his laptop. "It looks interesting plus we're driving through the area tomorrow anyways. So let's stop and check it out."

"But Sammy - ghost cows?"

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Dean slowed down to take the Deadwood Avenue exit off I-90. "Will you repeat that again?"

Flipping back a page Sam started reading, "according to a reporter from the Rapid City Journal an office building was built on the former spot of the South Dakota Meat Packing plant which burned to the ground in 2003, cause unknown. The renters - a computer graphics firm, a title company and a jewelry designer - have complained of cold spots, bad smells and strange sounds. The landlords investigated numerous times and attributed the smells to a dead raccoon in the duct work and the sounds to mice in the walls and the building settling."

"A dead raccoon, mice and the building settling still doesn't sound like ghost cows," Dean said as he stopped at a red light.

"Well it gets better. The employees complained enough that a building inspector was finally sent out. He report stated that the fecal smell could be attributed to the manure spread around the new landscaping. And the smell of blood was probably left over from the dead raccoon."

"Okay."

"The inspector couldn't find any cold spots and suggested that some of the air vents could possible be hidden behind cabinets or other office furniture. And as far as the strange sounds go, he agreed with the landlords." Glancing up Sam pointed, "turn here Dean."

Dean turned left, drove down the street leading to the site of the former meat packing plant, and parked in the shade of the cottonwood trees lining the southern end of the parking lot. "Still haven't heard anything about burgers-on-the-hoof Sammy."

Sam wiped the sweat off his forehead wishing again that the Impala had air conditioning. "Hold your horses Dean; I'm getting to that part."

"Cows," he deadpanned.

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Dean replied shaking his head.

Glancing quizzically at his brother Sam continued his narrative. "This last bit didn't make it to his official report. When the inspector left the building he swore he heard faint mooing and when he started to drive out of the parking lot he says a herd of cows ran in front of his truck, forcing him to swerve sharply. He lost control of his truck, ran over the curb, slid down the embankment and landed axle deep in Rapid Creek." He stepped out of the Impala and stretched before taking a long drink from his bottle of water.

"This is South Dakota Sam, there are herds of cows everywhere," Dean pointed out as he got out of his car and ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. He took off his damp, long sleeved plaid shirt and tossed it into the backseat. "What is it? A 102F - 103F?"

"104F," Sam corrected, "he went on to further say that when he looked back up the embankment he saw the cows slowly dissolve into wisps of smoke and blow away." Sam looked at his brother with a slight grin on his face.

Dean shook his head and looked around the area taking in the tinder dry, pine tree covered hills to the left and behind the three-story office building, the green grass of the golf course to the right and the large cottonwood trees growing along the gurgling creek behind them. "Well if I were a cow I'd be over on the golf course."

"If you were a cow Dean you'd be a girl."

"Okay, if I were a bull…"

"You'd be full of it." Grinning Sam walked over to where tire ruts were still visible in the tall weeds, he followed them down the embankment and between the trees. "How in the hell did he miss this tree?" he thought looking up at the huge tree, "it has to be a good 20 feet in diameter." Sam knelt down near the deep gouges the truck had made in the creek bed. He felt his brother kneel down beside him, "still don't believe in the possibility of spectral cows Dean?"

"No," he answered lightly touching the rocky soil pushed up by the inspector's truck. Dean stood up and brushed his hand off on his jeans. "Well if we're going to do this Sammy we're going do it right. You grab the EMF meter and I'll get the IDs."

The brothers walked back up the embankment and over to the Impala. "Fine, just as long as my ID doesn't say 'Bikini Inspector' on it," Sam replied unlocking the trunk and tossing a duffel bag out of the way to pick up the meter; he also grabbed a few file folders out of his laptop bag.

Dean unlocked the glove compartment and pulled out a box, sorting through their IDs he replied, "would I do that to you?"

"Yes."

He handed Sam a card, "you're right." Dean laughed as his brother inspected the card and gave him a pained look. "Hey it doesn't say 'Bikini Inspector' on it."

"This isn't much better," replied Sam sliding the card into his wallet. "Ready?"

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Thom Kurtz looked back and forth between the two men standing before him. "You're here about Mr. Black Elk's accident?"

Sam nodded, "yes, the landlord's insurance company has requested an investigation. Can you tell us what he had been doing in your offices?"

"I'm not sure Mr…?"

"Penfeld, Sam Penfeld."

"Mr. Penfeld I left early, my daughter had a soccer game that day. But the company President, Josh Lien, was here so you could ask him," Thom leaned forward over his desk, picked up the receiver on his phone and pushed a button, "Josh there are two guys here from uhh…"

"D. Maus Investigations," Sam supplied.

Thom nodded his thanks, "D. Maus Investigations who would like to ask you some questions concerning Mr. Black Elk's accident."

Glancing around the small, overly white reception area Dean's eye was caught by a huge collage of a large fish eating its way through a school of smaller fish covering one entire wall. He walked over to the collage and discovered it was made out of hundreds of AOL CDs. Backing up he caught his brother's eye and pointed at the art work.

Grinning, Sam stepped over to Dean's side and remarked, "looks like someone finally found a use for all those AOHell CDs."

"Gentlemen?" Thom called out getting Dean and Sam's attention; Thom pointed down the hallway behind him, "Mr. Lien's office is the second on the right." Sam thanked him, turned and followed his brother down the hallway.

Josh met them at his doorway. Dean shook his hand and introduced them, "Mr. Lien? Hi, I'm Dean Silas and this is Sam Penfeld. Your landlord's insurance company has hired D. Maus Investigations to look into what happened on the night of Darryl Black Elk's inspection and his subsequent accident."

"Don't know what I could tell you but please sit," he requested indicating two chairs set in front of his desk.

"Thanks. But first would it be alright if Dean," Sam gestured at his brother, "looked around your offices while we talked?" Josh opened his mouth to protest but Sam held up his hand, "just to go over Mr. Black Elk's notes Sir."

"We're very thorough," Dean added with a small smile holding up a file folder.

Josh sat back and took the measure of the two men sitting in his office. He finally nodded, "a few offices are off limits but yes, you may look around."

Dean shook Josh's hand and left to start his search. He turned right out of the office, pulled the EMF meter out of his pocket and surreptitiously started taking readings. The first locked office gave off a low reading and the next couple of offices gave no readings at all. He wandered back up to the reception area, "Hey, uh…Thom?"

Looking up Thom replied, "yes?"

"Do you know where some of the strange occurrences happened in the office?"

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"Mwha mid woo mind mout Mammy?" Dean mumbled his mouth full of burrito.

Sitting across from his brother Sam took a bite from his taco salad and shook his head. He flipped through his notes, "well, Josh didn't put much store in the reports until he heard something that sounded like 'several bowling balls falling down the stairs' around midnight one night. He said he looked around the office and checked the main and back stairways but found nothing to explain the sounds."

"Did he hear it again?"

Snagging a couple of Dean's tortilla chips Sam replied, "no, he made sure he was out of the office before midnight ever since he heard it." He grinned when Dean moved his bowl of chips out of his reach.

"Wuss." Dean popped a chip covered in sour cream and jalapeños into his mouth. He coughed and grabbed his iced tea when the heat from the peppers hit the back of his throat. Sam snorted as Dean's faced turned bright red and tears rolled down his cheeks. He got up and thwacked his brother on the back a couple of times. "I'm fine, I'm fine Sam, stop it," Dean choked out, coughing a few more times into his fist. "Damn that was good."

"Yeah I could tell." He reached out to grab another chip but Dean slapped his hand away. He pulled back then quickly reached out again and snagged a chip. His brother glowered at him as Sam munched the chip and pulled the bowl further out of his reach.

"Orangutan."

Sam laughed, spearing a chunk of steak out of his salad he consulted his notes again. "Josh didn't have any other experiences. He said none of his employees had complained about the same sounds he had heard just the smell of crap and blood." Sam flipped the page. "Reyna Jackson, Administrator for the title company, said she had reported the stench of blood twice and no way was it just one raccoon. She said that the smell had permeated the office so badly one time they had to close down for a few days until it cleared away. And Star Black…"

"Star Black?" laughed Dean shoving another forkful of burrito into his mouth.

Sam shrugged, "she's the owner of the jewelry company and she swears she stepped in a cow pie that disappeared."

"A disappearing cow pie," he shook his head, "that's new." Dean stood up and looked over at the menu board, "speaking of pie would you like an empañada?"

"Sure." Sam finished his salad, "well at least we aren't hunting jackalopes," he thought flipping his notebook closed.

"So…disappearing cow pies," Dean stated upon returning with their sweet smelling treats.

"She had a witness Dean." Sam picked up one of the empañadas and took a bite, "mo mwat mwid mou…" He grinned at the look of disgust on his brother's face.

"Thought I taught you better manners Sammy." Sam shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat his dessert. "Thom was reluctant to say anything at first but he finally told me that he had seen something 'weird'," with his fingers Dean made quote marks in the air, "in the supply closet." He snatched an uneaten empañada out of Sam's hand.

"Hey!" Dean took a bite out of the pie before Sam could grab it back. "And you're complaining about my manners?" Sam gathered up the food wrappers and bowls stacking them on the tray. "Weird in what way?"

"A red-eyed see-through cow."

Laughing, Sam stood up and dumped the tray of garbage into the waste bin near their table. He grabbed his drink and notebook off the table and followed his brother out to the Impala. "Do you believe me now Dean?"

Opening his door he replied, "not really." Dean sat down and reached over to unlock Sam's door. "No one else on the other two floors saw any roving see-through cows but…"

"But what Dean?" asked Sam as Dean pulled out of the parking lot. Turning right they headed towards the nearest exit for I-90.

Looking uncomfortable Dean answered, "three people mentioned that they had heard…lowing." He looked behind them before entering onto westbound I-90.

"Lowing?"

"It means mooing Sam."

"I know what 'lowing' means Dean. So we have a sighting of a heard of spectral cows, one of a red-eyed see-through cow, disappearing cow crap, mooing and the sounds of what we probably can safely say was a bunch of cows running down stairs," Sam counted off on his fingers. "Maybe Bobby has some books on spectral animals."

"He might." Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing on the radio, "I bet Bobby would love to come on this gig."

"We could always wait for him to get back from North Dakota."

"Naa," he glanced in his side mirror and moved over into the left lane to pass a rusted out VW van, "what demonic creature did he say he was hunting?"

"Sasquatch." The brothers looked at each other for a minute before breaking out in laughter.

Wiping tears from his eyes Dean stated, "he should take the walking rug to the Cryptozoological Department at the School of Mines. I bet the Profs would love to get their hands on ol' Bigfoot." They laughed harder and Dean found it hard to keep from swerving down the interstate.

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"I can't believe we're staking out a parking lot for 'Bessie the friendly ghost'," Dean thought. He rubbed away the feeling of hot puffs of air on the back of his neck and squirmed as sweat trickled down his back and soaked into the waistband of his jeans; the temperature having cooled off to the mid 90Fs. He wished he was in an air conditioned bar with a cold beer and a hot woman or two instead of sitting in the dark under the cottonwoods, being buzzed by gnats and eaten by mosquitoes, waiting for his brother to get back from recon duty. Feeling the hot puffs again Dean started getting irritated, "damnit Sam will you stop that," he said waving his hand behind him thinking his brother was playing a trick on him.

"Stop what Dean?" asked Sam moving stealthily up to him on his left side.

"Breathing down the back of my neck, it's driving me nuts."

"Dude, I wasn't breathing…on…your…neck," he answered slowly, shining his Maglight beyond Dean.

Staring in confusion up at Sam Dean asked, "what's your problem?" before he turned to look behind him. A ghostly red-eyed cow softly snorted at him while chewing its cud. With a startled cry, which he would later vehemently deny sounded like a scared little girl, Dean jumped and backed up quickly, bumping into his brother. He grabbed a handful of Sam's t-shirt to keep himself from falling. As they watched in astonished silence, the cow mooed and trotted straight towards them. "What do we do now Sam?"

"How in the hell should I know Dean?" he answered as they backed away from the cow.

Keeping ahold of Sam's t-shirt Dean pushed his brother back, away from the approaching cow. "Didn't one of those books you read say something about using beer to scare away spectral animals?"

"Dean I told you," Sam replied in frustration, "spectral dogs can supposedly be frightened away by brewing beer in egg shells but there was absolutely nothing pertaining to cows. Cows weren't even…whoa!" Sam stumbled, falling backwards over a large rock and landing heavily on his arm and side. The cow didn't appreciate Sam's yell, it snorted loudly and ran at the brothers.

"Holy shit!" yelled Dean while trying to roll Sam out of the way. They both curled up in small balls as the cow ran over them, they gasped as a coldness went through them and then the cow was gone. Coughing, Dean glanced around looking for the cow.

"Ow."

"Sam you alright?" Dean asked. Helping his brother up he noticed Sam holding his right arm close to his chest.

"Yeah it's just scraped," he replied turning around in a circle, "where did it go?"

"I don't know. Told you we should have brought the shotguns," Dean retorted as they walked quickly over to the Impala parked far out of the reach of the parking lot's security lights.

"I'm sorry officer we were just shooting at red-eyed ghost cows. No Sir we haven't been drinking. No, no history of mental problems - well at least I don't but my brother here…why are you getting out your handcuffs?" Sam said sarcastically.

Dean glared at him before opening the trunk and pulling out the first aid kit. "Got any bright ideas Sherlock?" asked Dean while pushing down hard on one of the deeper bleeding scrapes on Sam's forearm causing him to hiss in pain and try to yank his arm back.

"Ouch!"

"It's either this or I bungee cord you to the top of the car." Dean poured water over his brother's arm, dried the area and wrapped a bandage around it. "I'll clean it better later." He glanced around, "right now we have to do something about…" Dean's back stiffened, "it's back."

"Huh?" Sam leaned over and looked around Dean, "oh." The cow was back and she brought friends. "I made some gris-gris bags hopefully they will keep our little," he gestured at the flickering herd, "red-eyed friends out of the building."

Dean dug through the trunk, "where'd you put 'em?"

"Paper bag in the back seat."

The cows watched Dean as he opened the back door and took out the paper bag. One cow came towards Dean and sniffed curiously at the bag. It mooed and the herd backed away from the Impala but they kept their eyes trained on the brothers as they walked quickly to the office building. Sam knelt down and started picking the lock to the Maintenance door while Dean casually leaned against the building shielding Sam from any inquisitive eyes. "Once we get these bags in place then what? How do we stop the cows from causing more accidents in the parking lot?"

"I guess an exorcism is out of the question." Dean saw the 'no shit' look in Sam's eyes. "Maybe we could edge the parking lot with a truck load of rock salt. Or trick the landscaping company into planting a hedge of anise, bay and clover." Sam shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know Sam! Demons and ghosts I get but animals," Dean pointed at the cows who had started inching closer to them, "are like people…their just crazy."

"Uhm yeah, right," replied Sam as he gave his picks a final twist forcing the lock to click open. "Let's get this done before Bessie and friends decide to join us."

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After having the crap scared out of him by a cow snorting in his ear and banging his head on the underside of a shelf while crouching down to place a gris-gris bag in the corner of a storage closet; Sam thought maybe, just maybe, it's time to get the hell out of Dodge and move on to their next gig in International Falls, Minnesota. He was sure Dean would go for the idea.

"You want to leave before the job is done?" Dean looked at his brother in surprise as they sat in the Impala. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" he asked searching around the front seat.

Glaring at his brother Sam watched him twist around and search the back seat. "What are you looking for?"

"Salt."

Exasperated Sam replied, "not funny Dean," sighing he continued, "we could conjure up a Blue Heeler to herd the cows out of the parking lot but with our family history of pissing things off that would certainly not end well." He rubbed his eyes and looked out his window at the dark parking lot. "I'm all out of ideas."

Dean stared outside watching a cow walk up to the Impala. He grimaced as the cow snorted on the driver's side window, fogging it up. "Iron."

"What?"

"Iron. We get the landlords to put up an iron fence around the parking lot." Smiling at his brilliant answer to their problem he started the engine and drove out of the parking lot ignoring the cow standing in their way.

"But then the cows might start hanging around the golf course," Sam replied.

"Well yeah…it definitely would make the last par on the back forty more interesting." Sam shook his head as he turned on the radio.

'But then he was captured, stuffed into a crate...Loaded onto a truck, where he rode to his fate...Cows are bummed

He was a scrawny calf, who looked rather woozy...No one suspected he was packing an Uzi...Cows with guns

They came with a needle to stick in his thigh..He kicked for the groin, he pissed in their eye...Cow well hung'

Listening to the words of the song Dean started laughing.

Giggling, Sam wiped a tear from his eye. "Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Where do you think the cow hid the Uzi?"

FIN

Several radio stations played Cow With Guns by Dana Lyons while the meat packing plant burned. You Tube - www(dot)youtube(dot)com - has a couple of videos for the song. The animated one is hilarious.

Earlier this year or possibly last year, it was reported in the local newspaper that Bigfoot had been killed down on the Pine Ridge Reservation and taken to the Cryptozoological Dept. at the South Dakota School of Mines & Technology. It's hilarious because Bigfoot is usually sighted up on Standing Rock or Cheyenne River Reservations and because Tech doesn't have a Zoological Dept. - Crypto or otherwise.