Once a dairy farmer, Joe the Milker enjoyed a daily life of cows, cows, and cows. Cows in the morning, cows at night. He had cows for friends, and occasionally he’d flirt with a lucky that he fancied, and had her become his cow girlfriend. He invited his cows over for cow lunch, and then took them out to cow dinner. It was a good life; a simple life. Until one day.
The night before Christmas, Jon woke up to find all his cows slaughtered in unexplainable ways. Mangled bodies and bones lay still on a reddened ground. His cow girlfriend sat in a corner with her eyes glazed over.
Joe wept. Oh how he wept. For days he cried like a child. For weeks he howled like a wolf. For months he complained like an Emily. But nobody took him seriously. All they ever said was “Lol ok whatever Emily,” and “Lol shut up Emily you talk too much.”
Was it true? Maybe. Did it matter? No. He had lost what was nearest and dearest to him, and people were calling him Emily simply because of how immature he was acting. Whenever he tried to defend himself, all they would say was “Lol ok ‘Joe’, if you’re not an Emily why do you act so much like an Emily? Maybe you ought to become one; it’s who you are.”
And so, Joe went and became a girl. Named herself Emily, she did.
Unfortunately, his sister Kayle did not agree with this. “You’re referencing a child’s game, Joe! Quit being such a nerd. You’re not Emily” She would say. Over and over and over again. Kayle tortured Emily about her life decisions until one day Emily had enough of it.
Emily kicked Kayle’s butt.
From that day on, Emily discarded all notions of a family. She took the name Mogana because it reminded her of her manly, cow-filled past maybe, and set off to find a new life for herself or something. She prayed to a god named Pajama Mama why not, to deliver retribution I think; to right all the wrongs that had been done to her and such.
Oh Mogana. You go girl. Why you look so good? You gonna get all the boys.