I am considering writing a thing, and maybe eventually colouring and printing the thing, but I’m not sure if the thing is any good, so I thought I would ask you to tell me if it is or not.
Let me tell you the beginning of the story.
Once upon a time there was a farm. On this farm there were animals, as is generally the case, and all of these animals had a purpose. Sometimes they had even more than one.
The cow had a purpose.
The chickens had a purpose.
The rooster had a purpose, although some of the animals wished it wasn’t such a loud one.
The owl had a purpose, and the mice that lived inside were very glad that they lived inside because of it.
The dog had a purpose, and occasionally fleas.
The sheep had a purpose (and a very bad temper, but we won’t comment on that).
The guinea pigs were assumed to have a purpose, although it was hard to tell what, beyond doing their very best to look like a pair of slippers.
The goat had a purpose, which involved a great deal of thinking himself important and climbing on things, and the pig had a purpose, although she didn’t like to talk about it.
And the great shire horse had a purpose, and when the fair came to town the humans would make him look quite strange for a different purpose, which he wouldn’t have minded if the ducks didn’t laugh so.
There was one creature, however, who simply did not seem to have any purpose whatsoever.