Get along, little hell-hounds

"You don't actually have to say anything, you know -- they can't really hear you."

"Can't hardly help myself, son. It's in the blood."

"You been a cattle rancher long then?"

"All my life, it seems."

"So this is your first time with, er, them?"

"Ayup."

"How's it going so far?"

"Well, the stench is a little much."

"More than just your regular cows?"

"Sheeeit, boy... sounds like you've never rode with a regular herd."

"Oh no. This is a first time for me."

"Well, wouldn't hardly be fair for me to say it show'd. But then again, it's not like this is like any other regular herd. Hey now! Giddyap there, you rotten varmint! Heyah!"

"Really, you don't need to yell at them. It's not like they can hear you -- even those of them that still have ears."

"Well, I can't right kick 'em in line can I? Reckon my boot get stuck in 'em."

"Father O'Brien gave you a cross, didn't he?"

"What, this?"

"Yeah. It should work well enough, just wave it at 'em and then cover it up. Don't show it off too much or we'll get a stampede."

"So, son..."

"Yes?"

"I don't mean to whittle a man's business, 'specially when he's a pay'n my paycheck... but what'er you thinkin' of doin' with all these here... these here..."

"Zombie cows?"

"Yeah."

"Well it's all based on supply and demand."

"And you've got the supply."

"Yes, sir. Largest herd of zombie cows in the land."

"Can't say I've heard of any other."

"Oh, I suspect we're the only real suppliers of the cattle of the night."

"Wouldn't that be vampire cows?"

"Oh, we looked into that. No such thing. So we trademarked Cattle Of The Night... branding. That's the future of all big business. We're going to be first on the scene, and in numbers no one can compete with."

"And you reckon there's a demand?"

"Oh, the supply will make the demand."

"I don't rightly follow you."

"Undead Livestock. It worked for the internet, and we figure we're just the next wave. Look how everyone hopped on the internet before they knew what to do with it... Same think with undead livestock. One moment it's not there, and everyone's doing business as normal -- next thing they know, there it is and they have to have a piece of it. Information superhighway, pah! Wait until they get a load of Bessie's glowing red eyes."

"Don'cha might wonder if ordinary folks might not be so eager to embrace your wares? Might want to shy away from Beelzebub's bovines? And be wary and watchful of ornery animated bulls?"

"What's to worry? We always have a priest on hand. And Father O'Brien gets time and a half danger pay..."

"I have noticed they don't cotton to him."

"He's a tough old coot, he'll survive."

"I wouldn't want to think about our odds if he were to succumb to their evil whims -- us all alone, a way out here on the range."

"You just live the worrying to me, old timer. And I'll leave the round-up to you."

"You're the boss, son. Hey-thar! Giddyap... move along little damnnies... move along."