Battle on the Barn (Chapter #1, Chit-chat)

    Munch, munch. Grass, My favorite food. I like eating grass because I am a cow. I don’t have to eat it, because I am a robot cow, but I eat it anyways. “Boring”, you’re probably thinking, so let’s cut to the chase.
    I’m Angela. I’m a robot cow who lives on Uncle Dave’s farm. My owner’s name is Uncle Dave. He’s not actually an uncle, but we just call him that. He’s a good farmer. Sometimes he’ll give me wheats to chew on. I like wheat. It’s my second favorite food.  
    There are other cows on the farm, but they’re not like me. They’re all normal. They don’t have rocket hooves, laser eyes, or radioactive milk… none of the fun stuff. There are other animals on the farm, like chickens, pigs, llamas, rabbits, goats, and mice. They’re all OK. But, the chickens talk too much, I short out when I roll in the pigs’ mud, the llamas make my metal plates look tacky, the rabbits try to chew on my loose wires, and the goats… well, they once tried to eat me.
    There is someone I get along with, though. His name is Johnny. He’s a mouse with patchy beige fur and misty blue eyes. We don’t talk much, because he has to help with his 87 twin sisters. And…
    “Hey there.”
Huh? I turn around and see Johnny sitting on the fence.
    “Hi.” I say softly. “What’s going on?”
    “Eh, it’s been a busy week. One of my sisters, Freya, she got her degree in shimmy shammyin’. Whatever that is.”
Shimmy-shammying? I guess it’s better than nothing.
    “Calista and Brynn also just entered the National Rodent Olympics for the Toe wrestlin’ championship.”
Wait, toe wrestling? I didn’t know that was a thing.
    “Jett still believes she’s an airplane, and Lorelei hasn’t been any help. She’s been saying she wants to go to Rome, and Jett has offered to take her because, you know.”
I wish I was an airplane.
    “So, yeah. It’s been kind of a mess. How’ve you been?”
    “I’ve been studying cows’ behavior on the Internet.” Did I mention I have a computer brain? Well, you probably already knew that. “I’ve heard that cows eat mainly grass, and not pumpkin spice pop-tarts.”, I say.
    “Cool.” Johnny says in his admirable southern-ish accent. “How’s Uncle Dave? Is he doin’ good?”
    “Well, I’ve been seeing him with a strange man. They talk a lot.” I reply.
    “Hmm, maybe he bought something off the Internet? That’s what happened when Daphne bought 192 boxes of cornflakes.”
    “M-Maybe.” I stammer. “I’m just concerned. Uncle Dave’s been raising me since I was a little calculator. I don’t want anything bad to happen.” I smell smoke, and Johnny probably does too.
    “Oh, no. I think Megan’s trying to make pot roast again. See you around!” Johnny scurries off.
    “Later.” I say back.