Youre A Farmer! Can You Squeeze The Milk Out Of All The Animals?

This is your farm.

And this is you. You are a big old farmer.

You read the definition and know what you must do.

“You’re damn right you do,” says your wife. “I’m your old hungry wife, and I need all that milk to satisfy my hungry cravings. You better get to squeezing the milk out of all those animals, otherwise I’m gonna start doing weird shit with my shovel, and you won’t like it.”

“Yes, we produced one child, but he is a very low-quality child. He is always in his canoe because he is afraid that if he comes on land he will immediately be gored by a rhino. Our son is an idiot. Please ignore him.”

“I don’t know yet, but it’s gonna be fucking weird, and you won’t like it.”

“Here’s the fucking deal,” continues your hungry wife, her deafening stomach rumblings almost drowning out her voice at this point. “You squeeze the milk out of the animals and into this glass, then bring it to me when it’s all full. Understand?”

“Good. I’m gonna stand here and wait for you. I’m very hungry and old.”

You set out on the road and immediately run into this thing. It is the kind of animal known as “Pig.”

“You can’t have my milk,” says the pig. “I’m keeping it inside of me until I meet the president. Then I’m gonna let the president drink all the milk out of me as a sign of my gratitude. That’s my whole plan, so please fuck off now unless you are the president.”

“Mr. President! What an honor it is to make your acquaintance. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you immediately. I have pig eyes, which are worse than human eyes because they’re for pigs. Pigs don’t need to see that much stuff. In any case, I am so happy and honored to make your acquaintance and would like to take this opportunity to formally invite you to drink all the milk that’s inside of me. What do you say?”

“How? Mr. President, don’t tell me you’ve never drank all the milk out of a pig before! Well, it’s easy. You just take the Lord’s name in vain, lock your paws on to one of these things, and squeeze the milk into your mouth.”

You follow the Pig’s instructions and squeeze the milk out of him. It sprays out in glorious spurts.

“The president’s squeezing the milk out of me!” screams the Pig. “This is the best day of my stupid life as a Pig, which is the worst type of animal.”

You feel a little bit bad about lying to the Pig about being the president, but not too bad because he’s a Pig. As the milk flies through the air, you are faced with a difficult decision: drink the Pig’s milk for yourself, or catch it in your glass so that you can give it to your old and hungry wife.

Your Old Hungry Wife Hates That You Drank That Pig’s Milk

“Motherfucker,” mumbles your wife. “You goddamn motherfucker, I’m your old hungry wife and I need that milk for myself. How dare you drink that milk! Now I’m gonna do all sorts of weird shit with my shovel. Hope you’re happy!”

Oops. Looks like you fucked up. Sorry.

Great work. You caught all the Pig’s milk in a glass. But it isn’t full yet.

You stroll along the farm road, which is officially called Old Hungry Wife Lane after your old hungry wife. Where do you want to look around?

Dang. Look at that massive rock. It’s fucking huge.

A little dirt fell off of it, but nothing else really happened.

A group of goats are hanging out behind the cabin. They seem dangerous.

“Hey, farmer,” says one of the goats. “We were just sitting around denying the Holocaust. What do you want?”

“Sorry, farmer, but that’s our thing,” says another one of the Holocaust-denying goats.

“Yeah,” says the smaller Holocaust-denying goat. “We sit around and deny the Holocaust while our bodies fill up with milk.”

“Speaking of which,” says the first Holocaust-denying goat, “want to squeeze the milk out of us?”

Incredible. You squeeze the Holocaust-denying goats and milk shoots out of all of them, landing safely in your glass. You are a bit conflicted about the fact that this milk comes from goats who don’t believe that one of the worst genocides in human history took place, but you keep squeezing the milk out of them because you know that if you don’t, your old hungry wife is gonna yell at you.

Congratulations! Your glass is almost full!

Glass of milk in hand, you continue you strolling down the road. Up ahead, you see a man in a field. How do you want to approach him?

You look behind you and see this large and fucked up creature known as Tortoise.

“Hello,” says the Tortoise. “I am a big dumb fucked up animal and I would love to give you a ride over to your friend. But first, do you want to squeeze some milk out of me?”

“Not true!” says the Tortoise, his face covered in vomit from a different animal. “Tortoise milk is good and healthy to drink. Give it a try!”

“Suit yourself,” says the fucked-up looking disease-ridden Tortoise. “Hop on, and I’ll take you to the man in the field.”

You approach the man and he smiles gladly.

“Hello, Farmer!” he says, in a cheerful whisper. “My name is Farm Hand and I am the one who tends this field of sunflowers on the farm. Aren’t these flowers magnificent? I wish I could have sex with them and I do have sex with them sometimes. What can I say? I love my flowers!”

“Farmer, please! I know your wife is very old and hungry, but if you squeeze the milk out of all my flowers it would be a great sadness to me. There must be some other way!”

“Thank you so much! If you had milked my flowers, it would have killed them for sure, and then I would have had to find some other thing to have sex with or commit suicide. As payment for your generosity, I’ll tell you what’s the best place to milk animals. Well, it’s the swamp. Good luck!”

On the way to the swamp, you run into a Lion and immediately start trying to squeeze the milk out of him.

“Sorry,” says the Lion. “Lions don’t produce milk.”

Welcome to the part of the farm that is the swamp. This is where Farm Hand said you would find animals to milk. But you don’t see any animals around right now. Just swamp muck and trees. How do you want to get the animals to come out?

“Wow!” someone shouts. “Your impression of Vincent Price, the star of 1959’s House on Haunted Hill and numerous other Hollywood classics, is really spot on!”

Turning to thank them, you are shocked to realize it’s none other than your canoe-ridden son!

“Father!” shouts your son. “I have long awaited the day when we would finally meet! Now that it is here, I am filled with joy. I wish that I could hug you, but alas, I am afraid to leave this canoe because I think that a rhino will gore me if I do.”

“That’s a good point, dad!” says your biological son who you presumably created by having sex with your old hungry wife at some point. “I’m coming ashore!”

The second he steps on land he is immediately gored by a rhino.

“Oh no!” he screams. “Just what I was afraid of! Uh… this is bad! Save me!”

It is bad. The rhino is doing this super fucked up thing where it tosses him in the air and then re-impales him on its horn, like a bunch of times, over and over again. It’s actually a pretty amazing trick, but the fact that it’s your son being gored kind of ruins it a little. But not completely.

“Okay, but only for a second. I need it to dig a hole later and then to fill in the hole and then to dig it up again for no reason.”

With one good thwap you send the rhino into the swamp. You pry your son off of the rhino horn and the two of you watch as it sinks into the muck and grime.

“You saved me, dad,” says your son. You don’t have the heart to tell him that there’s a big rhino-horn-shaped hole in his chest. He’s a goner for sure.

“Son, I’m sorry I told you not to worry about being gored by a rhino,” you say to him as his eyes struggle to stay open. “Clearly, I underestimated the validity of that threat.”

Your son smiles and pats you on the back. “It’s okay, dad. Listen, I know you need to bring milk to my old hungry mom. I don’t have that much milk to give, but you can have whatever I got left. Think of it as a goodbye present…”

Wiping a tear from the corner of your eye, you grab on to your son’s udders and start squeezing. As the last sliver of life fades from his eyes, he whispers, “I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, son,” you say. And just as he dies, a bunch of milk comes spraying out of him. Most of it gets on your face, but some of it lands in your glass. Enough to fill it all the way up.

You Squeezed The Milk Out Of All The Animals But Your Son Died

“Motherfucker,” says your wife. “You did it! You brought me a glass of milk! It’s too bad our son died, but honestly I am just so glad that I have a full glass of milk to drink that it doesn’t really bother me. Thank you and feel free to keep that shovel as a token of my appreciation! I’m gonna eat all this milk!”

You Did Not Squeeze The Milk Out Of All The Animals

“Motherfucker,” says your wife. “Our son offered to let you squeeze the milk out of him on his deathbed and you refused? What the fuck is wrong with you! You know I’m old and hungry and I need all the milk I can get! You are even stupider than our deceased child! Give me back my goddamn shovel back so I can do something totally fucking inscrutable with it!”

“Okay! Bye dad!”

Wow! The second you flash that smooth Farmer’s thigh, all the animals in the swamp go totally fucking nuts and starting shouting things like, “The thigh is pretty attractive if you ask me!” and “If marriage were a thing for animals I would definitely get a divorce so I could marry whatever the fuck that thigh belongs to!” Nice work!

Many animals attempt to approach you, but the Walrus shoves them out of the way as she emerges from the swamp.


You Didn’t Squeeze The Milk Out Of All The Animals

“Motherfucker,” says your wife. “I’m old and hungry and I wanted to eat that Walrus milk! I don’t give a shit about your goddamn thigh! You should’ve hacked that thing off in order to get me that milk! Now, I’m gonna do weird shit with my shovel for the rest of your life! And it’s gonna be really weird shit, like using the shovel to poke you while you’re in the shower and also holding it up in the air whenever we go to the movie theater so it’s really distracting to other audience members and you feel embarrassed to be associated with me! Goddamn you!”

“THIS WILL ONLY TAKE A MINUTE GUHHHHH,” says the Walrus, as she revs her chainsaw. The second the blade hits your skin you immediately regret your decision. It hurts so bad and the Walrus is bad at holding the chainsaw so she keeps dropping it and having to start over. After about five hours, it’s finally over. The Walrus rips your thigh off and hands you back the part of the leg below the knee.


Incredible! Milk is bursting out of the Walrus at an incredibly high pressure and in copious amounts! Your glass is overflowing with milk!

“YOU CAN SQUEEZE HARDER GUHHHH IF YOU WANT,” says the Walrus, clutching your amputated thigh. “I CAN HANDLE IT!”

Nice! A small river of milk has begun to flow out of the Walrus.

“YOU CAN GUHHHH SQUEEZE HARDER,” shouts the Walrus, struggling to be heard over the sound of the torrential milk jets. “I’M A FUCKING PRO AT THIS!”

There is only milk now. All around you, as far as the eye can see, everything is covered in a vast sea of milk. “Wow,” you think to yourself, “This Walrus has a lot of milk in it.”

The Walrus says something to you, but at this point she is submerged in milk and cannot be heard.

Oh no. You squeezed too hard and the Walrus exploded. Better get out of here quick before the cops come.

You Squeezed The Milk Out Of All The Animals

“Motherfucker,” says your old hungry wife as you hand her the glass of milk. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Well, you proved me wrong. You squeezed the milk out of all the animals. Good work, and I promise not to do any weird shit with my shovel.”

Congratulations! You lost your thigh, but it was worth it in the end! You squeezed the milk out of all the animals!

You squeeze milk out of all the flowers and collect it in your glass. It’s not very much milk at all, but it’s a little bit more than you had before. All the flowers are dead now and Farm Hand looks pissed.

“Well, thanks. Thanks a whole lot. Now all my flowers are dead and I have nothing to have sex with. This is very sad for me. Now I will commit suicide by getting stuck in a trash can.”

All right, your glass is almost full! Your old hungry wife is going to be so happy when you finally bring her all this milk! Where do you want to look for animals now?