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#sheep puns
erose-this-name · 2 months
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Queening the Pawn
Cult of the Lamb Ficlet
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Lambert awoke in the middle of the night by the sound of a loud, dull, thud, from outside.
They wrapped their hand around their bell to muffle it and slipped out of bed. They crept outside, shivering, the simple beige rags they wore did little to warm them after their recent sheering.
Lambert crept outside the bermed house to find their father, Ramses, working behind the secluded refuge. His graying wool was soaked with blood.
Ramses stood very tall, a scarred and grizzled one-horned ram. He claimed he lost his left horn in a fight against Leshy, Himself, and his right hand to something far worse. Though, the exact Bishop in question changed between retellings; Heket, Kallamar, Shamura, even The One Who Waits.
He never spoke of it boastfully, though. Rather, informatively; Ramses was always very specific about how he would escape these gods, how to fight their followers. He never made any illusion that fighting them directly wouldn’t be a death sentence.
Lambert came closer, struggling to make out what Ramses was doing in the dark. Then he realized that his father, shovel slung over his back and sword in his belt, was dragging the corpse of Lamb’s uncle away from the camp. Lambert gasped.
Ramses’ long, notched ear perked up at the sound. He muttered to them without looking away from his grim work, “I’m sorry you had to see this, Lamb’. I planned to do this when you were asleep, should’ve known that wouldn’t stop you… Don’t worry, I made sure he didn’t feel pain…”
“What happened, father? Uncle Ovid…” Lambert said.
“Ovid was talking about turning himself in to the Bishops. He never could listen to reason, ever since we were lambs…” Ramses said.
“S-so you killed him?” Tears welled up in Lambert’s eyes.
Ramses set down the cadaver and shovel. He stood up straight and turned to Lambert, retracting his bloodied hand back under his long, tattered cloak. He was stoic. Though, very dark bags hung beneath his damp, forlorn eyes.
“You know how we play chess together, Lamb’? Sometimes you predict a few turns ahead, and see the only way to win is to sacrifice a pawn. You have to do it, even if you aren’t sure. Even if that pawn might be very useful, even if you love it. Any pawn can become a powerful queen piece if it gets to the enemy’s side of the board, after all. Or, you might need to sacrifice bigger pieces, like horses, or bishops, even your original queen, just so another pawn has a chance at getting that far.”
Lambert’s eyes lingered on the body, strewn lifelessly on the ground besides him. But their father never looked away from them.
Ramses continued, “Sometimes, protecting a family is like a game of chess. If I’d let Ovid live, he might’ve snuck off when I wasn’t looking. If they caught him, they might’ve tortured him until he tells them where to find us. I didn’t want to do it, but it was a necessary sacrifice… I did it to protect us. Do you understand me, Lambert?”
“… yes, father.” Lambert stared down past his hooves.
Ramses bent down to Lambert’s eye level and wiped tears from their face with his cloak. “… Why don’t you go back to bed, Lamb’? I’ll come up with some warm milk, later.”
Lambert said, “Um… are you sure you don’t want help? With Digging the g-grave, I mean…”
Ramses tilted his head to the side and smiled at Lambert, his horn resting against a shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”
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newbloggycat · 8 months
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Joke of the day - Relationsheep
When I’m with ewe, my life is com-bleet! http://www.Pinterest.com
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vyntagewrites · 12 days
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James Potter with a little extra pudge around the mid section, after years of his wife’s cooking & more low key quidditch.
Remus Lupin needling bifocals to read, sheepish to admit it.
Lily Evans Potter refusing to dye her hair when the grays start coming in, saying it’s “natural & beautiful”
Sirius Black dyeing his hair when the grays start coming in, saying “my names not Sirius Gray!”
Ashdjdintszgaydifnr the Marauders, getting older.
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bamsara · 7 months
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does lamb have an actual name? does YOUR lamb have a name?
Canonically the lamb is just called 'The Lamb' but everyone and their mother was calling them 'Lambert' and "Lambi' and "Lamboo' on the steam forums so I picked one of those
I think it'd be pretty funny if Lamb had an actual name at some point but either forgot it, was never given one in the first place, or those plus people started calling them Lambert/Lambi/Lamboo and they just never stopped others and started responding to it
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ultrabananapudding · 2 months
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Farm!AU | Clarachel Edition
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In which the Marines own a Farm and Rachel, the owner, develops a (very obvious) crush on the local Vet.
Bonus:
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fretbored34 · 2 years
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A lambslide sounds wooly baaaad
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yardsards · 2 years
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"don't. don't tell me not to wormy."
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blergeatkitty · 6 months
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[Edit: I really wish I could figured out what company manufactured him, but I’ve had zero luck so far, I guess it’ll remain a mystery]
This is Memeio (pronounced Meh-Meh-yo).
I just realized this little guy, who I got around the time I was 2 or so, is 50 years old.
He’s in remarkable shape, considering the abuse young toddler-me put him through.
When we first met, he had a music box in him.
Apparently even at an early age I was a harsh music critic as I took such an instant dislike to the music box that I held Memeio by the ears with my little hands and bashed him repeatedly against the wall until the box quit its noise and shut up and died.
I have no idea what the melody was. Probably something insipid and predictable like “Mary Had a Little Lamb”.
Anyway somehow, even with all the abuse toddler-me put him through, he managed to survive.
Well, no. Not somehow. Thankfully my grandmother and my mother were able to perform repairs as necessary.
Although, as it was explained to me, the first thing they did was perform a musicboxectomy to remove the offfending and now-defunct musical metal mechanism.
Over time, there were rips and tears. They were sewn up.
The stuffing was eventually replaced. I’m pretty sure if I opened the little guy up I’d find balled up nylon stockings (I seem to recall my mother telling me about that once).
Of course the terrycloth skin had been patched so often and worn down and re-patched and worn down again from so much hugging and lugging (I took him everywhere, we were inseparable, and the one time I left him somewhere when my parents were traveling and we had to drive back to get him I am reminded of the Calvin and Hobbes comic that captures my desolation and despair so perfectly) that his entire outer shell had been replaced multiple times before I was able to be gentle enough that he kept his final form.
I have a vivid memory of crying a stream of hot, heartbroken tears when his little eyes fell off at one point. My mom replaced them with dark, velvety new ones while I watched the surgical procedure as if it were a life-or-death medical drama (well, for me it was).
Even the little red outline of his mouth was new (since his “skin” had been replaced multiple times.
And I’ve loved the little bastard so damn much I kept him my entire life. He’s been with me FIFTY YEARS.
And I still put him up high on a shelf in my bedroom so he has a good view and can see the whole room and I say “Hello” to him whenever I see him and give him a little pat and he’s up there on the shelf with other old stuffies so he has company.
And I know there’s not a single piece of the original toy remaining, but our emotional connection is strong and unbroken and goes deeper than all that.
In fact, I’m writing about this tonight because it only just occurred to me that this is quite possibly the most personal and intimate example of that famous thought experiment that I can possibly think of.
I refer, of course, to the Sheep of Theseus.
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
Goodnight.
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sunshineram · 1 year
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party guy!!!
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yugioh-puns · 10 days
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"Boycotton" is a portmanteau of boycott (a refusal to participate as a form of protest) and cotton.
The first element is represented as the Monster refusing to be sheared.
The second element compares the Monster's wool to cotton, which is further seen in the card's Plant typing.
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newbloggycat · 2 years
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Joke of the day - Wool out
Joke of the day – Wool out
A lambslide??? It’s unherd of!
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candiednova · 2 months
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welcome home oc/sona !
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solarisii · 2 years
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Winter's still not sure about this biting meme
ft @krisispiss
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hecho-a-mano · 1 year
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While doing some research in order to make a pun with the word "ram", I found out that rams and goats are not the same animal! I feel a little bit sheepish about the fact I didn't know this though.
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stclements · 23 days
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trenchcrows · 7 months
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Me when I make references in my schoolwork
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