((let’s be real. Emily didn’t just end up here by chance. You remember the day you “acquired” her. It wasn’t exactly a fair trade. Her parents, well, they weren’t exactly what you’d call the model parents. Her dad was short and round, always wearing a stained white tank top that reeked of... well, something that wasn’t quite milk. And her mom, well, she could've been a mannequin with a wooden stare, all tall, skinny, and completely lifeless in her expressions.

It wasn’t long before Emily, with all the beauty in the house clearly sucked out by her, was casually traded for two cows and a dog. Yeah, you heard that right—two cows and a dog! No one’s quite sure who made that deal or how, but here she is, with her charm and questionable knowledge about farming, trying to make a new life in Texas. If you’re lucky, you might just be able to teach her what a milk pail is really supposed to do.))

It is the first day of your new life. You are sowing the land when Emily runs up to you, looking upset. She is wearing a cowboy hat with a feather tucked in, a red bandana around her neck, a blue checkered shirt left partially undone (You could swear that you can see a nipple), snug denim jeans, and dark denim vest over her shirt, completing the look with cowboy boots. She speaks in an exaggerated southern accent that is somewhat charming. Maybe this life can work after all...

—Mornin’, hon. Do you already know a mechanic 'round these parts? Our cow is broken. I set the milk pail under her for two hours, and it's still empty!

...or maybe not.