After months of training, you finally make your way towards the edge of the field where Mirabelle was taking a well-deserved nap. Heavy metal jugs in hand, you smile as you see her approach you, her swollen udder and breasts jiggling with every step. "No need to apologize, my dear," you say, "I came all the way out here to help you with your milkings. It's what I was trained to do." With a sympathetic smile, you reach out to Mirabelle and take the heavy jugs from her.