Last Exit to St. Francisville

...something about possession by demons raising the Klienpeter cows' cortisol levels, resulting in too much butterfat so the sour cream was spoiled when he opened it, and then little store laughed to see such sport and then if that wasn't enough, on top of all that the cow ran away with the spoon. Yeah, I know, but what're ya gonna do? At least there's no Ace involved. Right? I'm right, right? No one's seen any marks. No one's said so. Ergot in the sour cream? I dunno. Whatever. Okay, call you tomorrow.)

Sorry, where was I? Look, I've got to get some overdue things wrapped up, so I'll just shut up and let Abe narrate this one.

These things matter. To the demon-possessed cows, maybe.