He was the bad llama
. The worst mother-fuckin' llama around. He had
His mother was so upset. She would serve up a nice plate of grass (or a
shrub on special occasions) and he'd just sneer. He'd go hungry until
he found dead insects and birds and he'd nibble on the carcasses in
front of the herd. Sure, the diet made him sick, but he wasn't going to
be just like the other llamas. He was a rebel. The younger llamas
wanted to be him and the girl llamas were attracted to his insect
"Oooh, Llenny! You're so... different," the girls would say, batting
their long eyelashes at him. He'd just look the other way.
Then there was the spitting. His dad would tear at his receeding
fleece line (that was pretty hard in itself, as llamas have
hooves) when his only son refused to spit.
"Oh, Llenny, you're really getting on my nerves. Why don't you spit?
Don't you want to assert your masculinity? Don't you ever want to be
the dominant male? Even your little sister spits to show
the male llamas she's not interested. Please, Llenny!"
He would just shake his head and walk away. He just didn't like spitting.
It was just too... normal. And besides, llamas spit out chewed up
grass, and he physically couldn't do it because of his insect diet. Not
that he wanted to, anyway.
And then there was the humming. All the other llamas hummed when they
were sad, scared, tired, hot or uncomfortable, but he just
hummed when he felt like it. This meant he sometimes hummed at night when
all the other llamas were sleepy. Then Terry, the llama who liked to
think he was the lleader, would freak out.
"What's wrong, Llenny? Are you worried? Did you hear something? A dog?
Is there a dog out there? Pete, Martin- there's a dog out there! Llenny's
He'd just amble away. He'd keep humming, just because he felt like it,
dammit. Screw Terry and his gang, those stupid spitters.
He dreamt of getting away. He wanted so much to get out of the
paddock and run with llamas like him. Sure, he loved his mother and
father, and he even tolerated Terry sometimes, but he was different.
He was... bad.
Yeah, he'd get out one day, and he'd hum, and not spit, and
eat whatever the hell he wanted. His time would come. As soon
as the humans left the damn gate open long enough for him to get out of
Yes, llamas hum when they're scared. And spit to assert themselves. And they eat a healthy diet of grass, shrubs, wheat, etc. And
there was once the bad llama Llenny.