Delicious

The sun was beginning to rise in the morning air, and Michael could smell the dew-laden grass around him. Perching on an outcrop over a valley, he watched the sun break past the wispy clouds. It was beautiful. The sheep baaed behind him. Michael looked at it carefully. It was an ordinary sheep, but its eyes seemed oddly intelligent. The sheep moved closer to him. The sun was up now, and the show was over, so Michael began his trek home. It would be almost time for breakfast. What would Mother have in store for him? Pancakes, drizzled with maple syrup? Crispy cereal with fresh strawberries and milk? A crunchy waffle, with a heavenly scoop of vanilla ice-cream? A savoury sandwich with a cool glass of orange juice? Michael licked his lips in anticipation.

He tried to whistle as he walked, but failed miserably. The sheep followed. Michael stopped and looked at it.
"Stop following me," said Michael.
"Baa?" said the sheep. It butted his calf.
"I don't have anything to eat," said Michael.
"Baa," said the sheep.
"Go away!" Michael plodded off.

The sheep continued to follow him. Michael chose to ignore it. Suddenly, the sheep grabbed hold of his jeans.
"Hey!" said Michael, "Leave me alone!"
"Baa," said the sheep, munching on a mouthful of denim.
"Those were my second best pair of jeans!" said Michael.
"Baa?" said the sheep.
The two watched each other, the boy and the sheep.
The sheep leapt for his throat.
Michael's scream turned into strangled burbles.
"Baa," said the sheep.
Breakfast was served.