Part One here.
Fuzzy spent what he knew would be his remaining time as Barnyard Leader tending to his regular administrative duties. He suffered the other sheep's derision and insults ambivalently while trying to stay on task. He occasionally made a weak attempt at campaigning, but the only animals who showed up for his appearances were the horses, the pigs and the cows - whose numbers together barely comprised a significant minority.
The sheep gleefully wrote snarky letters to the Barnyard Times and displayed bumper stickers and pen signs with "clever" ripostes like "Hang Fuzzy from the nearest McTree." It mattered little to them that McTree retained the farm. Oh, they were disappointed and angry (in most cases pathologically so) at the time, but they busied themselves by thinking about derogative anti-Fuzzy puns and casting practice ballots (and being dumb sheep, they actually did need the practice).
Lightning, the lone fence-sitting sheep, cogitated about whom to support for the better part of a month. Finally, after extensive fact-finding and soul searching he ambled to the center of the yard, and bleated his decision for all to hear:
"After carefully weighing the pros and cons of both candidates, I have concluded that Bobo will get my vote for Leader. Even though Fuzzy has managed the Barnyard with skill - and indeed continued the renaissance that began some ten years ago, I think that Bobo is the right sheep to lead us into the future. First, Bobo has no compunction of taxing and redistributing the pasture grasses. Fuzzy was fundamentally dishonest when he raised the fees on access to the more desirable Bermuda grass in the South 40. Now just for the moment, pretend with me that you don't know the difference between the compulsory nature of a tax and the voluntary nature of a fee. When Fuzzy raised the Bermuda Access Fee, he was really raising a tax, since every sheep loves Bermuda grass."
At this point, the one remaining cow who was listening t Lightning, shook her head, went back to the barn, and wished that they made Tylenol for mammals.
Lightning continued: "Plus, I met Bobo, and he seemed like a nice sheep."
The other sheep bleated their approval, and quickly went back to laughing at their own cleverness.
The election was one day away.
TO BE CONTINUED...