otoh

“Doctor?”
“What’s the Beef?”
“It looks like Mad Cow.”
The patient was lying on a Guernsey. “Looks like you got a Bum Steer,” I observed.
“Don’t give me that Bull,” he replied.
“So what are you Hereford?”
“Got Milk?”
“Heifer Pete’s sake, I’m a doctor. Don’t you see the Sheepskin?”
“What Cow College did you go to?”
“Charolais.”
“Charlie’s? Holy Cow!”
“No. Charolais. Besides, I’m pretty sure that would be a Brahman.”
“Well, I guess I stepped in that Cow Patty.”
“Don’t call me Patty. Tell me how you Veal.”
“Gee, you’re Bossie. I feel so fine.”
“More like Bovine, it seems to me.”
“You’re not Calf as funny as you think you are.”
“Don’t have a Cow, man.”
“Maybe I’d better book.”
“Leather-bound?”
“I’m not sure where I’m bound, but I’m not trying to Hide.”
“And you’re not running from the Longhorn of the law?”
“No. I made Baal. I’m gonna Hoof-n-Mouth off.”
“There’s no need to get Angus.”
“Hey, let go. You Toro my Jersey.”
“Sorry. I didn’t want you to start a Stampede. And I haven’t given you my bill.”
“I’m sure you’re going to Milk this for all it’s worth.”
“Bullseye. You owe me a Buffalo Nickel.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever Herd.”