Mooing like a cow was my best performance ...

I was hypnotised once.   With each number spoken by the man wearing a red clock and a hat: a hat called a dunce hat (of any colour,) — worn by those considered without knowledge; and not to be confused with a witches hat (normally black in colour,) and in the shape of a cone — worn by those thought to have issued a spell.            

Under what spell issued upon me that night.  I was unaware.     I was in a field by the time he had reached zero.  I was within or without myself (in a manner of speaking.)        I remember the man telling me that with each number: starting from ten.  I would slip into a deep sleep.   I would be in a kind of trance.     I would hear only his voice and would complete the tasks assigned to me by him: and only him.  When he clapped his hands: all would be as before. I would remember nothing.      I sat on the chair of plywood and pipe framing — facing the audience.      I could see my girlfriend lucy: she seamed concerned; her eyes were fixed directly upon mine. Hoping I imagine that I would say anything to embarrass us. Properly more like nothing to embarrass her.

Ten.        Nothing.     I am still in the world of the living.   

 Nine.    Nothing.      He was telling me I am drifting (becoming sleepy,) not sure i was.      

 Eight.    Now not so sure about the nothing.      

Seven.    The room was becoming a little darker. I'm assuming someone is dimming the lights (for effect.)

Six.      Okay   I'm a little tied. The room is very quiet. I can see people laughing: but can't hear them.      Lucy is still looking at me.   Her lips are moving.     What is she saying?     

 Five.     I hear his voice. You are becoming very sleepy: soon all you will hear will be my voice: instructing you to sing like a bird: quack like a duck: snort like a pig: moo like a cow.      Yeah right.      You're joking: I can hear my thought.   

 Four.       

Three.        

Two.      

 One.      

 Zero.       

The farm gate is open.  I'm on my knees; the laughter of the audience: is like the wind through the trees. My song is filling the room: it is a sweet sound. Sounds like: three black birds in a pie.   The farmer has a bucket of last nights cabbage: he is filling my trough.    

Snort: snort:  get out of my way: i am screaming. This is my breakfast.  The mud is up to my knees: my nose is dug deep into the rotten  vegetation.   

Lucy left the room.

I woke. In my own bed. The morning sun was shining upon my naked torso.     

 It took three weeks for Lucy to answer my phone calls.     

I am told.  I did not perform to my best when instructed to quack like a duck.      

 However mooing like a cow ... was my best performance.