Harold and Aran grew up in a green field full of multicultural sheep by the coast in West Wales. It was all they had ever known. They were both mighty Rams. Aran's fleecy white wool looked similar to an Aran jumper. He put that down to his Irish heritage on his mother's side. He had wonderful ivory coloured curly horns and took great pride in who he was. A white European ram.
Harold was just Harold. His earliest memory was being bottle fed as a lamb on a farm near Fishguard. He was almost treated like a pet by the farmer's daughters. He liked that and was quite disgruntled when he grew too big for the bottle and was unceremoniously dumped into a muddy field with all the other young adolescent sheep.
Growing up without a mother's love had made him realise how important it was to have that nurture. His mother had died during lambing so he had appreciated the farmers family taking him in and taking care of him but he would always crave the Mother's love he never had. He never quite got over it and was always bringing it up in conversation.
He was a Classic welsh sheep with a lovely white woolly coat and a contrasting black velvety face. He loved to sing and the flock would gather around him as he sang 'Sex Bomb'. Tom Jones was a particular favourite of his and the Ewes would go crazy when he wiggled his wooly hips.
Their were many different types of sheep in the flock, brown sheep, black sheep, rasta sheep, many different gendered sheep, a load of rainbow sheep and of course being Wales a lot of white sheep with black faces. They all liked to express their individual identities and enjoy deep discussions about life and somehow they lived together harmoniously in their little field.
They would dance with the rainbow sheep and smoke weed with the Rasta's and everyone mixed together while retaining their own individuality. They all had their own views but bonded together fundamentally as sheep.
It was a lot of fun. All was good in the flock.
Then something strange started to happen. A big screen was installed at the bottom of the field and all the sheep started to watch it. Short, inane videos of sheep slipping in the mud or getting a fright when paint was thrown at them or doing silly synchronised dance routines. Every day the sheep spent more and more time watching this rubbish. Harold and Aran had no interest in staring at a screen and over time spent more and more time together apart from the flock.
They missed dancing with the rainbows and discussing the issues of the day with different sheep. They noticed the sheepdogs had been replaced with robodogs and when they voiced concerns about this sinister development nobody seemed to care.
'Hey Guys come and watch some BaaBaa videos they're hilarious!' they bleated in unison.
Harold had noticed that many of the flock were getting quite unhealthy and putting on weight due to lack of exercise. Some of them looking quite plump verging on obese. A trend had started where a number of them had started drinking at around two o'clock every day. He was sure some of them had become alcoholic sheep.
Their friend Miguel the Spanish Sheep was always slumped in his pod, pissed out of his head on Sangria by lunchtime, his eyes all bleary and his baa's all slurred. Over time nobody seemed to want to discuss things anymore and all they talked about were BaaBaa videos.
Everyday a set of rules would come up on the screen and everyday new rules were added. The first rule was the wearing of Smartpants. These would be issued to everyone and were mandatory. Each week you would be issued with new Smartpants. These pants would bleep when you were allowed to poo and would register your Co2 omissions. Any sheep that exceeded a certain amount of Co2 omissions would be penalised. No farting and no sharting was allowed.
Results of your COs omissions were posted on your social media. This went towards your social credit score and allowed 'obedient sheep' more perks such as extra toilet breaks or even a bottle of wine. Virtual signaling was taken into account as well as behavior.
Many of the sheep became horribly constipated and many had some nasty embarrassing accidents. By the end of the week the smartpants were often quite unpleasant, smelly and stained.
'No more singing, stay in your pod, wear your pants!' they bleated in unison.
Harold discussed this with Aran they both found it all very strange and deeply disturbing. Every day the flock would go and watch the screen all day and Harold and Aran would try and talk to them.
'Hey guys how about we all have a party tonight and I'll sing all your favorites?' Harold would suggest.
'You can't sing anymore Harold it's not allowed and anyway your not wearing your smartpants!' said Philip as he sat their 'chestfeeding' a lamb.
Harold tried a few times to have philosophical talks about life but no one was interested anymore. The rainbow sheep were cheerleading the group and had helpfully marked out a spot for each sheep to sit socially distant from each other. This was the new way apparently so that the flock stayed healthy. They were always going on about being gender neutral and how that was the way forward. How it was offensive to be too male or too white.
A sign was erected in the field which read: 'Wear your Smartpants - Protect the Environment.'
Harold and Aran didn't want to wear these new pants.
'I'll poo when I want to,' said Harold 'and fart for that matter.' They didn't think they were hygienic and what's wrong with the air circulating around the balls and pooing when you needed to.
Harold tried to tell the sheep this is a way of controlling you...they have a tracking device in the pants telling you when to poo, that's just not right. All the sheep laughed hysterically ..oh Harold you and Aran are just conspiracy theorists!
'Get real mon!' shouted an older Rasta sheep in his new smartpants. 'Wear your pants mon, do as your told,' he bleated in a Rasta accent .
'You're killing the environment!' shouted another.
'Don't you care about your fellow sheep?' bleated Emily hysterically clutching her new born lamb. 'Your farts kill! Make this world a better place for the lambs you farter!' she said her face all snarled up aggressively.
Harold was getting more concerned every day and tried his best to speak his voice. Slowly they all started to shun him. Sean the rainbow sheep had a go at Aran about his horns and suggested he removed them as he found them threatening and offensive.
Philip had also said that if they weren't going to wear Smartpants they could stay away as they found their balls to be offensive and didn't they realize that farts kill.
Harold noticed that all the sheep now wore pants and he couldn't help but notice that many of the sheep were always fiddling with them. They're not smartpants he thought, they're smelly pants. He noticed that the Smartpants tracked the sheep and kept them in their pods only allowing them out at certain times. It was just too weird. Philip always had his hands down his pants. Well that can't be hygienic thought Harold.
Aran and Harold formed a group the freedom sheep and tried to recruit from the flock. They demonstrated everyday but nobody joined and nobody even saw them as with the new rules they had to demonstrate at the bottom of the field and all the flock stayed at the top of the field watching the screen.
Things were going from bad to worse and hard days lay ahead for the two friends. Both their lives were going to change forever and both were going to be tested beyond anything they had ever experienced.