Once we went to the Pretzel Hut at the petting zoo, while I held a bunny. My friend, which he said would be funny, wanted to steal a goat, or two.

I scoffed at the idea, Pretzel crumbs tumbled in fear, I said “steal a goat! You must be joking Bernard. How would we get it out of the yard? We’d need a distraction to bamboozle the guard.

He washed the last chunk of warm and salty pretzel dough down with cool-aid he kept in a flask. Then a triumphant smirk emerged on his face, an expression of “I know how to handle this task.” Out flicked his battered iPhone 6, no fancy apps, no fancy tricks. Simply dialled his last called contact. Daryl Dix. A man constantly mistaken for the famous Walking Dead dude, which sent him into a terrible mood. But beside this dude’s terrible moods and all the anger that ensued, he was a wizard with plans that involved barnyard pets.

Begrudgingly I agreed. Motioning to my hands tied at the sleeve. So we scoped out the guard and the goat and grotty greasers by the kids who had each other at the throat. Six parents involved dismantling their grips, ripping them apart and tearing them to strips. I almost choked on my beer. A single bubble left on my lips.

Daryl Dix approaches after a fifteen minute wait. He’d brought a bag of ideas: a length of rope; a flare gun; a roll of duct tape and a donut as bait. Not for the goat as you might presume. But the security guard to consume. So as we resume, and went on to the petting zoo, we giggled like school kids then pushed ourselves through.

As Daryl lay the donut, the guard’s nose twitched. Then clonked him on the head with a tremble and a twitch. Clasped his keys hard like a man feeling rich. Then bolted to his pals; holding their grips.

He told us his his tale of woe, the one of incapacitating our security foe. Stunned and shocked our faces dropped. But soon recovered by the prospect of obtaining our goat. “Okay okay, no we can make this work.” We ambled along hand in coat. Duct tape, rope and flare to hand. Approaching the pen, like merry men in a band.

Darryl fired the flare as it blitzed in the sky. We jumped back in horror as our ears did fry. Unlocked the pen, while faces stood perplexed at the firework over head. We felt adrenaline, excitement and a shred of dread. We tied the rope as a make-shift leash. The gate left ajar for the others’ release. We three hightailed it in the distant sun. Leaving only the duct tape as we went on the run!