At the White Barn, the lights were blazing. Trump had asked Weasel McConnell for dinner.  It was to be a celebration.

During the campaign, Pig Trump had said that he would be having regular dinners for all of his supporters. And there would be a special VIP room for the moles from the coal mine.   But to date, there had just been a few events in small halls with the same food from Dumpling Farm and Taco Farm that had been so popular before Pig Trump.

But tonight, the only guests were Weasel McConnell and the richest golden ponies from the Oil Paddock and the Big Apple Orchard.  The ordinary red chickens, who had loyally listened to so many speeches from Pig Trump, had not got an invitation.

Suddenly though, there was an uproar from the White Barn.

The wrong food had arrived. Now these events usually take upwards of a year to plan. But tonight’s event had been rushed together in just a few months.

The menus had not been proof read before printing. And so the wine and vegetables had to be written onto the menu cards by hand.

Although, it shouldn’t have been a surprise as no one had actually believed that the food that would be served would bear any relationship to the menu.

Pig Trump and Weasel McConnell had booked a band called “The Supply Siders” to entertain the guests, and more particularly the animals outside who hadn’t been invited.  Pig Trump and Weasel McConnell had heard of the band from their friends – and all those friends said it would be great – but no one had never actually seen them perform.

And now it seems it was all a scam – the Supply Siders hadn’t played together since Rancher Reagan had been President.

But Pig Trump declared it a success. Which after all, it was for Weasel McConnell and the Golden ponies. They had all eaten and drunk so much, they didn’t actually care whether or not the Supply Siders turned up.

But for the other animals not invited to the feast but waiting around to see the band on the big screens, it was just another disappointment……

In the Sweet Home Paddock, there was a dew on the blue cornflowers which now carpeted half the paddock.  No one could remember just so many blue flowers on the southern boundary of Swamp Farm.

There was a lot of speculation about what would happen next year – blue cornflowers or red roses with their thorns?

After tonight…..while the winter frosts still covered the paddocks, the old animals were saying it was beginning to look like 2010 again….Let’s hope so!