The clock reads a fifteenth after five, and it makes the start of the period of the groundwork for the skeletons at the house; the house that stands alone in a furlong-distant radius. The sky above them may still be dark and yet to have the sunrise to make it blue instead of the classic enriched black navy of the night, but it must be the errands that the skeletons must run to keep the grass around them healthier than humans who eat nothing but drupes and curry from trees with yellow leaves. It would be best to drop the peaches before any one of them reaches their pit.

With grass to cut and leaves to rake out and make new piles and shapes, Skeleton Noel grabs his handy scythe and begins with the grass poking his bone feet. A bet can be made that not one skeleton around the parts has had either a good-working, long-lasting lawnmower, or a lawnmower at all. What else would there be an explanation on the scythe that the Grim Reaper carries around? He needs the burning grass in hell to burn a little quieter, or else, the men that the bad skeletons eat would be overcooked and taste more like brittle sandpaper, rather than the tasty human meat that serves as a great appetizer at the skeleton family reunion dinner. However, Skeleton Noel is, although unfortunate to not taste human, a good skeleton. Good skeletons prefer other foods such as submarines and submarine sandwiches.

Skeleton Noel cuts his grass as the sun begins to show Skeleton Noel what he was cutting; safe to signify that he was not cutting a sleeping dragon with hair, which is not what a skeleton can beat. The sound of the scythe against the grass is all Skeleton Noel could hear, if only he had ears. Because he does not have ears, he cannot hear his speech, and when one who speaks has no hearing to back up their sense, it starts to sound sloppy. So at most times, Skeleton Noel says whatever phonetics and sounds can come out, yet he would have the script of his speech in the key of his brain if he had a brain. But he does not have a brain, for he is not a human, he is just a skeleton. If one can say that a skeleton does have a brain, the rest of the organs of a human would be added, but if a skeleton would have the organs of a human as the sole addition, it would neither be a skeleton, nor a human. So what can this newfound creature be if the combination of such had just been invented?

But we must not let facts ruin the fun images we have when in a passage, so just believe that Skeleton Noel can function without any further interruption that declines the work a skeleton can do when it is alive and well. Skeleton Noel continues on his scythe chopping with the cut grass shooing off to someplace out of the pot of land that Skeleton Noel claims. The coming wind levitates the cut grass over the head of Skeleton Noel and makes him a brand new hat to wear whenever the seasons make it cold for him. And when it does, it will make Skeleton Noel freeze and create sounds of a xylophone under a remote-controlled chicken leg.

After being done with trimming all grass that could be in his vision, Skeleton Noel brings out the Skeleton Cow to eat the cut grass, because it is not worth to have cut grass lying around and not have your Skeleton Cow eat it as its fasting clock exploded and there were rules to avoid. The only rules that Skeleton Cow will abide by will be what law Skeleton Noel puts out to not eat the grass that had not to be cut unless approval of doing so would be placed on the table and enough to make a well-done deal for Skeleton Cow.

Skeleton Cow begins his "job" and gets to the chewing on the cut grass with the hope that the dirt-grass ratio does not go over the wires and taste like footsteps or worms. With a couple of munches in, Skeleton Cow moos loud enough for both the real cows from the grasslands of the out to hear and for the crows lying on the trees to be awaken in shock and fly away back to the south, for it poorly judged the location to sleep in peace, to tell them all in their communication that the grass tastes delicious. Delicious for a cow; a rare sentence to label any type of food a cow can eat, where the cow would eat it well and happily.

After about one hundred and forty-three feet of collective feet had been eaten by Skeleton Cow, there comes a human walking by, being all surprised and amazed at the existence of skeletons walking without flesh and muscles and blood, not to mention the same for a cow. The human walks closer to Skeleton Cow to tip him over, for the human will waste their witness of what they are seeing for tomfoolery to have a laugh and no charge for it. A mellow human who lacks the fear of another human of alive skeletons and skeleton animals being like the standard without a question or a question mark to it is what Skeleton Noel sees behind Skeleton Cow from his chair and tries to give his Skeleton Cow a warning of what would approach him. Skeleton Cow thinks that Skeleton Noel is trying to fight a fly with his waving hand and his pointing finger looking familiar to what Skeleton Cow thinks. With both hands out, the human prepares to tip the cow, hoping it would disassemble like a jigsaw puzzle falling to the table after standing on its side.

It might seem that it was going to go easy for the human and sudden for Skeleton Cow, but the feel of one hand on his side was what all it took. Skeleton Cow felt the force applied from the human to try and take him down, but the human never learned that it does not take just one human to tip a whole cow, even a cow made of bones that were sure to be lighter than a regular, but the human also forgot that since it was a cow, it had plenty of calcium. The baleful eyes of Skeleton Cow made the human want to run away, but there was no hope in beating any type of big cow in a race.

Accepting his fate, the man lets the cow grab his head with his teeth and launch him to the sky up high. The body of the man floating with no spin but a blazing hang time, his skin and flesh starting to erase away and turn into a cloud. The man has reached his apex and begins to come back to his planet, there is no more in him; no hair, no skin, no blood, all there is now is a skeleton. The newly-pronounced skeleton reached the ground feet first near the cow. The Skeleton Cow drew on the grass the new name of the skeleton; Benton. Skeleton Cow picked up Skeleton Benton with his teeth again, this time to take him to a new chair Skeleton Noel made for Skeleton Benton to sit on. And for the rest of the time, Skeleton Noel and Skeleton Benton were outside, all they did was watch Skeleton Cow eat cut grass throughout the pot of land, wishing the forthcoming skeleton well.