My real fear, which does not have a formal name, is of the stock image at the top of the PT. The bad acting of the poor-man's Liam McPoyle, dressed in his split pocket flapped chambre shirt, sends shivers down my spine. it requires all of my attention and i am terrified of the internal reaction that my body and brain have had.

My only real fear is a strange combination of lutraphobia and chronophobia. It's not exactly the fear of otters and the fear of time, but a specific combination. I'm afraid of a specific otter hitting regression. When this happens, it will signal the end of cow days (hay days?), and the decline of my skill and talent as a simulated hockey cow.

I combat this by grinding my udder off, season after season, so that when regression hits i will have enough talent stored up that i will still have a few useful seasons before my aged body is sent to the slaughterhouse.

This fear was born when my childhood barn was haunted by the time weasel, which im sure other people have seen in their nightmares as well. The time weasel would torment my dreams, and then i would wake up, but all of the clocks in the house would be wrong and there would be some time left on the microwave. truly haunting.