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Fighting back panic, I realized that I'd have to turn around and face whatever or whoever was following me. I gasped when I turned and saw a teenage steer, maliciously chewing his cud and insolently staring back at me. I was horrified still more when I noticed a tattoo on his right shin that read "Hell's Holstein." Underneath the words was a picture of a T-bone steak with a skull and lightning bolt across it. The dry leaves on the ground rustled and I looked about me to see that I was surrounded by several cows. These were not your average docile country cows--these were gang cows!