Once upon a time there was a little goat who wasn't very happy because he only had three legs. The fourth leg - the left hind leg to be precise - had been bitten off by an angry salt miner one day in a nasty confrontation in the market place, which did the goat's reputation no good, although it was already suffering from bad publicity over a certain incident one year previously which had something (no-one was quite sure what) to do with a pair of fluorescent green wellington boots, a chimpanzee in nun's garb and half a carton of low-fat strawberry yoghurt.

Shortly after the incident with the salt miner the goat's mother died and he inherited six mouldy turnips, a box of assorted wing nuts and a pair of ladies' size 22 frilly underpants with a bite out of the seat. He gave the turnips to a friend of his who liked that kind of thing, ate the underpants and threw away the wing-nuts. After that he was depressed for about six months, until he suddenly realised that it wasn't so bad to have 25% less legs than he had been born with, as it meant he actually got a seat on the bus, and people let him jump the queue in banks and so on.

His handicap didn't actually become a problem until the day he fell in love with a rabbit. He tried to sit down next to the rabbit to talk to her, but fell ungracefully on his backside. The rabbit would have found this amusing if the goat hadn't sat on her and killed her in the process. The rabbit's family were incensed and demanded the goat give them compensation. The poor little goat fretted over this for weeks and weeks, until he decided that the best thing to do was to sire a bunch of little goatlets and give the best one to the rabbit family. So off he went to find a girl goaty that he didn't find utterly repulsive.

After much searching he finally found one in the far-flung nowhere city of G'bukangar'uu'la, which no-one ever went to unless they were seriously bored. The girl goaty didn't have a name, but then neither did the boy goaty, so they dispensed with formalities and set about making a family of little goatlets. After a suitable interlude the girl goaty gave birth to a bunch of little goatlets. After a little while longer, the boy goaty set off with the nicest looking little goatlet (who, incidentally, was female, and the same colour as the departed rabbit), and presented the rabbit family with the little goatlet, whom they named Bunny. The boy goat couldn't see the point of giving her a name, as goats are notorious for not having any (and not remembering them if given any), but the rabbit family was so ecstatically happy that he didn't want to spoil their day by pointing out this particular bit of goat-lore, so he left them with the goatlet and went home.

When he got home he found a family of voles living in his bathroom cabinet. This was extremely inconvenient for the goat because he really hated finding vole-tracks in his shave stick. In an attempt to resolve the situation he went to the vole embassy and demanded that they give him a new shave stick. They did so, mostly to get rid of him, and he kept it locked up in a little box at the bottom of his fridge. As he never shaved anyway, this was not inconvenient at all, or at least, not until everything in the fridge tasted like shave stick, at which point he threw the fridge out because he didn't like unspreadable butter in the first place.

He was then depressed for about another three months, and then he had a wonderful idea. In the middle of the night he put a piece of cheese, a bottle of invisible ink, the latest TV guide, a popsicle stick and a bobby pin into a plastic supermarket bag, tied it around his neck and jumped off a cliff. By the time he was found, several thousand years had passed, and he was dead.

The archaeologist who found him had a nervous breakdown, mostly from the smell.

The psychologist who treated the archaeologist thought he was a raving looney, and wrote a rather bad biography of him just for the heck of it.

Meanwhile, the direct descendants of the rabbit family were being experimented on by a bunch of uni students, who were rather surprised to discover that the rabbits wouldn't eat goat poo as had previously been assumed they would.