The salesman blinked, confused. “Extras?” he repeated. “What extras could a cow possibly have?” The old farmer adjusted his hat, reached into his pocket, and slowly pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Well,” he said calmly, “since you’re buying the deluxe version, I figured you’d want everything included.”

The salesman frowned but stayed quiet as the farmer began to read: base price of cow $500, grass conversion system (turns grass into milk) $150, built-in alarm clock (moos at sunrise) $75, rear bumper (tail) $25, and four-wheel drive system $200. With each item, the list sounded more absurd, yet the farmer continued without a hint of humor.

He went on: leather upholstery $300, waste management system (fully automatic) $100, entertainment package (occasional kicking and mooing) $50, fuel tank (stomach) $125, and onboard fertilizer production $175. The salesman’s jaw dropped lower with every line until he finally burst out, “Are you serious? This is ridiculous!”

The farmer calmly folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. “Well now,” he replied with a straight face, “that’s exactly what I thought when I bought that pickup truck from you.” He reminded the salesman how he had been charged for “extras” he never asked for—power features and add-ons that only inflated the price. “I just figured I’d return the favor,” he added.

After a long pause, the salesman sighed and tore up the check. “Alright, let’s try this again,” he said. They soon agreed on a fair price with no surprises. As the salesman and his son led the cow away, the boy whispered that the farmer had outsmarted him. The salesman chuckled and replied, “No, he just reminded me how business should be done,” and from that day on, he kept every deal honest and clear, without any unexpected “extras.”