"Why?" he squeeked as he backed off hurriedly.
"You wouldn't understand!" she grumbled. "You're male. You can just walk away from these things!"
"What things?" He really knew this was silly, he should flee quickly while he could still, but his innate masochism drove him to persist. "What wouldn't I understand?"
The Cow looked up, witheringly. "Contraception. There isn't any that's safe, effective, acceptible, affordable... There just isn't. Everything has side effects and the side effects are all calculated to ensure women's bodies are imprisoned and their libidos quashed!"
Mr Timberland opened his mouth, but knew better than to let any sound emerge.
"And then," the Cow continued, "when you finally find something that might just, perhaps, be slightly more tolerable, slightly less toxic, slightly less invasive, than other means - you can't get it locally! Not," she thumped her desk dramatically, "because of some health issue. Oh no! Because of..." her voice rose to a crescendo, "trade regulations!"
Mr Timberland looked startled. "What...?" he gasped.
"Yes!" growled the Cow. "We're talking over-the-counter stuff here! No MCC approval, no randomised drug trials. This is stuff you can buy at a drugstore - like drugstore.com. Or Amazon.com. Only... they're not *allowed* to export this to South Africa! Oh no, this ban isn't about health, it's about commerce!"
A thin line of foam was appearing at the corners of her mouth. Mr Timberland backed off a little, and then ventured, timidly, "Surely it's not about health? That's pleasure, surely, rather than health?"
He ducked just in time as a heavy object came flying over his head and crashed into the wall behind him, knocking several bricks out. He fled. Panting up the stairs, he realised that perhaps it was a health issue after all - though perhaps of the psychological kind.