"We can't keep storing these sheep in the walk-in freezer."
There was a muffled bleat to punctuate her point.
"We have to keep them somewhere, and figure out how they keep appearing in the kitchen," her co-worker snapped, drawing several scrying runes in sugar and pepper.
"They're eating all the frozen peas and getting brain-freeze."
There was another muffled bleat, but less pleased.
"Fine, but we'll have to move them to the pool."