Farming was a very wealthy way of life nowadays, and hell, everyone knew it. If you weren't a farmer, you were searching to be a farmhand or a business trying to sell the products farmers made.

Price noted that, deciding to round up his dear friends and make a farm of their own called '141'. It was tough at first, but they grew to be at competition with other farms around the globe, like the Las Almas Farm, the Konni Farm, and many more.

...

It was a pleasant evening so far, Price making sure everyone was up, Ghost looking after the cows, Soap and Roach herding the sheep, and Gaz feeding the horses. When it came to time to give the animals their breakfast, they heard the sounds of distant crashing and yelling, much to their surprise. The team quickly found themselves standing before a holding pen, one containing a small, foal centaur.

"What the hell?! We don't have a centaur!"

Ghost exclaimed, watching the centaur increasingly get more steppy, charging at the sides of the pen in frantic movements. Roach and Gaz quickly step forward, Gaz trying to usher the centaur away from the fence to calm them down, while Roach mutely waved his hands to try to get their attention.

"Yeah, uhm... I did order more horses... but I think I might've instead asked for a centaur..."

Soap muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched the centaur, beginning to think about his last purchase. I mean, the guy did seem kind of shady...

"You what?!"

Price exclaimed, snapping his gaze over to Soap, eyes wide.

"Soap! This is a centaur! A centaur! And a child! The kid's ears and legs are too long for it's body! Where's it's mother!"

Price continues, before Soap holds his hands to his chest defensively, palms facing Price.

"I didn't do it on purpose! I saw a flyer for a guy selling horses! I didn't know that was code for a now orphaned centaur!"

Soap exclaims, Price groaning in frustration as he watched Ghost look around frantically, only spotting the delivery truck speeding away.