You have two vursk. You count them and learn you have 9 vursk. You count them again and learn you have 42 vursk. You count them again and learn you have 12 vursk. You stop counting vursk and open another bottle of vodka.
You have two mana. The government takes one and claims it is for the people. You now don’t have enough mana to charge your talismans. I don’t have an analogy for the milk part of this joke
You had two cows. Now you have two dozen sheep. Sheep are more comfortable. You did have three dozen sheep, but you have neighbours who are also Malathian.
You had two cows, but the local dragon requisitioned them and enslaved you to care for them. Then he ate them and sent you down the mines.
You had two cows in a darkened shed, covered in diamonds and jewels. Nobody was allowed the milk. They’re dead now, as are you.
Your cows are on fire.
You have two cows, as your forefathers did. They are licenced to you by a pile of forms as high as your table. Blue cows are destroyed on sight.
You have two cows. You paint them blue.
You have two cows.
You have two cows, and will defend them with their lives.
Everybody has two cows.
You have two cows. You are able to sell them for enough money to buy half a roast beef sandwich. You starve. God is pleased with you.