Sunday, 7th August 2011

The Pony

You'd think it's one of those wonder tales you hear the pub, an extravagant yarn that's stretched beyond physics and reality but good all the same on the retelling. It's out of your mind sadly once the ale is drunk and the sawdust is swept under the tables and into the fire place. But you might be wrong.

Sometimes, when you lurk a little at teh local you can get yourself some good material. who am I you ask, I'm the unobtrusive patron sitting at the end of the bar. The guy nursing that one pint, creepily, hoping you'd tell a tale worth remembering. Worth one-upping. Sometimes, I'm that lucky bastard telling the tales and getting a free pint or two along the way to keep the throat wet and the words loose.

Lots of young'uns these days are used to the pony stories. Flying ponies, magick ponies and unicorns that fly. Jokes about teh Pegasus Galaxy! Puntastic that was. Ha, occassionally I wonder if MLP Corp really knew what they were experimenting with. And if they knew, would they still have gone ahead.

they used to be expensive pets, custom creations to pander to the rich and famous. Now it's like Planet of the Apes with more benevolent ponies instead. What's PotA? never mind, you probably haven't seen it ... It's ok, the Pony over there didn't hear or rather doesn't care. Not all of them do. There's only so many of us left who remember the 'old days' and I can't even call them the "good old days". It was no Golden Age, because seriously, they weren't. We were running ourselves to ruin anyway, why quibble over how we no longer believe we rule the universe?

My ma thought they were real cute. My sister grew up wanting one just like everybody else. And me? I just grew up.

And that pony story. Yeah i heard that one before. But not like how the boy told it. Now that's a story everyone thinks they already know but something changes with each telling. And everyone's got a sister or an aunt or a girlfriend who went through it. Yeah, meeting a Pony for that first time sort of story.

A few older gals would say, they knew someone who had a Pony. And that was something special back in those days. They used to come with your cereal boxes and possibly on display in aisle five. Just kidding. Course you can't fit the whole Pony. Just a little picture tellin' you, you'd won that chance to meet one. The boys and gals that got that... went away and most times never came back. You're always left with second and third hand taleson what happened. Like my second cousin twice removed had this old school friend, who's sister went and came back. That's an odd one. The gal never spoke again and used to watch the skies on the odd rainy day. But whenever someone mentioned "Pony", she'd cry like her heart was gone.

Now, you tell me, how's that for a happy ending?