So, for some reason I've been really busy lately. Couple busy-ness with laziness, and you get zero new blogs, no doubt a sharp disappointment to my four loyal readers. So, here's something I wrote for MonkeyBicycle, which is an excellent lit/humor site you should visit daily, if not hourly. Anyway, here ya go, four readers!
THE BEGINNINGS OF TEN STORIES ABOUT PONIES
By
Wendy Molyneux
ONE
I saw the pony there, just standing there, just standing in the rain. And that’s when I knew that I was going to leave my wife.
TWO
At the time this all happened I was on the run from this mean-ass pony named Chad. I owed Chad thirty thousand dollars, and I was thirty thousand dollars short.
THREE
I still remember that one hot summer. The way the heat made the cars seem to shimmer as they drove by us on the way to godknowswhere, the way the girls I had known all my life were suddenly women – taller and wiser than us boys - but most of all I remember that night when we all gathered around the black and white TV set to watch as the first pony walked on the moon.
FOUR
On Fridays, the ponies got paid. And after they got paid, they got drunk. And when they got drunk, you bet your ass somebody was going to get hurt or broken.
FIVE
A lot of stuff’s been said in the papers lately about what went down at the Federated Bank that afternoon. Some people say we did it for money. Some say we did it for glory. But none of them know the real story of how it started. It started with a little girl who wanted a pony.
SIX
When that pony walked into my gym and said she wanted to learn how to box, I said no. And I said no for the next thirty days when she walked in asking the same thing. And then for some reason, on the thirty-second day, I said yes.
SEVEN
The street was teeming with people jostling and shouting and waiting for the motorcade to come down the street. And what with all the noise and the excitement and the general chaos, no one thought anything of it when a pony burst past the barricades just as the President’s car came into view.
EIGHT
No one saw the pony rebellion coming. No one but Brent Steel.
NINE
Jeremy Chadwick had eaten one hundred hot dogs in one sitting. He had eaten seventeen blueberry pies at the County Fair, taking home the blue ribbon. He had eaten an eight-pound hamburger, a jar of jalapeños, and a tub of ice cream on a dare in college. One time, to impress a girl, he had even eaten sixteen pennies. But there was one thing, just one thing, that Jeremy had never eaten.
TEN
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. And there was this fucking pony, too.
