“Phew, it reeks in here! Anyway, which paddock was it again… 4…5…6? No, I’m holding the number upside down. Thank God. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with that decrepit old nag, who looks more like she’s destined for the glue factory than the Grand National. 7…8… 9. There’s my mare! Hi there girl, out you come… and, huh?!”
Okay, freeze frame there. I suppose you, as the reader, are wondering how the heck a handsome chap like me landed himself in this madcap situation… whereupon I’d be obliged to provide a l-o-n-g convoluted explanatory introduction about my life up ‘til now, my personality, my appearance, my name, age, shoe size, turn-ons and turn-offs…
Well, I don’t know about you, but I find all those pretentious prologues all kinds of tedious, don’t you? *Proceeds to give you one anyway*
Hi, my name is Kevin. I have a second (and even a third) name, but that’s not very relevant right now, is it? I have brown hair, brown eyes and… white skin. Pretty ordinary, really. I am fourteen years old, and just started at this stupid remote expensive boarding school with mandatory croquet, etiquette and horse-riding lessons because my family thought I was ‘hanging out with the wrong crowd’.
Not sure one tiny spliff of cannabis in my bottom drawer (where my hysterical mother shouldn’t have been snooping in the first place) equates to the end of Western Civilisation As We Know It, but anyway…
My ‘concerned’ folks packed me off here. To leafy Staffordshire. Miles away in the rural countryside from any of my friends, loved ones, favourite hang-outs or even decent wi-fi service. They liked to show-off ‘what responsible comfortably-off middle-class parents are capable of’ they are, you see, by ‘temporarily removing me from the rougher elements of society ‘til I’m a more mature gentleman.’ Very bourgeois, I’m sure you agree.
Even if my dad only owns his own plumbing firm, and my mum works for the civil service, somehow they plastered together the funds to wave me off to the other side of England, when we all could’ve had a nice extended holiday on a cruise throughout the hotspots of Europe instead. Go figure.
The upshot of it is: I’m now stuck attending an elite educational residential institution full of posh pricks who wear straw hats and blazers in the blazing hot summer sun non-ironically, say things like ‘Tally-ho!’ and ‘Balderdash!’ in all seriousness during everyday conversation and won’t donate the meagre scraps left over from dinner to the local village food bank ‘in case hand-outs encourage the underprivileged riff-raff to breed’. Unbelievable, isn’t it? Boarding school ain’t like those whimsical and magical Harry Potter books at all, let me tell you.
(Okay, so they didn’t exactly use the term ‘riff-raff’ in their full colour brochure, but I think you get the gist of their general ethos. And to include that line as a promotional boast, it’s just not on is it? Less JK Rowling, more Charles Dickens is what I’m getting at).
Anyway, I’d had about a week of all these buck-toothed, self-entitled, Hurray Henrys laughing at my ‘shabby’ clothes, my ‘shaggy’ hairstyle, my co*ckney accent (apparently, stinky old London is ‘too ethnically diverse’ these days) and even the ‘common’ way I walk. I could fill an entire story revolving around the sort of disturbing acts I’d like to visit upon these smarmy, snooty, slimy little c**ts.
But imaginary violent revenge stories aren’t the point of the tall tale I’m about to tell, or the age rating on this would be a lot higher (and I’d be less inclined to bleep a lot of the more profane words, as you saw in the last paragraph).
So I’ll skip all the annoying little incidents between me and the intolerable snobs here since my forced induction which have frequently left this social outcast at boiling point, and just arrive at the relevant juncture where my life changed forever. I stumbled into that nondescript stable one fine day expecting a brief trot around a muddy training field, and ended up with so much more.
Not dressage. Not showjumping. Not even a nice game of polo.
But a life-changing unforgettable experience which would echo throughout the ages, spread by generation after generation in hushed whispers over candlelight as the legend continued to grow, and…
Well, perhaps I’m overselling it. Just a tad. But it was pretty f*cking wild and weird, to say the least.
Are you ready? Standby to strap yourselves in (or jump in the saddle, to use a topical equestrian reference) and prepare to be dazzled!
Or, just peruse the first chapter until you decide whether you wanna hang around or not. Either way works for me, I’m not getting paid for this in any case. Ciao!
As I seem to remember mentioning before, I was all ready to jump on my noble steed, gallop outside amongst all the other buckin’ broncos and really show them what I was made of. Hi-ho Silver, away! Indeed.
A few minor observations caused me to temporarily put my long-standing ambition of being the next Roy Rogers or John Wayne on hold though, and instead made me go all googly-eyed and stuttery like I’d just taken a sledgehammer directly to the bonce. More than once. Here, let me draw you a picture…
Oops sorry, I forgot… this is strictly a non-illustrative story. I’m a much better writer than I am an artist though, so it’s all for the best. If there’s a lucrative market for stick men though, I’m in! Let’s move on, shall we…?
“Y-You’re purple. Y-Your mane is so many different shades. Y-You have a horn. A-A starry tattoo. A-A-And are those wings?!”
As you can see, I was on the cusp of having the mother of all freak-outs at discovering a hitherto unknown mythical creature at the back of St. Crispins School For Very Posh But Very Vicious And Disturbed Teenage Boys. It looked as if I’d be spending my latter educational days in a nice cushioned room without windows at the nearest asylum, which after dwelling amongst ‘the cream of aristocracy’ for the best part of seven days sounded more tempting than it probably should be.
The only note of caution which completely stopped me totally losing my ever-loving mind was the sneaking suspicion that my fellow students here had set this up as some kind of ‘hilarious’ elaborate joke. I fully expected them to come out in their hundreds any minute now from carefully-chosen hidey-holes, pointing and sneering at my discomfort in that irritating way only young rich idiots can. Gee, how I’d love to take those silver spoons out of their yapping maws and shove them right up their… aaanndd we’re going off track again.
“Very funny, guys! Don’t you think it’s a bit late now for an initiation prank? I’ve been here for a few days, at least! You should’ve put toothpaste in my bed, poured clotted cream into my luggage or left a cherry bomb underneath the toilet seat first night I was here. Oops I forgot, you did all that stuff already. Along with generally making my life a living hell since I arrived. Still, it’s all a bit sick, ain’t it? Putting purple dye on an innocent pony, sticking a pair of fake wings and a horn on her, spraying graffiti all over her flank then leaving her alone here for me to find as if any of this is actually funny. Trust you lot to pick on an animal who’s so much smaller than the rest of her peers, too. And what’s this engraved in a golden plaque on the stable door? ‘Twilight Sparkle’? That has to be the stupidest, lamest, made-up name for a pony I’ve ever heard in my entire…”
“Excuse me, but my beloved parents Twilight Velvet and Night Light would not be pleased to hear you talk that way! They chose that name especially for me and it reflects my Cutie Mark, which I assure you isn’t in the least bit fake! Just like my horn and wings: you see I’m an alicorn, I’ve been kept prisoner here for a while, and I…”
“AARRGGHH… mmmmmm.”
Folks, do not adjust your sets. What you just heard there was, and I swear with every fibre of my being, a walking, talking horsie… I mean, pony, I mean, unicorn… I meant, ‘alicorn’, of course. Hey, what am I saying… I’m trying to be polite towards a creature that shouldn’t even exist in this modern age of the internet, Deliveroo and prescription drugs! (A few of which I was either on right now, or wish I was).
But here she was, bedecked in full multicoloured and multi-starred glory, staring up at me with both slight concern for my panic-stricken demeanour, and undisguised indignation for the unintended insults I just dispensed directly to her.
What the... now I’m ascribing exclusively human emotions to an animal, like I’d just stepped inside some kind of cheesy 40’s animated Disney movie! The way my day was going so far though, it wouldn’t be the biggest shock in the world if Mickey Mouse did appear from behind a stray bale of hay in full Sorcerer’s Apprentice regalia to start magically moving a bunch of brooms-with-hands about. This place could do with a bit of a tidy-up, anyway.
Speaking of magic… well, actually I couldn’t ‘speak’ right now, because my mouth was currently sealed up with some kind of mystic spell this weird creature had cast upon me. I could tell this, by the way her horn had started glowing lavender at about the same time my tongue stopped working. And if you knew what a chatterbox I am by nature, this event was a minor miracle in itself.
“I’m sorry I had to temporarily hush you Kevin, but I’ve been working too long and too hard towards my escape to endanger it now. I don’t really want to abandon you under these trying circ*mstances though, as it sounds like you have major friendship problems you need serious help with… what to do, what to do… I know! This may seem like quite an excessive step, but I can’t in all good conscience allow someone with more genuine compassion and morality than anyperson I’ve met here to stay and be bullied and mistreated along the lines you just unintentionally informed me of. You’re coming with me, where I can make sure you’re safe. Shall we depart?”
At the same time as my mute self was trying to figure out how this now apparently psychic alicorn knew my first name, oh right, I have it as a tag on my riding jacket… at least something in Crazytown makes sense. I felt myself floating through the air towards her hindquarters before she spoke again, this time whilst deep in thought.
“Hmm, you’re a bit too big to sit on my back as you are, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to change you temporarily. It’s just for a little while until we reach Ponyville and I’ve explained to all my friends where you came from, so try not to worry. Here goes…”
The spell began taking place even as Twilight Sparkle spread her surprisingly vast feathery wings to take off, and I began getting the distinct impression of shrinking as we took to the air to fly far, far away. Naturally, all my clothes began falling off (oh dear, there go my jodhpurs) simultaneously as they could no longer house such a small frame, but oddly enough right at this moment unrequested major bodily modifications were the least of my worries.
What was somewhere nearer the top of my list was: Where am I being taken? Will I ever see Earth again? Does she even have a flying licence? And why did my illegal abduction have to take place before Home Ec, the one lesson I’m actually good at and enjoy? Holy f*ck… when it’s not your day…
But pondering and struggling would ultimately get me nowhere in this unfathomable situation I now found myself in. My alicorn chauffeur blasted through the roof of the stable with her Awesome Magic Laser Ray (of course) and then we were well off, flying at an impossibly high speed through the clear blue with me strapped in at the back unable to move an inch.
As we left the familiar confines of my home planet altogether, I thought I caught a brief glimpse of all my former classmates outside staring up in awe at me as I left them far behind, just like in The Neverending Story.
Only difference was, I was astride an alicorn making a swift getaway rather than a Luck Dragon from the mythical land of Fantasia. And I’m pretty sure Bastion Bux wasn’t completely naked during his long post-movie flight. That would’ve sent the censors a bit doolally, dontcha think?
Still, it’s not like I had much more time to consider my brand new compact form or even what lay ahead in my increasingly uncertain future. We flew past clouds, birds, even an aeroplane or two, before quickly penetrating the troposphere, stratosphere, mesosphere… then it was as if time and space itself seemed to rip apart, and dimensional barriers ceased to exist…
Not that I was awake for any of this malarkey, of course. The sheer shock of the horseback ride to end all rides and hardly being able to breathe so high up quickly put paid to that fanciful notion, and there was a huge pending question mark about what kind of world I’d wake up to when I eventually found myself back in the land of the living.
Goodnight, y’all. Make sure no-one touches my things while I’m away, ya hear?
