WHAT THE FUCK?!

If you thought that nothing could top the gut-wrenching realization that I'm a horse, well you'd be wrong, because then he spoke - and then I UNDERSTOOD him. To clarify, a fucking horse just spoke to me, and I HeArD iT. Maybe I am still dreaming after all? The thought is furthered with the affluent shit this horse said. He is so calm and casual in the face of my non-PMS induced breakdown that it just seems, so out of place, like he's too non-reactionary and mellow that its like I can finally see the matrix bleeding through. Admittedly my screaming settles when he does talk, silenced with disbelief, sort of the same effect a slap might have had - something so unexpected it breaks through the shit storm coalescing around me. The occasional whuffle of a sob strangling itsellf free still underlines his suave chords. It's a sad and forlorn sound, the two of us, something like a great-talent scrounging up a living at a dive bar after drugs and scandal toppled him from his mighty tower and now his only audience is unappreciative drunkards and a battered wife trying to console her wailing infant with partial-smothering. It's the kind of sound that begs you to reasses your life. I'm still peeking at the Mr. Smith in front of me though, the frayed edges of my reality briefly soothed with the thought that no one real would respond like him, meaning he couldn't be real. So when he finally finished, his last line so cheesy he briefly looked like Chester, I began to laugh. It started off slow, but the more itr came out the more I laughed - at myself, at him, at all of this. I laughed until it hurt. "Oh man," I wheezed, my smile hurting my cheeks. "This is some kinda sex dream. I've really got stop watching that kinky stuff on the internet, it's gonna permanently mess with my head." I shook my head and a long drawn out sigh of amusement announced my shifting stature. I stood up, still a bit shaky on all these legs, but I managed the task and even reach down to grab my phone. "I mean, I actually thought this old hag cursed me and turned me into a horse and sent me to this place. And then you," I gestured sloppily at all of him, "show up and not only talk to me, but talk like someone from the fucking Vampire Diaries. I mean, don't get me wrong, you've got the right eyes for the gig, and I bet your dick's massive too, but it's all a bit much, so I'm going to wake up now." M A N D Y