Did you know that some masters dress their horses up like dolls? Britton does that to me. Sometimes I think Britton mistakes me for Chicho. He slips on the big pants and gets to work on my outfit. Every once in a while I even get a hat. It's so silly when Britton puts on me.
Spit on me. I'm nasty.
The wings got torn off of my friend the robin, his name is Hau. He just hops around the the ranch now. No soaring freedom glory buns for Hau. Hau are you? I'm good, thank you.
Not a drop to drink. Britton dried up all the water for his prune collection. He feeds the piglets moist prunes because he says that it's healthy for him. He says it is important to their diet and their daily nutritional supplement. I know Britton is not lying because mother horse is a big and strong and all she ate as a babe was prune envoy. Prune essence.
We all have an essence.
If you stare at the pink purple light, your essence will be taken, and you are now my slave. Bill is now my slave. I whip Bill when he doesn't brushwood woof me. Bill is Britton's. Neck snappers, unite!
Pour a little penny in my well.
Pour a little love into my heart. I am love.
Love me. Tickle me. Beg me. Throw me in the dungeon. I'm a sick dog. They injected me with the sickness and I'll never be well. I'll never go swimming in a well.
She comes to the horse lunch. This again? What? Get over here.
We're past that.
Think about the past. Do you hear the echo? I don't. There are no echoes in the past. Unless your past involves you screaming into a dark cave with no life.
This is.
