Horse 2: I'm going to be the beloved, nearly fetishized object of a dementedly entitled 10 year old JAP whose dad, Ken Silverman, owns the largest liquor distributor in the state of Nevada. I am going to be pampered! And apparently Ken's youngest daughter is jonesing for a horse too. Potential BFF sitch. Plus, tons of well educated, wealthy male horses living on the adjacent properties. Could totes find a soul mate here.
Horse 3: I despise horses. I dislike horse culture. The dated western mythology, the worship of aesthetics above all else, the fucking forced outdoorsiness. I hate ranches, stables, sawdust, dirt, fields, flowers, galloping. And I hate how shamelessly positive and self-promoting horses are. You're beautiful, you're fast, you're wild, yeah... I get it. I wish this trailer would turn the fuck around and take me to the Santa Monica Farmer's Market on Main Street. Sometimes they have miniature ponies walking around in a circle there. Hipsterdads put their toddlers on top of them. The ponies walk around for a couple hours. That shit is mindless and easy in the best way. I figure I'm pretty undersized. I could pass for a pony. It's a good life. Grub on some blue corn tamales during a break. Buy a little fresh local produce at a discount. Meet some off-beat creative free spirit type chilling in the grass with her friends. Grow a beard. Buy a starter home. Host barbecues and invite other pretty good looking, intelligent non mainstreamers into your backyard where you grow your own kale. Have a baby. Buy expensive organic baby toys that your cool friends confirm are extremely in and thoughtful. Be a little less obsessive and helicoptery than your own parents. Yeah. There is a simple dignity to that. It isn't unique, but it's endurable. Might even thrive at it.
Horse 1: Ahh, shit, that feels good.
Horse 3: What?
Horse 1: Horse 2 is blowing me right now.
Horse 3: Oh. Sweet.