Now, even for educated folks a name like Antoine Jean Baptiste D’Angoulême was a mouthful. Every new job had a new silly nickname for the bulky, swarthy skinned cajun. Tony, usually, Po-boy (because louisiana, supposedly) the ever ironic naming a large man Tiny. But, up in the mountains hauling coal; he was Danders and Dandy, which sounded nothing like his proper surname.
Dandy lived in a motorhome with his wife down at the trailer park close to the highway. Never blessed with children, Mrs. Dandy occupied herself with raising fluffy ponies while Dandy worked in the coal mines.
This author shan’t bore you waxing poetic about being passionate and hot blooded due to their french ancestry, no, Dandy and his wife were just a bit trashy and liked to indulge in alcohol, then to have big dramatic fights that woke the whole neighborhood. Of course, they would mend their marriage a few days later … in a way that woke the whole neighborhood.
During one such fight, Dandy loaded up his truck bed camper vowing never to return, taking the last carton of marlboros and his favorite fluffy pony, Suzette. Dandy parked down the road from the mines so he could walk to work and save on gas, leaving little Suzette, a lovely grey and lavender pegasus mare, all on her lonesome.
Surely such a well behaved fluffy pony couldn’t get into mischief in a locked camper for twelve hours.
But sure enough, by some trick of fate, the latch on the aging truckbed camper’s window had rusted away, and it only took the vibration of a passing semi to shake the window loose.
Suzette was a good fluffy, and knew the dangers of being outside alone, but … what fluffy could resist exploring? Curiosity got the better of her, and Suzette found herself in the woods beside the truck and camper.
Everything smelled delightful. Everything tasted delightful. The sun was warm and the breeze soft. The shiny beetle she ate did not taste delightful but it certainly was pretty before it met its untimely end.
It just so happened upon this day, that Big Bad John the coal miner fluffy happened upon the same patch of grass in the woods as little Suzette.
”Wao, mawe so pwetty! be Jawn spechu fwen?”
The suave seduction worked, of course.
After the intense and prolonged lovemaking of about 20 seconds, John and his speshu fwen reclined together in the grass, cooing and nuzzling each other.
A holler echoed down the trees from the dig site, “Johnny! Where’d you git to?! Lunch!”
John intended to be right back to his special friend, but the fluffy forgot. Please don’t think too harshly of John, because a really good pulled pork sandwich could make you forget your own name; the way these coal miners barbecued.
Suzette was also distracted chasing a butterfly, because clearly they had to be friends, they both had pretty wingies, and forgot all about her special friend.
A few days later, though, back at the trailer with Mumma Dandy after the warring couple made their ‘apologies’, Suzette felt her tummeh babbehs kicking. She remembered the special hugs and she remembered her special friend’s face, but did not catch his name in their whirlwind romance.
Not thrilled about harboring an unwed mother, but also being a staunchly catholic family, an abortion was out of the question for the fluffy floozy. Suzette would have no choice but to be a single mother.
Dandy was laid up for a few weeks due to a horrific accident up at the mines, stuck at home being doted on by his wife and cuddling the bowling ball shaped pastel pegasus watching sleazy talk shows where people yelled and threw chairs at each other. Dandy couldn’t imagine such classless people.
Suzette’s delivery went smoothly and she was the proud mummah of three little colts, one wingie and two earthie all of dull colors with the same ashy light grey mane. Dandy teared up a little upon seeing that familiar color of mane.
Once Dandy was feeling better, the whole family made the trek up to the closed dig site, where rocks and timber were scattered by the collapse. Amidst the rubble standing tall and proud was Suzette’s special friend. Well, a statue of him anyways.
“When your sons are older, Suzette, we shall tell them all about their daddeh and what a hero he was.”
