Eight ponies and a queen,
At a royal party,
Everything was right,
All was happy and hearty.
Eight ponies and a queen,
Twenty minutes on,
Something was not right,
As the queen was completely gone.
Eight ponies by themselves,
With the floor soon covered with vomit,
As one unlucky pony opened two doors,
And found another hanging in the closet.
Seven sat all stressed,
As they all could not escape,
They found another, under the stairs,
With its mouth covered in tape.
Six now remain,
While their brains become all twisted,
It stops and listens to the faint cries of a pony who has been strapped to a table. It slowly looks back to the piece of paper and continues to write,
But what they all don’t know is,
It grabs the knife from the left side of the piece of paper. Slowly, the pony stands up and strides toward the table where the other pony lay, the knife held with great strength in its hoof.
The ninth guest never existed