It started down in Fillydelphia.
Chudbrake was walking down the street, intent on getting to the theater before the show started. He wasn't the type of pony who goes to plays like this very often, but this was an exception because the play just sounded so enjoyable.
If only he could remember what it was called. Or what time it started. Or where the theater was. He had partied a little too hard the night before.
Now he was lying in the gutter. Ow. he said to himself. My head. Holy mother of cud, how much cider did I *have*? And what's this about a show? I've already seen Equestrian Sniper three times!
He looked up to see a potato playing checkers on his limp body.
Oh man, he wondered. What if that stuff I was snorting wasn't just bleach? He heard a loud bang, and saw a tree leaning toward him, but chalked it all up to another hallucination.
The tree started to creak as it leaned back and forth before falling on him with a dull thud.
Twenty minutes and fifty-three seconds later, Officers Fookinbottom and O'Hammock examined the scene.
