I used to be a man. Now I am but a pony, a very special pony. I am plagued by something, something of extreme un-pleasantness. I made a deal with Death to get this way. Why you ask? Because to me twenty-seven years is a little less than comfortable to live. And now? I live out my life going by this deal, living each day however I want. I live my life as a monster, an intelligent monster mind you, but a monster.

----

In search of cover-art.