The Prize
“Congratulations!”
Who could it be other than the confounded host? The stallion strode between racks of clothes, mane slicked back and a slimy smile upon his fleshy lips. Done up in a lurid blue suit, you think that he is not out of place in the fancy dress shop after all, but hold back the thought, only a faint smile betraying your true feelings. A flock of cameras follow at his heels, some of the camera crew, the first that you have seen throughout this whole ordeal, holding up bright lights to better illuminate you and the host for the pleasure of the prospective audience. The horse smiles, not revealing his teeth.
“You have completed the first round of our game show challenges,” the horse chuckles and offers his paw to you. “We congratulate you once again, darling.”
You roll your eyes and snort softly, deigning to take his paw so that it is left hovering awkwardly in midair. What a fool you think he is. Regaining his composure, he straightens his white tie, smoothing it down against his broad chest.
“Well now,” he clears his throat. “You will now be able to progress to the next round, which will take place in seven days time, or next week, if you prefer. You will, of course, continue in the guise of a fabulous blue macaw, which I am certain you are fabulously excited about!”
Wait...next round? Next week?
“What is all this about?” You blurt out, struggling to get a word in around the host, who turns towards the cameras to say more. “No way am I doing more than this! I’ve done what you wanted. Now you have to let me go, damn you. I’m not playing your goddamned game any longer, do you bloody well hear me?”
The horse’s eyes darken and his chest expands as he holds in a breath and releases it slowly, holding up his paws in an attempt to placate you. There is a large, ruby red ring on his right forefinger, but you only catch a glimpse of it. What value does that gem hold? Pretending to appear defeated by waving his paws in an exaggerated fashion, the horse slips you the wink of a conspirator.
“Now, now, I wasn’t going to show you the prize from this week until a little later on,” he chuckles and holds a finger to his lips, “but I just think that you deserve it, my dear.”
Two grey-haired canines, veterans of the business, rush forward with a giant photograph of a tropical beach, keeping the heavy edges straight so that the thick paper will not bend. You widen your eyes at the image. The beach is pure white with very fine grains of sand, bordered by a luscious jungle of rich, green foliage. You can almost hear the macaws, like the costume, calling out in the treetops, dolphins dancing in the secluded bay. Seeing that you are impressed, the bay equine waves the photo-carriers before the cameras, capturing the moment for the audience’s benefit.
“You have won a holiday on a tropical island of your choice! As long as that island or location has one of our luxurious Passionfruit Paradise resorts, that is! Fully catered too and all manner of spa and sport activities provided so that you may enjoy the experience to the fullest.” He cocks his head jovially and flicks one ear back and forward again.
Written by Amethyst Mare on 05 August 2013
