Big John, a man whose girth was only surpassed by his ego, owned a prize-winning yellow horse named Sunny. Sunny, however, had a distinct dislike for carrots, a fact Big John refused to acknowledge. Every year, the town held the annual Carrot Chariot Race, and Big John, naturally, was determined to win with Sunny.
“Sunny, my boy!” Big John boomed, slapping Sunny’s flank with a surprisingly delicate touch for a man his size. “Today, we conquer! We’ll win those golden carrots and the coveted ‘Fastest Carrot-Fueled Chariot’ trophy!”
Sunny, unimpressed, stared blankly ahead. He’d seen the carrots. He’d smelled the carrots. He’d even tasted a carrot once (a horrific experience involving a very stubborn farmer and a particularly crunchy root vegetable).
The race began. Other chariots, laden with enthusiastic horses and determined drivers, surged forward. Big John, however, was quickly falling behind. Sunny, in a blatant act of equine rebellion, refused to budge beyond a slow trot.
“Giddy up, you lazy lump!” Big John roared, his face turning the same shade as Sunny’s coat. He frantically flailed his whip, but Sunny simply yawned, exposing a shockingly large number of teeth.
The crowd chuckled, their laughter echoing across the field. Big John, mortified, felt the sting of defeat.
Then, as the victorious chariot crossed the finish line, Sunny suddenly sprang into action. He bolted, not towards the prize, but towards a massive pile of discarded hay, kicking up his heels with a joyful neigh. Big John, clinging on for dear life, was dragged across the field, ending in a heap beside the hay pile.
“Revenge is a dish best served with hay,” Sunny seemed to say, munching contentedly. The crowd roared with laughter. Big John’s “Yellow Horse Revenge” was complete, although not in the way he’d intended.
