So Wikipedia claims that this is not how they really do things at the rodeo, but let's just say that some rodeos do use the rumored technique to get the bronco to buck, they just fell off the grid. I came up with this idea a long while ago when I heard this was what actually happened at the rodeo as a response to what I thought it was like, so accepting the possibility of this' inaccuracy, and the ethical implications on if a rodeo did run like this.
Fireball couldn't believe he'd been selected to play in the rodeo. While the horse workers led him down the hallway to his stall, he had a decent view of the chaos going on outside in the ring. Another stallion has already out there, bucking like crazy, furiously trying to get the rider off his back.
As he was placed in his new stall, the humans poured him some food and water and left.
Fireball was about to eat when he noticed a beautiful grey mare watching him from the next stall over.
"Oh, hello," Fireball nodded graciously, "I'm Fireball. Anything I can do for you?"
"No," said the mare, "I'm just thinking about your fate. About how you're soon be in the same situation as that stallion out there." She looked out into the rodeo, watching the bronco thrash. For the first time, Fireball realized he looked like he was in some sort of discomfort or something.
"Yeah, about that, I'm not sure I'm up for this bronco business to be honest," Fireball admitted, "I feel I'd be much better suited for barrel races or something. What that stallion is doing out there is completely undignified, I don't see how they can make me do that."
The Mare neighed with amusement, "You'll be surprised. You're cute, I look forward to seeing you out there, helplessly trying to get that thing off, Stallion."
Before Fireball could ask another question, she ducked out of sight, but he could still hear her giggling on the other side, "Stallions, poor guys. Can't turn us mares into bucking broncos."
Whatever, he might as well eat before he was on. Not that he was going to give much of a show, he certainly wasn't going to be acting like that other stallion out there.
Fireball was led from his stall, to a pen right beside the corral. A cowboy-like guy climbed onto his bare back, ready to ride. Another guy stood beside him, assisting him.
"You got this?" the guy asked?
"I'm ready!"
"Just let me get on this strap." Said the guy heading toward Fireball's tail. What was he doing back there? Fireball decided to pass it off. "They got these new electronic ones that automatically tighten as much as possible without harming the horse, and it comes undone with just a press of a button." Fireball had no idea what this guy was talking about...
And then he heard the click.
Instantly metal constructed, clamping down harder than he knew possible, right around where it was most sensitive.
Fireball neighed out in agony! The gate flew open and Fireball burst out, throwing his back legs up in the air, trying to get the thing off.
"GET IT OFF! OUCH! OW! GET IT OFF!" He cried, bucking with such ferocity, trying to throw off whatever was around him. The rider balance expertly on Fireball's back, unwilling to be thrown off.
Fireball bucked and thrashed, but the electronic strap stayed firmly in place, unable to be moved.
"GET IT OFF! IT'S TOO SENSITIVE!" Fireballs cried. "IT'S TOO TIGHT!"
As useless as it was, Fireball could not stop bucking. His instinct was to buck, to try to get that thing off of him, no matter how hopeless, and was no less voluntary than one's need to flinch at sudden movements. This was much more violent than flinching though. Each landing, the regaining of his balance before throwing his back legs in the air again was agony. Each time he threw his legs up, the second he felt them come back down, his body needed to do another kick, but he couldn't, he couldn't kick again until the last kick was finished, so every moment one buck landed, he was desperately in another, far too late for him to bare. So the bucks came, one after another, desperate, unable to cease.
But somehow, the rider managed to stay on, second after second, minute after minute.
MAKE IT STOP! Fireball pleaded inwardly, the need to get that thing off unceasing,
Meanwhile, the mare watched from the stall. Yep, this was hilarious, he was so cute out there like that. She was glad she'd never be a bronco.
Finally, around thirty minutes, the rider was thrown off. But that didn't resolve Fireball's problems, the strap was still on, Fireball kept bucking, unable to stop.
But none of the crowd noticed him. They were all cheering. His rider must have won some sort of world record, and they were off, carrying him on their shoulders. The auditorium emptied and the show was over.
Still, Fireball thrashed, every moment that went by unbearable, hoping someone would return to notice him. Okay, It's over, just let me go now.
Finally, a young horse keeper, maybe mid 20s, arrived. Fireball was now rolling on his back, throwing his legs into the air, unable to hold back.
"Oh my goodness," he cried, "you're still out here? Poor thing, let me help you."
Gently, the horse keeper nudged the horse to his feet with his reigns, and led the bucking stallion back to the pin. Once inside, the door locked, the boy turned to Fireball, still bucking in this confined space.
"Here, let me get that strap off you."
The boy made his way toward Fireball's tail. Unfortunately, Fireball could not stop bucking, and just as the boy stepped behind him, Fireball's hoof flew out, connecting right with the boy. Right where it hurt the most.
The boy cried out, collapsing to the floor. Moaning and writhing, he rolled onto his back. That was a mistake. He was right under Fireball's hoof, right where it landed after every buck, Fireball's hoof landing again and again in the same place he was kicked. The boy cried out in agony.
It seemed like forever before anybody else found them (by the boy's co-wrangler/girlfriend of all the self-conscious things), the situation unchanged. Finally, the boy was rescued and the strap removed from Fireball. The moment it loosened; Fireball collapsed in exertion. He had feared it would never end.
As Fireball was led back to his stall, the mare looked at him. "Great show you gave out there, bronco."
"Don't mention it," Fireball grumped, burying his face in his food.
"You're so cute," she replied, looking down at him.
When the owner heard of the incident, guilt filled him. This had not gone well at all (other than the world record). Fireball had provided a great show, but after this ordeal, he figured he should give the horse a break. The boy too.
So the next show, Fireball was no longer a bronco, but a barrel racer, and his rider, the boy, the only one Fireball would work with after the incident.
