Centaur Celebration (Christmas Traditions)

Confessions of a Young Colt (Christmas Traditions)

-Confessions of a Young Colt-

Well, it's Christmas time again, and you know what that means! I have to write another stupid article for this magazine.

This is the fourth year in a row that I've been forced into doing this, but as you all know, my dad is not a stallion you want to mess with.

So, as long as I obey what the old kaffer says (that means stupid old male horse for you young foals), I can write (and say) whatever I want.

During the Holidays, there are lots of things every Centaur likes to do. But as my Dad, the editor of this magazine said, I have to write about what my family herd enjoys doing most instead.

Which indecently makes it much harder, but as it seems I'm the only colt who cares, it doesn't make a difference.

The first thing we all do on Christmas morning is go out for a run.

Living in modern Ireland, you'd think people would stop and stare all the time, but it seems everyone around us has gotten used to the idea of having half-human half-horse creatures running around.

The whole herd goes, about twenty of us, galloping across the hills and fields, whether rain or . . . well, most of the time it's just rain, not really any shine.

There is a certain old Scot pine that has never been cut down (my father wouldn't stand for it) that we all run to, and the person who gets to it first, then back to our stable cabin, gets to open his or her presents first.

In a rare moment of geniality, my father lets the young ones of the herd win . . . well, most of the time. And also, whoever gets back to the house first gets out of the freezing cold, so it's really a win-win.

As for the thought of food, even though most Centaur families seem to have their Christmas feast on Christmas Day itself, my herd waits until the day after.

Reasons for this are: too much to do on Christmas day (my Mom), we have a big breakfast anyway (my Dad) and it's better to veg-out completely than help with cooking on the day you're supposed to enjoy your presents (me).

As for what our feast looks like, it's the same as everyone else's: cranberry sauce, roasted squash, mashed potatoes, wild turkey, cream of corn, fruit salad and our own family concoction: broccoli in cheese sauce, with crumbled bread and butter on top. We call it "Crust."

My suggestion is to not ask why.

There are about 4 big bowls of each item, except for the turkey. We hunt ten of them (more if needed) and roast them on an open fire.

Then of course, there is the wine, mead, cider, hot cocoa, apple juice, and various other bubbly drinks that my uncles like to bring, that are served as well.

On Christmas night, after all the presents are opened and everyone has had their fill of wine and fruit cake, we set up a projector in the game room and watch, "Elf."

Yes, I know, it's not a movie that features centaurs in any way, but we all find it hilarious. Just something about the idea of elves being little creatures that work for a big fat guy is entertaining.

And then, there's another tradition, that although I can't take part in it, it is still pretty amusing.

All the young fillies of my herd have a competition called, "The Mane Event."

I know, it's a terrible pun, and I've repetitively told them that. I somehow always end up with a face full of grass afterwards. Or, when it's wintertime, snow instead.

Anyway, if you've ever seen the human show, "the Bachelor," it's basically the same thing, except for centaur hairstyles. And don't worry, if you haven't seen, "the Bachelor," you haven't missed anything important.

Essentially, they go through rounds of elimination for hairstyling competitions, and the last filly standing is obviously the winner.

The entertaining part of it is that fights break out very easily, and it's honestly better than any human reality TV show ever. I think it's because when humans fight, they just have legs and hands, and when girl centaurs fight, they have hands, hooves, teeth, and tails (and those things are DEADLY).

You can probably imagine how these things can get pretty violent.

It's still probably one of the most looked forward to events in the Christmas season, and even though it's only for fillies, it's still fun for those who sit back and watch (like me).

So, there you go. I swear writing things you don't want to be writing is harder than pulling off your own shoe.

Keep this magazine under your arm, don't let the humans see it, and you should be all ready for next year.

I hope everyone out there has a good Christmas, yada yada yada, and thanks for reading.

And remember:

Don't walk with wisps, fight with fairies, or hang out with humans.

Best possible regards,

-Cedric C. Colten

Son of the editor-in-chief, Charles C. Colten.