I (Sort of) Listened to Max and Janey

The Water Horse of Pond Lake Loch

In a desert long ago, in a world much like our own but different in every way possible, stood a lonely pond. Though it was a puddle far too large to be considered a pond, it stood shriveled and quivering behind its rather deceiving name, Pond Lake Loch. Even more confusing than the name of this lake, Loch, pond, was what it contained. It was a magical little pond, sparkling beneath the surface like an ethereal night sky, it was home to a strange but delightful creature called a water horse. No one was quite sure why this water horse decided to make his home in Pond Lake Loch in the middle of the desert but, he was happy and paid the judgment of the rest of the world, not a single iota of mind.

As you can imagine, the water horse, who we shall call Keith, hardly ever had a visitor or saw another living creature. Even his pond lay barren except for himself, having taken up the hobby of fishing many years ago. Though he regretted killing all of his Pond Lake Loch companions, he greatly enjoyed his fish skin decor and accessories. There were very few things that he enjoyed about his life, one of which was his pet catfish named Gif.

One day, I am not quite sure what time of day or what day it was but, it was indeed a day, a woman arrived at the edge of Pond Lake Loch. Drawn in by the sparkling cool look of the unusually hot water, she kneeled beside the pond and drank. After taking her liberties with the pond, she settled down on the bank to have a small nap, the warm water churning in her gut. As she slept, the not-so-creepy Pete rose from the depths of his pond and approached the shore. He hadn't seen a human in decades so, he decided that he would take a closer look.

Upon further inspection, he decided, this one was no good to him. Her nose was bent slightly to the right, he chest was flat, and her beard was far too long for his comfort. Her hair was short and only covered the sides and back of her head while the top was shiny and far more reflective than his water. She simply would not do for a lover or even a snack, for the amount of hair protruding out of her shit collar was sickening at best. Keith reached out and carefully plucked a hair dangling from the woman's right nostril, causing her to stir suddenly and release a rather deep and booming yelp.

The woman sat up so quickly that Keith's finger got caught in her shirt and ripped it free, exposing her round, hair-covered belly. It took only a moment of looking for the woman to scream in terror. She rose from her place in the grass and ran away, screaming at the top of her lungs, "Ahh! A water horse! Help! Help!"

At this Keith cocked his head and pulled himself ashore to chase after the rather manly-looking woman. "My name is Keith! Miss! Madam! I am not water horse! MY NAME IS KEITH!" He galloped after her, his hooves clacking against the gravel as he did. The chase continued into a nearby city where, upon entering, Keith was met with the strongest of greetings.

People emerged from their homes, keeping their doors firmly in front of their bodies like shields, throwing pottery at him. Keith turned and caught a bowl, then a plate, then a cup, but was quickly overtaken by the immense generosity and began to drop the dishes. With each dish thrown and caught, he quickly sputtered out a thank you while attempting to follow the woman still. Her hair flowed in the air as she sprinted away, still informing them all the entirely wrong name. Water horse?

As he galloped deeper into the little city, people began to repeat the incorrect name at him as they threw the dishes. He continued, catching what he could, throwing out haphazardly "Thank yous" and dodging the dishes he couldn't catch.

"WATERHORSE!"

"Thank you, it's Keith!"

"Waterhorse!"

"No! It's Keith!"

"Water..."

"Thank....ah...you....Keith!"

"Ahhh!"

"Waterhorse! No! I mean Keith!"

Keith continued, starting to get confused as to what his real name was. Halfway through the city, he began to feel a bit tired, the fun of this chase turning to annoyance and anger with each step. Why wouldn't they listen to him? He decided to give the chase five more minutes or until he caught himself a nice big bowl that he could use for his salads.

He turned a corner and began to run towards the center of town, the very strange and ugly woman still screaming at the top of her very gruff-sounding lungs. As they ran, he noticed peculiar and very smelly lumps lining the road. Forgetting that he was in pursuit of a complete liar, he approached the fuzzy lumps and gave them a gander. To his shock, they were dead bulls. Malnourished, it was truly obvious that they had been resigned to a life of solitude. Their eyes lay open and filled with madness and rage.

Appalled, Keith stopped in his tracks completely and looked around him. A bowl smashed into his forehead and fell to the ground in pieces. "That is it! You people are neglectful toward animals and completely rude when being told a person's name! You are all big meanie heads and I want to be rid of you!"

With that, Keith took a breath and shook himself, his fur gradually turning to feathers, his feet became ever so slightly webbed and his horse face turned into a longer and much brighter beak. He flapped his wings with irritation before stamping his new bird legs in the dirt. With a great groan of irritation and disappointment, he began to flap his wings, taking to the skies. As his feathered rear slowly shrank into nothingness, one solitary ramekin followed, smacking him in the side and pushing him off course.

A triumphant roar of cheering and happiness echoed through the skies that day. "Hoorah! We have defeated the water horse!"

It is said that to this day if you stand on the banks of Pond Lake Loch and shout the joy of the city having banished the water horse, you will still hear an answering cry of, "MY NAME IS KEITH!"