Port-A-Pony

I approached a blue port-a-potty.  Apparently the vacancy sign didn’t take the horse into account.  Ordinarily I wouldn’t go near one of these, but this was an emergency.  I pulled open the door of the handicapped stall�"they were always cleaner and larger�"with my thumb and index finger only, bracing myself for the smell.

And there it was, sprawled out in the small container with its head down the pathetic excuse for a toilet. 

            “Sorry�"“ I stammered, before realizing I was face-to-face with a pony’s a*s.  “You should consider locking the door next time,” I laughed.  The horse whipped its wet tail, leaving a cold swipe across my t-shirt.  I tapped its rear end, to which the horse kicked me in the gut.  I grabbed its hind leg, which was probably my biggest mistake.  The large mammal’s body thrashed around the small plastic cubicle, but its head remained stuck in the hole.  We began to rock back and forth so I pressed myself against one of the walls adjacent to the door, which was swinging wildly.  Hooves crushed my soaked toes, and I curled to the unsteady floor screaming and with tears in my eyes.  Gargled yowls came from the mouth of the misplaced beast as I began to lose my sense of direction. 

The door had finally jammed shut after about a minute or two of the chaos.  I tried to push open the door with my side, but it was no use.  I was locked in a waterlogged port-a-potty with a pony.

“Well, look what you’ve gotten us into.”  I looked at the horse, whose head was somehow still jammed in the pee-hole.  I wrapped my arms around its neck and yanked backwards, falling to the ground.  I stumble forward just in time for it to shake its hair dry and sprinkle me with murky water and horse spit.  The horse couldn’t quite stand up straight with the unit on its side so its bent legs rested on either side of me.  I plopped down and looked at the graffiti covered walls. 

“Hello?” I called.  The horse reared back.  “Not you.”  I push against what was once the base of the stall but nothing changed except I was back by this damn horse-butt over here.  “Work with me you stupid horse!”  I slumped down, closing my eyes.

I woke up cuddling with a pony.  It must have only been an hour or two, but I was starting to get hungry. It felt like someone was trying to flip us right side up again, but the damn horse was too heavy.   But now I could hear sounds outside�"police sirens.  I don’t think an overturned toilet is something the cops need to investigate, but nevertheless they got closer to the stall.  I banged on the walls.  We began to tip again, this time on the long side.  I slid across the ground to the new base.  The door was now facing outwards.  I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.  I kicked at the door until it opened, and the horse ran out into the streets.