Galloping Gertiss!A Story by Michael StevensA cartoon horse walks into a bar, and... Look, I don't give a rip for your excuses--here's an idea, try
doing your fricking job!" screamed the one-time huge cartoon star,
Galloping Gertiss Gaulawanger.
"Look, I've called everyone. Nobody wants to hire an animated
horse. They think of you as the past. They say, "Yeah, he was once up
there among the elites, but the kids who liked him have grown up, and their
kids are much more interested in social media than an old cartoon talking horse."
"Oh,
they said that, did they? I'll show them ol--whoa, s**t!" shouted Gertiss,
as he staggered after tripping over the rug. His malt liquor slipped out of his
hoof and went sailing to the floor, where it foamed out into the carpet.
"S**t!" he yelled, and immediately headed back to the
refrigerator to grab another.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" asked his manager, Dave
Walters.
He
stopped, and whirled to face Walters, "No, I don't--who are you to ask me
a stupid question like that? You're nothing but an agent who does nothing! You can't even find work for
the greatest cartoon horse this side of the Pecos! You're a loser piss
ant!"
"What
side of the Pecos is that? The side where washed-up pecker cartoon horses spew
bullshit, and blame everybody around them for their being a dick-horse?"
"You're fired--get out!" Gertiss screamed, and as he pointed
to the door, his cloven hoof slipped off the beer he was attempting to hold,
and beer arced it's way from his hand to the floor, where it landed with a
sharp 'thud', and foam spilled out and soaked into the carpet. "Double
s**t! See what you made me do?" he shouted at Walters.
"What, I suppose you're going to blame me for not being drawn with
opposable thumbs?"
"Get
out, you smart-a*s scumbag!"
******
After
Walters left, Gertiss was in a rage. "I've got your 'I can't find work for
an animated horse' right here!" and he tried to grab his crotch, but he
must have been drunker than he thought, because he landed quite a heavy blow on
his horse meat. His face turned white, at least underneath his cartoon fur, and
he staggered back and flopped unceremoniously on the couch, where he alternated
whimpering in pain, and shouting up a blue streak. After a few minutes, the
pain in his nether regions began to ease somewhat. Grumbling, he gingerly got
up and slowly, carefully, walked into the kitchen of his customized horse
trailer, which the studio had bought for him when he was riding high, and went
to finally grab another beer out of the half rack. His searching hoof found
nothing--the half rack was empty. "Damn!" he swore bitterly. Now
what?
First
thing to do was to call Ken Dollup, the head of programming for his old
network, and see if they might be interested in him for a reduced rate. He
hated to admit it to himself, but maybe the problem was his high fee. Maybe if
he agreed to work for a bit less? The phone rang three times, and then
"Gigantic Studios, this is Bambi, how can I help you?"
"Hi,
Bambi, this is Gertiss, is Mr. Dollup in?"
"Oh,
it's you," she spit into the receiver, "I'm under strict orders that
if you were to call, I'm to do this!" and suddenly he was listening to a
dial tone--she had hung up.
"Mother
fuc--" and before he finished the curse word, he slammed the receiver
down, but that apparently failed to satisfy his blinding rage, because before
he had time to think about it, he hurled the phone right towards his
specially-installed picture window, which promptly exploded, and shattered
glass, along with the hapless phone, flew out into the grass. And, because
in was the middle of February, it allowed the freezing sleet-filled air to hit
him with an arctic blast.
"Sheet-o-dear!" he screamed, and looked bleakly out into his
yard, that was now covered with broken glass. As frozen rain, in the form of
ice pellets, stung his face, he hopelessly screamed at the sky, "Now
what?"
© 2016 Michael Stevens |
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1 Review Added on March 28, 2016 Last Updated on March 29, 2016 Tags: Cartoon, bastard-horse! AuthorMichael StevensAboutI write for fun; I write comedy pieces and some dramatic stuff. I have no formal writing education, and I have a fear of being told I suck, and maybe I should give up on writing, and get a job makin.. more..Writing
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