[Closed] This someone off here?

In response to a small news item about some escaped horses in the local paper.

Genius.

[i]
I would like to apologise for what has happened here. It all started off innocently enough and it has turned into a fiasco. I decided to arrange a family reunion for my Mighty Horse. As you may know, previous celebrations have been thwarted by the inabilities of local politicians to organise a team of tumbling clowns for my Mighty Horse's birthday party, and I was not prepared to take the risk this time. A number of his equine relatives were visiting from Spain, Mexico and Nicuragua, and I was keen that they would see some of the delights that Sussex has to offer. Initially the celebration went well, and my dear Mighty Horse mingled with his relatives in a genial manner, to the extent that I took a back seat and enjoyed a gin and tonic with my Peregrine Falcon.

That was my first mistake. I can only have been away for 20 minutes, but one of the visiting horses had produced a gigantic barrel of rum (I am still not sure from where), and was dispensing it liberally amongst all the horses at the party. I don't know if you have ever been in a marquee with a large quantity of tipsy horses, all rearing on their hind legs, attempting to sing, and talking over the top of each other. Personally I cannot distinguish two voices at the same time, let alone 20 horses all attempting to have different conversations, and so I felt that drastical measures had to be taken. Ordering my Peregrine Falcon to entertain the horses by gargling with an entire litre of milk (It really is quite a feat, and the horses were briefly transfixed), I ran to fetch my Suit of Startling Attire. This is constructed from over 300 pieces of brightly coloured rags and bits of string, and with this Alarming Garment on, I wheeled my Sturdy Gong into the Horse-Party-Arena, and struck it with great force.

Unfortunately, I realised that none of the foreign horses had ever seen my Suit of Startling Attire, and the sound of a multi-hued figure striking a gong instilled panic in the poor beasts. There was nothing I could do to prevent them drinking the rest of the rum and going on a madcap rampage around town. My poor ashamed Mighty Horse is nursing a hangover and wondering where his lost relatives have found themselves. He recieved a text from one of them claiming to be in Weatherspoons on North Street, but this seems to be a single horse who has become detatched from the main group. I urge any bartenders in Sussex to refrain from giving any further rum to marauding horses - as a man of some experience, I for one will now only ever deign to give shandy to my Mighty Horse's foreign relatives.

I am deeply sorry for any inconvenience this has caused, and can assure you I will think again before holding another wild horse-relative-drink
ing-party in a marquee, let along ringing my sturdy gong without sufficient warning.”
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