• Published 3rd Apr 2014
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The Purloined Pony - Chris

When a young foal goes missing, it's up to Carrot Top to step in and save the day.

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Page 86

You smile. There’s a reason you chose to challenge the Ceanntighern to a game of riddles: your grandmother was a great fan of the riddle game, and she taught you the ultimate riddle, to which there can be no answer:

“What isn’t the answer to this riddle?”

The Ceanntighern boggles at the twisted logic of that question. He opens and closes his mouth several times, but nothing comes out. Finally, he squeaks, “That... that wasn’t in verse! It doesn’t count!”

“Pah!” cries Hinterheart. “If you wanted your riddles to rhyme, you should have said so. Don’t blame others for your weak and feeble wit!” Then turning to the other boggies gathered around you, he announces, “Boggies, hear me! By my hand the old Ceanntighern has been made a fool. I hereby claim the mantle of ruler for myself, and let any who think themselves clever enough to oppose me try if they dare!” He looks around expectantly.

At once, the guards who had previously surrounded you begin to chant his name. Soon, the other boggies are doing so as well, though whether they’re glad to be rid of the old ruler or simply fearful of the consequences of insufficient lauding of new one you’re unsure. A swarm of them seize the old Ceanntighern and rip from him his ornaments of office, presenting them to Hinterheart with great reverence. The old Ceanntighern, for his part, reluctantly slinks away into the shadows.

At length, Hinterheart takes a seat in the ugly purple throne, from which he addresses you. “Pony, you have served adequately. Therefore, I will permit you to leave. This is a great honor, be humbled.” You’re about to protest that he said he’d free Applebloom, but he continues, “On another note, I hereby decree that all useless baggage be disposed of before we break camp. I’ve no desire to haul valueless junk all the way home. Let us start by disposing of the foal; she is stupid and weak, and I have no doubt she’d make a poor slave.” He gives you a subtle wink. “Pony, as a final act of fealty to me before you are freed, I order you to take with you the foal, so that I need not bother disposing of her myself.”

You rush over to Applebloom, nuzzling her as you begin setting her free. “Don’t worry,” you reassure her, “We’re going home now. Everything’s going to be okay.”


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