The “Foals” interpretation of Pen Stroke’s excellent fic There’s a Zebra in the Bed to which he deserves full credit.
All day I’ve been plagued by poetry, vexed by verse, perplexed by prose and slugged by sonets. I’m taking it out on you. Hey, don’t blame me, whatever Pen Stroke did forced me to write this.
Children’s literature, written in verse.
Update: Now with an excellent narration by Bad Horse with the most amazing peacock I have ever heard.
There’s a Zebra in my Bed - Narrated by Bad Horse
Enjoy.
There’s a Zebra in my Bed!
(Foals Bedtime Version)
It was late in the evening, quite close to ten
as the farmer came home from her fields, and then
went up to her bed as she did every night
but stopped in amazement as she saw quite a sight
“There’s a zebra in my bed!” she said with a stare
“Just sitting there, coughing. With black and white hair.”
“Don’t move her!” the farmer’s little sister did shout
“She’s quite sick, its just a few days. We can’t throw her out!
At her home there are none, to care for her cold
She’s alone, with no friends, and really quite old.”
The words of her sister, the kind little tot
Made the farmer realize, the zebra was not
In any condition, to stay in her own house
So she slept on the sofa, with a very small grouse
“I suppose I can handle it, for just one night or two
It’s not a nice thing, to be sick with the flu
All hacking and coughing, with phlegm and great sneezes
The blowing and snorting, not counting the wheezes
She can stay for a while, ‘til the cold leaves her nose
but just a few days, and then back home she goes!”
The farmer arose the next morning, all stiff, gruff and sore
The sofa had lumps, but it sure beat the floor
The rest of the family went to jobs, school and work
leaving the farmer alone, but her job she did not shirk
“There’s a farm that needs run, with animals to feed
but I know a sick zebra, is a much greater need.”
The farmer nursed that sick zebra with tissues, soup and seeds
And left a peacock to call her, if she had unmet needs
So she went out to her work, harvesting apple trees tall
keeping an ear out behind her, for the peacock’s loud call
“Yyyeeeaaawwwww!!” sounded the peacock, in a voice very piercing
Each time brought the farmer, to tend to her nursing
Tissues and medicine, pills and much juice
For coughing and wheezing, the cold given abuse
Liniment and ointments, ice cubes and warm soup
Gave relief to the poor zebra, and her terrible croup
For three days the cold ran, as the farmer grew pained
Until the third day, when it lifted, and the zebra exclaimed.
“I’m well!” she called out. “I’m healthy, not ill.
And I owe it all to you, who gave me each pill
My gratitude is unending, for my health you did save
If not for your work, my life would be grave.”
“Wern’t nuttin,” said the farmer, with broad happy grin
“If you get sick again, just come right on in.
We’re happy to see you, all healthy and strong
It wasn’t a bother, it didn’t seem long
A friend helps without hesitation, reluctance or delay
You helped me to realize, what I forgot on that day.”
With a hug and great thanks, the zebra departed
Leaving farmer and family, only somewhat downhearted
“Finally!” said the farmer, as in her own bed she did settle
“Taking care of a sick zebra can sure test your mettle.”
She rose the next morning, and what did she do?
But double right over with a mighty “Ker-CHOOOOO!”
Well for the next three days, their roles were reversed
The farmer laid sick, while the zebra she nursed
She nursed that sick farmer with tissues, soup and seeds
And left a peacock to call her, if she had unmet needs
There’s a lesson to be learned in this story, it’s true
Be kind to all others, and they’ll be kind to you.
That was wonderful.
Very impressive.
1741484 Tis true, it’s said, as many have writ, a zebra is hard to do
But with some time, and little rhyme, you can do it too
1830926 Yes, the Night Pegasi children’s stories are *supposed* to be edgy and slanted anti-Celestia. They’re side stories from “Genealogy”, where the Night Pegasi are descended from the only survivors of the original Nightmare Night, who were all no more than 8-10 years old when their parents were transformed, and then killed during Nightmare’s battle with Celestia. With that traumatic beginning, and over a thousand years of service to the throne for the Night Pegasi, a lot of warped traditions show up. Then when Luna returns, there’s going to have to be a *lot* of editing on these old stories before anypony would feel comfortable having her read them.
By Tradition, Fairy Tales are bloody and filled with gore: Hansel and Gretel push the witch into her oven, the woodsman chops open the wolf to rescue grandma, the Princes who go to rescue Sleeping Beauty all die, the girl in the red shoes dances until she expires. This is the 200th anniversary of Grimm’s Fairy Tales (according to Google), if you wrote and published that kind of stuff today for our little crumb-crunchers, there would be protests outside your house and lawsuits. (And I let the little spoiled princess stay in the castle because otherwise it’s just being mean. The poor little thing. Maybe she’ll learn to be a good little princess and eat her alfalfa.)
The Zebra in the Bed story is just here because I didn’t have a good spot to put it, and it’s real children’s literature. I’d do a reading of it for youtube if I didn’t have a voice like an angry frog.
*Grins and applauds* Excellent work! The original is a treat and this version is even better. Especially with Bad Horse's amazing reading. *swoons*