Why Kaie’s world? Because it’s Jeff and Bonty.

First and foremost, I can’t believe I did this but what’s done is done. The theme of this world is very very different from the theme of my world. So I had fun writing something quirky and out of the usual. Great way to release stress as well.

“Hello! My name is Booma. Will you help me get to the Inter-Galactic Horse Race?”” A voice introduces himself to a lone Huraffe on world #73. Said Huraffe had just wanted to water his vegetables, especially his carrots, in peace. He never expected his garden to be invaded by a horse with a handsome huraffe face; as handsome as Huraffe Frad Fitt.

“My name is Brawlahallahahalibaba.”  Because it was basic courtesy to introduce yourself back. ”But you can just call me George.” When George had performed the basic 101 of introducing themselves like any civilised Huraffe would, they can now proceed to be nosy and rude. “Why does a horse have a Huraffe face!?” George squawked. Had he accidentally drank a bottle of detergent again and went high?

Well, George here posed a very good question: Why did a horse have a Huraffe face? And as the screen zoomed out and beyond the fourth wall, we can see the Author, clutching her phone in her hand whilst looking at an image of a weird Japanese game application, perhaps involving a certain horse with a human head— She continues to stare at the screen with dead fish eyes, whispering to herself in agony. “Why did I chose to write about this.”

In conclusion, even the Author doesn’t know the answer and begins to ponder about poor life decisions.

But let us zoom back into the story before the hole in the fourth wall gets any bigger.

“What are you talking about? I am merely a horse.” Yes, Booma had the perfect equine form. Four hooved legs, with a swishing tail and a huraffe face– Booma tilts his head in question at an awkward angle. It couldn’t be helped that Huraffes had long necks that Booma had to bend his horse neck back just to look up at the other. Luckily, Booma has a specially evolved, flexible horse neck. Reasons why its neck hasn’t yet snapped into two.

George still thinks he’s high on detergent, but it doesn’t bother him that much anymore. George decides to be a kind and courteous Huraffe and invites his new companion to lunch.

Steamed carrots was served. Booma expressed his love for carrots and George’s excellent taste buds. George prefers using  knives, forks and plates. Booma prefers chopsticks and bowls. Both species were able to accept each other’s eating customs. They picked up their cutlery with ease, putting shame to any cutlery-holding-skilled homo-sapiens. Especially Booma. Who needs hands when you have hooves like these.

They conversed over lunch; how Booma was a racehorse that got lost on his way to the Inter-Galactic Horse Race on World #707; how George once accidentally set his washing machine on fire when it was suppose to be filled with water; how the sparkles that radiate from Booma’s handsome huraffe face was a natural phenomenon; how George think his neck is strong, manly and ready enough for a neck piercing, and so on and so forth.

When lunch was over and George was about to send Booma on his merry way to find the Inter-Galatical World Teleportation For Lost Race Horse or IGWTFLRH for short -apparently, racehorses do get lost a lot while traveling between worlds and conveniently, there was one here at world #73, a small spaceship whizzed down from the sky, towards the two figures standing in front of the house.

Inside the very said spaceship was another horse with a even equally handsome huraffe face. It was, Nyuuma! Booma’s rival racehorse! Nyuuma rolled down the windows of his spaceship, stuck his head out and began taunting Booma with a loud, horsey whine.

“NYEEEHAH! Booma, you fool! It was I, Nyuuma! Who crashed your spaceship and made you stranded here. Now, I shall eliminate you so that you’ll be late for the horserace and I can finally take first place once and for all and foreveEERRAAHHHHHH–”  Nyuuma had forgotten that they were on world #73 where Huraffes had loonnnnng necks. He had crashed his spaceship into George’s neck, resulting in it hurtling to the ground.

“Ouch.” cried George. It hurt like an ant bite. Wait. Now hold on. I know what you’re thinking. WHY DIDN’T GEORGE’S NECK SNAPPED INTO TWO-

Cue the Author, desperately pulling up google search, screenshoting evidence and shoving the pictures through the hole of the broken fourth wall.

Alas, (somewhat) biological proof:

But who is the Author kidding. We’re talking about Huraffes here. They get piercings on their neck for crying out loud.

“G-George! You’ve saved me from being totally blasted into oblivion and beyond!” Booma looks up at George with grateful, sparkly eyes, batting his eyelashes like some high school huraffe girl. George, meanwhile, was having difficulties trying to raise his long-but-not-as-long-as-his-neck-arms to reach the itch on his neck.

“Oh. Uh. No problem! I guess!” George was confused, though he felt somewhat heroic, even though he hasn’t have a clue what had just happened. Booma begins to drag the unconscious body of Nyuuma out from the still perfectly intact spaceship before chucking his nemesis into a nearby trashcan. Exactly where he belongs. Why not chuck the Author in as well–

As Booma was about to depart on his newly, sacked spaceship, he asks his newfound friend to do the customary friendship walk of departure between inter-galactic species. And so, their hooves/once-hooves-but-are-now-genetically-mutated-hands touched, hooves in hands, as two silhouettes walked off into the setting sun.

The walk didn’t last long as the spaceship was just a foot in front of them.

The end.

( I must have been high to wrote this. )