That chalk-white Shetland obviously tired of being sat on, paraded and photographed, lost it.
She spit out her bit and bucked her heavy saddle. She galloped behind the stage as the crowd rose to their feet. At first we thought ‘Wow, everyone really loves Moonsville’ but soon discovered that their dropped jaws and gasps were due to the rogue pony. We kept playing like the band on the Titanic and knew that at any point one of us could get back-sacked by that 300lbs. cracked out wanna-be stallion. The Country Club workers put themselves between the children and the beast hoping they could use their courage as leverage in future pay raise conversations. Everyone’s phones were raised and videoing. After several quick 10 yard dashes, the rogue pony stopped, spun and cranked its head vertically signalling surrender. Her mane swayed like a waved, white flag as she posed proud in the middle of the driving range. We finished our song as a calmness returned to the party. Everyone re-visited their meat and gravy and the rented, mechanical bull creaked on. The Shetland, already nicknamed “White Lightning”, was escorted off the grass and tied up to the metal fence which created the pen for the goat and pig petting zoo. She stood with her pony chin high knowing she reminded us all that even a short vacation feels good.