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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Angry Horse


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Angry Horse

 

I am a fear you hide

I am the fire inside

 

I am a wicked wind

I can't lose

I can't win

 

I am a bruised bliss

Yet I am more than this

I am the earth shaking

I am giving

and I am taking away

 

I am a warrior's rage

I am the burning stage

 

I am a wicked wind

I can't lose

I can't win

 

I am a buried fist

Yet I am more than this

I am the bone breaking

I am giving

and I am taking away

 

I am an angry horse

Set me free

I am the matador

What do I do this for?

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Preprise glances up at the Office's Rolodex clock, curious as to what's taking the Elder of Initiates so long to arrive. The applicant's eyes flare up like an angry horse when he notices the hour, but his anger is put on hold as the Office window suddenly slams open, signaling the arrival of the Pen's resident Recruiter. Wyvern squeezes his way in through the opening with a bending wing and a shift of a tail, his short fall cushioned by a tall stack of unattended paperwork that rests adjacent to the window. A few of the loose pages of discarded schemes gust into Preprise's face as a light breeze flows in through the open window, and he brushes them away to rub his eyes in disbelief.

 

"You...?"

 

"Hiya Preppy, fancy seeing you here!" Wyvern slams the window shut and brushes a few stray leaves from his tunic, striking a grin full of razor sharp teeth. The lizard pulls at a twig tangled around one of his horns and approaches his Recruitment desk, snatching Preprise's poem from the top of the menacing piles. "Applying to the Pen are we? Hrmmm, lemme sssee here..."

 

Wyvern nods and scratches his chin as he reads over Preprise's application poem, dipping one of his claws in a half-dry inkwell that lays hidden in the mess of his desktop and scratching some notes on the page. The overgrown lizard licks his lips once he's finished, then sets the poem on a relatively visible spot on his desk and raps his claws down on the page.

 

"A fine poem, Preppy, but remember my advice on marketability." Wyvern snags the poem back back and steps up to Preprise, pointing at the final stanza. "Why ssset yourself for free when you could jussst as easily set a price on yourself? After all, I'm sure there're plenty o' rodeos out there that would pay a fair amount of geld for an angry horssse to challenge their top cowboys with. Ssspeaking of which..."

 

Wyvern turns back to the Recruitment desk for a moment and dives under it, tossing clawfuls of paperwork left and right along with used candy wrappers, broken appliances, and tattered smut mags. The reptilian Elder eventually reemerges with an ugly bright red vest clutched in one claw.

 

"If yer tired of not being able to win or lose in your matadoring, thisss Almost Dragonic Brand Bull-Proof Matador Vest™ is a sure-fire way to swing the bullfight one way or the other... probably the other." Wyvern holds up the vest, which looks more like a red jester suit than a matador uniform, complete with a neon red jester cap with glowing red bells. "Made outta 100% cotton, thisss vest is bound to make the bullfight 80% more interesting, or 20% of your money back. Only 85 geld!"

 

Wyvern turns to his desk for a moment and huddles over it as Preprise examines the vest, secretively stamping "Angry Horse" ACCEPTED. The overgrown lizard glances left and right, hides the poem sheet, then turns from his desk and whispers to Preprise.

 

"You oughta consssider this bargain well, Preppy... the state of yer application may depend on it."

 

;-p

 

OOC: An ACCEPTED application poem, Preprise. Welcome to the Mighty Pen. :-) I hope that you find the Pen a very open and friendly community to share your writing with, and that you treat it in an open and friendly manner in turn. I look forward to reading more of your works, as well as collaborating with you in more communal writing projects. Once again, welcome.

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Wyvern twists his snout as Preprise mentions the "b word," folding the application poem and passing it back in the new Initiate's direction.

 

"I'm afraid that a bath issss outta the question, my friend." Wyvern pulls his tattered agenda book out of one of his pockets as he speaks, twirling it with a claw. "Now, chocolate or booze pools are fair game, but water really doesssn't do it for me. If anyone expects me to bath in that ssstuff, I request Signe's presence to convince me with a bit of sponging!"

 

Wyvern raises his little black book and flips through it with one claw, causing a few of the overused pages to fall into the endless mess of discarded papers scattered over the floor. The flipping stops as one of his claws lands on a page detailing the transaction of a bottle of Almost Dragonic Brand Magma Elemental Mouthwash.™

 

"By the way Preppy, jussst throwing this out there, but my recordsss indicate that you owe me 50 geld for the purchase of a bottle of Almost Dragonic Brand Magma Elemental Mouthwash.™ If ya'd like, I could tossss in the Almost Dragonic Brand Bull-Proof Matador Vest™ and call it 150 geld?"

 

Preprise rolls his eyes and turns to leave the Office, only to pause for a moment as Wyvern races up to him and puts a scaly arm around his shoulder.

 

"Now Preppy, thisss is yer pal Lizzy speaking here. We're both business buddies at this point, so I just want ya to know that there is absolutely NO rush in paying that 50 geld." Wyvern breaks into the most gentle and innocent grin he can muster, which sort of resembles a hungry crocodile. "In fact, I prefer that you hang on to it for now... I'm putting a 100% interest rate on the sum until it's paid, meaning that you can take your leisure time in paying it and that I can make quintuple the amount that I would have otherwise received! It'sss beneficial for both parties... especially if you have money to burn."

 

With that, Wyvern strikes a claws up, pats Preprise on the back, and returns to his desk to look over some "important documents" from Naughty Nymph magazine.

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  • 2 years later...

Wyvern cocks his head up at Jason and drops the important game of geld-stacking solitaire he was playing, sweeping the limited pieces back towards his geld pouch as his snout twists in wrinkled disgust over the offer. The prospect of "Naughty Nymph: Newcomb Edition" certainly didn't seem to appeal to the skirt-chasing side of Wyvern's almost dragonic imagination, and the resolve in Jason's eyes didn't seem to comfort him any. Still, the lizard had to admit that Jason's appearance had quite improved from that of the young hooligan that had originally tossed insults around his Office... Gone were the wimpish looks and shrill vocal chidings, replaced by the chiseled chin and upright demeanor of a honed musician, an elegant bard that clearly had some future in fantasy modeling. Wyvern leans back in silence and taps a claw idly on his desktop, carefully considering how to work his way around Jason's sudden enthusiasm.

 

"Errr, thankssss for dropping by Jasssson. Alright, lemme see here."

 

Wyvern yanks open a drawer of his desk and begins tearing through the wild jumble of paperwork located within, pausing as he produces a terrifyingly long parchment.

 

"Ah yes, that 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,973,578,001 geld that you owe me, you've come to repay it at long lassst have you? I'm not sssure if Naughty Nymph modeling is quite going to cover it, I'm afraid." Wyvern shakes his head slightly, only to suddenly freeze as a twinkle flashes over his eyes. The overgrown lizard's snout slowly spreads its way into an extra-toothy grin, and he begins rubbing his claws together in a sinister fashion. "Although then again, perhapsss something could be arranged... Let me jussst get in touch with 'Naughty Nymph's chief editor and we'll see what we can do, alright?"

 

Wyvern flicks his forked tongue out in glee and moves his tail stinger through a stash of triple-X mags at his side, eventually producing a velvet telephone with only two dialing buttons on it, labeled "X" and "O." After punching in the appropriate number, Wyvern raises the phone under one of his horns and leans back in his seat as the sultry voice a handmaiden tells him to wait for only a second.

 

"Hello, Ssssigne dearest?" Wyvern bites his lower lip as he casts a quick glance over at Jason, then slowly hisses as he continues. "You're sssounding hot today. Hey, listen, I was wondering if you wanted to do a little personal business... see, I have this male model here, and he owes me a pretty big favor soooo..."

 

;-)

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