That’s Terrible

Enid stood at the fence rail considering her new horse. The mare looked pretty good for having just shipped down from New Hampshire to Georgia. Robert, her favorite uncle, had sent the little pinto for Enid to compete in Combined Driving. She was thinking about a way to say thank you.

Her uncle had always wanted to compete a mini. One of the foremost mini breeders lived one county over. She didn’t have time go in person. However, the farm had solid reputation and a website. She could order online.

Inside, she fired up her computer. She picked out an adorable, little, grey gelding with a bushy black mane and Bambi eyes. She entered her card number. Immediately, the Internet police broke down her front door and arrested her.

She should have known. You never book a gift horse in the South.

After a night in jail and bail, Enid returned home. Traumatized, she decided to forget her troubles by testing out her new horse. She found harness that would fit. She sorted out the straps and buckles. With the help of a neighbor, Enid attached the horse to the cart. Immediately, the tack police zoomed up her driveway and arrested her.

She should have known. You never hook a gift horse in the South.

Ba-dum-bum-CHING.
~~~
Why?

Terrible Minds, a blog by Chuck Wendig, had a writing challenge: Flash Fiction Challenge: Behold the Idiomatic. The idea was to write a story based on suggestions from Idiomatic, a page that generates idiom mash-ups, i.e. Hindsight makes perfect. I couldn’t come up with a 1,000 word story, but it got me thinking about idioms.

Years ago, I read an article in a Sunday Magazine – I want to say the Washington Post – that had an entire page of riffs on the song line, ‘Pardon my boy, is that the Chattanooga Choo Choo?’ The one I recall is, ‘Pardon me Roy, is that the cat who chewed on your shoe?’ The Internet has this one, but neither my Google-fu nor my memory have been able to dig up the rest. You get the idea. Clearly, this had a permanent and damaging impact on my psyche.

Idioms + parody + blank space for Saturday’s post = what you see here. Hey, be glad I stopped before “cook”.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

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