#keggy

Gragas reached over to Keggy, his rather portly pony, and offered a gentle pat behind his ears. "There ye go, Keggy. I love you.", Keggy nuzzled Gragas' hand and allowed a soft burst of hot air to flow from her nostrils in happiness. He reached for her reins and guided her forward. He never had to pull Keggy; she always followed him regardless of the situation.  The cart full of supplies jostled and bounced as it was pulled by the gold-maned little pony. Gragas smiled with glee, today couldn't get any better.

He was knocked to the ground by a large and loud explosion. When he regained his composition, he stumbled over to the cart. His blurry vision slowly began to clear and he sighed with relief - Keggy was okay. "Thank all that is good in the world! Keggy! You're alive!", he reached down and hugged the pony, unable to contain his happiness. The cart of supplies, however, wasn't so fortunate. It had become a little front-heavy; meaning that the back was completely missing.

Gragas didn't mind much, as long as Keggy was okay. He heard a groan from the front of the cart, and saw his old friend Grimfold raise his head. He then leapt out of the cart and raised his rifle, pointing it off into the distance and yelling at the top of his lungs, "WHO WERE THAT?!", Gragas rolled his eyes. "Calm down, Grimmy. It was just a stray." Grimfold spun around, and pointed the gun just to the right of Gragas. "NAME AND RANK! OR I'LL SHOOT YE FULL OF LEAD!". "Grimfold, don't start this again..."

---------------------------------------------------------------

The start of a little gift story I am writing for my good friend Jesse.

Stay tuned for more of the most questionable writing subjects in literature!