There once was a young Chicago libertarian named Curtis. One day Curtis went to visit the Wicked Witch of the South Side, whose name was Ayn.
Curtis asked the witch for stock tips, but instead she cursed him for a freeloader and cast a spell on him.
The witch’s spell turned Curtis into a pony, whose exact proportions were the same relative to other horses as his were to other people.
Curtis sadly wandered the land, looking for a place to slake his thirst, for he was very parched.
Eventually he came to a saloon and went inside. It was quite crowded and he had trouble getting the barkeep’s attention.
“What’ll it be?” asked the barkeep. Curtis the pony attempted to order but he could not be heard over the din.
“What’s that? Speak up!” Curtis tried again but the barman still couldn’t hear him.
Frustrated, the barkeep rang the bar’s bell and shouted “ quiet!!!” A hush fell over the crowded, lively saloon.
All eyes turned to Curtis Wenis, the irritating libertarian cursed to wander the world in equine form. “I’m sorry you can’t hear me” he whinnied. “I’m a little horse.”