Show Pony @ the fab4/@ korse
âI wrote a haiku: âFuck you and fuck you. / Fuck all of you damn bastards. / Youâre pieces of shit.ââ
The joys crammed shoulder to shoulder in the bar hooted and booed as Jet hopped off the little elevated stage in the corner, grinning good-naturedly. Chimp followed suit and scanned the rowdy audience appraisingly before tossing her mic to Poison, triggering an eager ruckus from the crowd. âNext up. Whoâs the other lucky roaster, Jet?â
âRoaster, or roastee?â Jet said. âGuess weâll see, eh Pony?â He handed off his mic to them, setting off another round of excited whoops and hollers.
Poison and Pony took the stage and faced off â overly nonchalant, of course. It was just part of the game.
Pony grinned. âPrepared for total annihilation, Firetruck?â
âI was about to ask you the same thing, Skaterboi,â Poison said. âFlip it, Chimp. Heads.â
Chimp flicked her coin into the air and slapped it onto her fist. âHeads.â
The crowd noise fell to a hush as Poison nodded. He looked out past the crowd for a few moments, tapping a finger thoughtfully to his jaw.
The anticipation in the air tightened. Poison was a formidable public speaker, and a ruthless opponent.
Then he grinned, took a dramatic inhale, and said rapidly all in one breath in his best rapper imitation:
âPony Express? More like ya want free press â
what an attention whore,
itâs the truth and if ya donât like it, thereâs the door â
think youâre such a snack, youâre meals on wheels
but donât get cocky, no oneâs head over heels
Donât get your polka dot panties in a bunch
just because no one wants to have you for lunch.â
Pony clapped a hand to their chest, pretending to be offended as a chorus of delighted âOOOOOHâs went up from the audience. They gave the crowd a dirty look and mockingly waved them up, encouraging them to continue the barrage.
Grinning, Poison stepped back, one eyebrow raised at Pony like, Beat that.
Pony snuck his nose in the air, ignoring him, and glided in one smooth motion to center stage. They lifted their mic.
âWell tonight, my good sir, I shall respond in haiku form," he said loftily, and declaimed with a painted nail pointed sassily at each subject in turn:
"Fuck you and fuck you. Fuck all of you damn bastards. Youâre pieces of shit.
THANKYOUANDGOODNIGHT!â
Pony dropped the mic and the crowd erupted.
Poison doubled over laughing and accepted defeat, giving Pony a dramatically humble bow.
Roast nights were the best.















