a thinly-veiled commentary on transgender fatigue
The gates flew open and the sound of hoofs on dirt was deafening. The clanging of metal doors being thrown open and the roar of the crowd was exhilarating. Nine magnificent animals bursting out onto the track in a cloud of dust and quickly accelerating to upwards of fifty miles an hour.
Well, eight of them anyway. The ninth was Gregory T. Stallion. Gregory identified as a horse. On his shoulders sat a mortified jockey.
Some twenty-six seconds later, the other horses all crossed the finish line. Some two and half minutes later, despite the frantic whipping of his jockey, Gregory finally made it across.
In a basement in Brooklyn, Carl Shamo had better luck. Carl identified as a chicken and spent three months making the rounds on the underground cockfighting circuit.
He remained undefeated.
Meanwhile, on the grounds of the Iowa State Fair, despite a large number of attendees, nobody tried to throw small rings onto the top of milk bottles. The carny in charge of the stall sat absentmindedly reading a magazine. He knew nobody wanted to spend two dollars for five attempts. They’d be too worried they’d actually win.
Behind him, floating in an enormous glass tank, was Cam Ranchu. He identified as a goldfish and recently won his court battle to allow him to be a prize at the ring toss booth. He was, of course, like all of the other goldfish on the nearby shelves, completely nude.
Recently, a camera crew from the local TV station asked the carny how he fed Cam. “At the end of the day, I throw in a few hot dogs, churros, and a handful of nacho chips.”
“Do you have to watch out how much you feed him?” asked the intrepid reporter.
“No,” answered the carnival worker.
“But isn’t it true that goldfish will eat until they die?”
“Yes,” replied the worker, “But he’s not a goldfish. He’s a crazy person.”
As they spoke, a woman and her small child walked past the tank. “Look mommy!” exclaimed the child, tugging at her mother’s hand. “That naked man is swimming in his own poop!”
The mother took a look and debated whether to say “That poor man” or “That’s disgusting,” but decided to stay silent on the topic and instead pulled her daughter away from the booth.
Like you would do.
Like you’re going to do.