Bandit and Barbaro

Pandaholic wrote:
Where have you been? We miss you!

Bandit is a lazy panda?

Uh, yeah sorry about that. I haven't forgotten about my peeps, but I have been kind of a clownmunch for deserting you for so long.

Let's see, what's happening in the world. I hit 50 pounds...but that's kind of boring. What else?

OH! How could I forget? Friday night, some van pulled up to the Panda House and Mom went running up the ramp. I was like hold the phone! You can't just take my mom somewhere and expect me to let her go without a squeak. So I bounded up after her.

She was all annoyed and told me I was going to cramp her style. I told that bitch to shut up.

We rode in the van, like, forever. It was super boring. They transfered us to this tiny golf cart/van thing, and when we stopped, a guy pulled open the door and I about knocked him over trying to get out into the light. It was morning, and Mom and I were in some kind of room with views of a racetrack on three sides. I climbed up to peer over the railing and saw loads of people everywhere.

"This is bogus," I told Mom, but she was all, I didn't ask you to come along. Whatever. She already had salt poured on the back of her paw. Tequila shots at 10:00 in the morning--that's my mother.

Apparently we had box seats because the drunken people at this thing wouldn't be able to handle seeing pandas loose in the crowd. I think that's discrimination. I didn't do anything wrong.

Well...I hadn't done anything wrong yet.

But hey, I figured if they're going to confine me I'd better give them a reason. (I looked back and saw Mom sucking on a lemon. She has some weird drinking rituals.) I blew the scene. I'd heard that horse Barbaro was pretty badass, so I wanted to see him and wish him good luck.

It's funny, as I was barreling down the ramps to the stables, people moved out of my way. Some of them were like "AHHH!!" but I heard some others be like "What's Butterstick doing here?" Clownmunches, but I didn't have time for them. One of you must have been there too, because I heard someone shouting "Go Bandit!" in the distance. Rep-re-SENT!.

I made it to the stables, and the horses didn't like me too much. They made an annoying ruckus until I told them to stuff it and tell me where to find Barbaro. I got my way real fast after that.

Barbaro was lounging in his stall with a cuban in his mouth and a brandy snifter on the ledge. He was like, "Who are you?" and I was like "Bandit" and he was like "Badass." I don't smoke, but he had some killer Pop Rock flavors so I had those instead. We kicked it for a few hours like that.

I asked him what the deal was today.

"Just another race. The humans are all wound up about it."

"You don't care? But I heard you're a badass horse."

"I am." He blew a smoke ring. "I'm just not in the mood today. It's been forever since I got laid."

I pretended like I knew what he was talking about. "So fake an injury or something."

He moved his cigar to the side of his mouth. "You might be onto something, Little B."

"You know I am. Well, I gotta split. Good luck, Big B."

They arrested me shortly after that and threw me back in the box with Mom, but she was too blitzed to lecture me. She was wearing a hat too wide for her head and had painted her claws red. 'Nuff said.

Anyway, to round it up, I heard today that Barbaro got his wish. Except he's so badass, he didn't fake an injury--he did it up real. Broke his leg in three places! I can only dream of growing up to be like him.

Now, he's livin it up in the Large Animal hospital, gettin' frisky with the mares.

Here's to you, Barbaro. Get well soon.