The Talking Horses

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A man burst into a roadside pub, looking pale and shaky, immediately asking for a large brandy. The bartender, noticing his distress, couldn’t help but ask what had happened.

“Well,” the man began, “I was driving along, minding my own business, when suddenly my BMW just gave out on me. I pulled over into the layby right up the road, popped the hood, but I haven’t got the faintest clue how modern cars work! Just as I was about to call for roadside assistance, I noticed two horses standing by the fence, staring at my engine. Then, unbelievably, one of them spoke! As clear as day!”

“Really?” asked the bartender, intrigued. “And what did this horse say?”

“Well, here’s the wild part—it told me to press down on a particular piece of plastic until I heard a click. I did exactly what it said, and would you believe it, the car started right up after that!”

The bartender gave a knowing nod. “I see. And what color was this horse?”

“Color? Who cares about the color? The horse talked to me! But now that you mention it, it was a brown horse.”

“Just as I thought,” the bartender said, continuing to polish some glasses.

The man looked even more bewildered. “What do you mean, ‘just as I thought?’ I’m telling you, this horse actually spoke!”

“Yeah,” the bartender replied, unfazed. “Figured it was her. The white horse doesn’t know a thing about BMWs!”