Unicorn Fiiiiiiiiiiiight Day!

Apparently, the one unicorn stepped on the other unicorn's hoof. The second unicorn spun around and spilled a little bit of his beer on his pelt. He started yelling, "What the fuck is your problem? Look at what you made me do mother fucker. You get dizzy from suckin' so much dick all day?"

The first unicorn tried to apologize and offered to buy a round. But the second unicorn just kept talking about "respect" and "think 'cause I wasn't born from a waterfall?" and "spotted hooves." The first unicorn's friends (six black females in their 30's) were trying to intercede. They seemed to know the second unicorn. They were calling him "Walsh."

But "Walsh," the second unicorn, just kept his eyes on the first unicorn, who met the stare with a stony mouth and seemed to be growing impatient. It should be noted that Walsh's friends (an Asian couple) appeared to back away from him. He'd occasionally direct his comments to them at their table, looking for support, but they just tried to look down into their pint glasses.

Finally, the first unicorn spoke calmly and directly to Walsh. "Sir, I've apologized. I would be happy to buy you another drink. I want no trouble. However, if you insist on causing trouble, this won't end well for you. Please accept my apology."

This was all Walsh needed. He started shouting, "He's talkin' bout trouble. You heard that?" shouting at everyone in the bar. Walsh was clearly a regular there, based on the heads shaking left and right on both sides of the bartop. "You want some trouble then?" And that's when Walsh slapped horns with the first unicorn.

It was over before anyone had a chance to take a gasp. The first unicorn slapped his horn smack into Walsh's jowel. Walsh's head whipped left and the first unicorn bent low and smacked his horn flat up into Walsh's ribcage, drawing from Walsh's lungs a high-pitched whinny, the sound of the last breath he'd take for several minutes. The first unicorn sidestepped into Walsh, slamming him up against the jukebox with no effort at all. Walsh was paralyzed. The only thing holding him up was the weight of the first unicorn pressed up against his side. The first unicorn started demanding of Walsh in an enraged growl, "You gonna cool down baby? You gonna cool down?" It took a second for the first unicorn to realize he wasn't getting an answer because Walsh had no breath to carry his response. The first unicorn stepped away and let Walsh slide down to the floor. He stepped back and let the Asian couple help Walsh out the front door.

The mood in the bar afterwards was noticably more jovial. There was no applause or anything like that. But the first unicorn (I'm sorry, I didn't catch his name), he handled the situation, and even the brawl, with more grace than anyone could have expected. His fellow patrons were grateful and relieved. The fate of their Friday night had been placed in his hands, and he'd been sure to make it a good one.

Happy Unicorn Fiiiiiiiiiiiight Day!