Well, for the time being at least—he needed the money. It all started the day after the night of the first party, first as in the first of several. Apparently, the ponies had had so much fun that they decided to give that shit sequels. He had woken up to find he had been locked in. It seemed several ponies had decided to use the shed as the ‘end goal’ of some kind of game that was halfway between rugby and handball. He was not sure since the description Joachim had given him was rather vague. By the end of it, it had resulted in a rather distressingly large pile of colourful stallions and mares passed out drunk with an equally mad assortment of balls of all shapes and sizes all stacked against his door.