Handy looked up from his coffee and book. He was now looking at a surprisingly big unicorn. White fur, golden blonde mane immaculately trimmed and styled, one of those stupid faux jacket collars ponies wore around their necks instead of, you know, actual jackets. “Can I be of service, good sir?” Handy asked, polite as he was able. The pony somehow managed to look down at him even though, seated as Handy was, they were eye level.