As Jacques finished up, the pony walked off miserably, knees shaking. Handy just looked down at his feet. "Great," he said, now covered in even more stomach contents, the smell of bile threatening to conspire together with his own nusea and cause him to vacate his stomach as well. He turned away, hands on his sides as he sighed heavily. Looked like neither of them would be having dinner today. "Just great."