"Where’d all the donkeys come from?" asked Jiminy himself in confusion. Little did he know, he would soon be getting an answer.
The donkey that had been the girl named Paola skidded to a stop in front of the Coachman‘s boots.
As Paola looked up at the Coachman with a terrified expression on her face, the Coachman looked her up and down, noting the light blue sailor's dress and the Grosgrain-trimmed hat she still wore despite her new donkey body.
"And what's your name?" the Coachman asked as he leaned in closer with a cruel smile on his wicked face, sadistically enjoying the pain and anguish his simple question was causing the distressed little brown jenny in front of him.
Paola's eyes lowered pitifully and she lowered her head in shame. Paola was fully aware of what the Coachman was asking of her and she tried as hard as she could to answer back.
"HAAAAWW HEE!" she brayed sadly, having lost her human voice completely.
"Ha ha ha! Splendid work, my little lady! You bray so naturally" the Coachman laughed.
Before the terrified little donkey could back away, the Coachman painfully grabbed Paola by her long donkey ears and ripped her dress clean off her back much to the poor jenny’s surprise. At that moment there was a humiliated little donkey wearing a white camisole with attached calf-length drawers. There was a hole in the back of the drawers where her tail came out and moved from side to side.
As the Coachman had done before, he ripped off what was left of her clothes to leave her with nothing to cover her, cruelly throwing her dress and undergarment over a pile of ripped and discarded clothes.
"Donkeys don't wear clothes," the Coachman yelled as he gave Paola a swift boot in her rear with enough force to knock both Paola's hat off her head and her shoes and socks from her hooves.
Paola gritted her teeth and she let out a cry of pain as she slid into a waiting wooden crate which was already occupied by another unfortunate donkey.
As Paola slid to a stop, the crate slammed shut, trapping both her and the other donkey inside.
With a sad look in her eyes and an equally sad frown on her face, Paola nudged her head out through one of the gaps in between the crate's slats.
She could make out other donkeys, their heads lowered in sadness and shame, in crates beside her staring right back at her. The Crates all had a wooden sign that read: “SOLD” nailed to them.
The crate closest to her had a sign that read: "SOLD TO THE SALT MINE" followed by another sign that read: “CONTAINS TWO JACKS”, which indicated that there were two male donkeys inside.
Another crate of donkeys bore the signs: “SOLD TO CIRCUS” and “CONTAINS ONE JACK AND ONE JENNY”, while another one had signs reading: “SOLD TO GRAIN MILL” and “CONTAINS ONE JACK”.
"You kids will bring a nice price!" the Coachman chuckled evilly.
Paola immediately looked up and her eyes widened in alarm as she saw that her own crate bore signs marked: "SOLD TO FARM" and “CONTAINS TWO JENNIES”.
Paola’s donkey ears drooped down and she lowered her head sadly, now completely aware of what her fate was to be. Tears trickled down her muzzle as she thought of a life of hard labor that was ahead, one that would last for the rest of her days.
"Alright, next!" the Coachman shouted to his minions.
A new donkey skidded towards him. It was the donkey that wore a red pinafore dress. She also wore a beret and a white cotton peasant blouse under the dress.
She looked up to the Coachman's gaze with both fear and uncertainty in her eyes as the Coachman leaned in towards her.
"And what might your name be?" the Coachman asked her.
"Nicole," the donkey replied in a very sad voice as her black tasseled donkey tail swayed back and forth in a sad motion.
She looked around nervously at the donkeys already in crates and the other donkeys like her that were waiting to be processed.
Only just moments ago she had witnessed her friend Paola be stripped of her clothes and put into a crate that had been presold to a farm.
From across the room Nicole could see both Paola and the other donkeys sadly staring back at her, waiting for her to join them in the crates. Paola wondered and worried where her friend Nicole would end up.
It was hard to tell as almost all of the donkeys, once they were stripped of their clothing, looked almost identical to one another. There were some slight differences between all of them, but not much to differentiate one from the other.
Both they and Nicole had brown fur all over their donkey bodies. They had a patch of fur that was tan colored and extended from in between their front two legs to their bellies and finally in between their back legs to under the base of their long, black tasseled donkey tails.
Their muzzles were tan and they each had a ringed patch of darkish pink fur around their eyes. They each had a black, spiky mane of hair that ran down the top of their heads and down to the tip of their necks.
As Paola and the other donkeys in crates beside her continued to stare on in both fear and despair over their horrible fates, Nicole couldn’t help but wonder which crate she would be put in.
"So you can talk?" the Coachman retorted.
Nicole once more looked up to him, her eyes full of fear. "Y-yes sir," she stammered.
Then with tears forming in her eyes Nicole cried out, "I WANNA GO HOME TO MY MAMA!"
The Coachman's hands clinched into fists and an angry scowl formed across his face. "So you do, eh?" he said with a snarl.
Like Paola before her, the Coachman painfully grabbed Nicole by her ears and her tail and flung her across the room.
"TAKE HER BACK! SHE CAN STILL TALK!" the Coachman shouted.
Nicole landed on the ground and slid across the floor through a short wooden gate and into a pen with other clothed donkeys. One of the Coachman's minions silently slammed the gate shut.
Nicole quickly rose up on her hooves, turned to face the Coachman and held up her right fore hoof in a begging stance.
"No, please!" Nicole sobbed. "Don't let me be a donkey! I'm a girl! I can't be a donkey!" she begged. "LET ME OUTTA HERE!"
The other donkeys crowded around her and inspired by Nicole’s desperate pleas, began to beg for their freedom too.
"Please I don’t wanna be a donkey! Don‘t send me away! " cried one donkey that wore a dark blue bow tie with a white collar and a matching dark blue bowler hat.
"Give me another chance! I've learned my lesson! I promise I'll be a good girl!" said another donkey who only wore a white camisole and a white petticoat with a hole in the back that was made when her tail sprouted.
The Coachman marched menacingly towards the pen of talking donkeys. He then raised his arm and cracked his whip as a warning to them.
The donkeys’ long ears and tails raised high up into the air as they cringed in terror at the threat of violence that was being made to them.
"QUIET" the Coachman shouted angrily.
Nicole and the other talking donkeys, horrified of further incurring the Coachman’s rage, fell back down to the floor upon each other, their donkey ears drooping to the sides of their frightened faces.
The Coachman sneered, "You kids have had your fun. Now pay for it!"
The talking donkeys quickly dispersed as the Coachman marched off to continue processing the other donkeys. Nicole fell to the ground and lowered her head, her front hooves coming up to her muzzle as tears streamed down from her eyes.