Hank felt angered by what his Devil-Familiar had done; making Hank to feeling horny like a common beast. He wanted more than ever to lash out, but any try to kick or injure the familiar would make a pony existence as tougher and rougher.
“Ha, ha, ha, so you like then feeling and being a stud male equine. You as a Fjord pony would make a fine breeding stud; you might let that body continue for a while, maybe for a year or decade,” the evil Familiar suggested to Hank.
If asked, it was likely that Hank might have agreed with his Familiar, and accepted a year or more of non-permanent equine lifestyle. Yet his sense of anger prevailed, causing Hank to thinking hard, considering his possible options.
One possibility stood prominent, and that being of how the devilish Familiar had transformed Hank with ease back to being again equine; it could easily damning, doom Hank to remain as permanently a Fjord stallion.
It happened about then while the Familiar made sport of Hank and his situation, that Hank had an sly thought.
As without having his hands, Hank stepped close to the kitchen stove, it a gas fired range. Using his strong equine lips and incisor front teeth, he turned each of the four burners of the range to full flame heat. This caused the Familiar to laughing all the more; he asking Hank if he were planning to cooking his grass grazed before swallowing it.
Hank then turned his attention toward the laid open Tome lying on the kitchen table.
Knowing that devils hated salt as could not walk past a ring of poured salt, their powers became near to nil. Although generally clumsy, and from his becoming a pony animal; Hank’s mind remained alert, and thought-worthy. As setting at the center of the kitchen table were some usual condiments used by his father when eating a meal. Four common items set on the table, they being pepper, salt, and salad oil with vinegar.
Hank stepped up onto a kitchen chair and using his thick pony lips, he grabbed and raised the decanter of olive oil. According to his plans, Hank tipped his head and allowed the olive oil to pour out, as cover over the two pages, he had read and used to become a donkey. Hank then let the empty olive oil decanter or bottle fall from his oral grasp, and by using his pony muzzle, he nose-rolled closed the Tome.
The salt-shaker was next, and Hank did an excellent job of seasoning the top cover of the Tome; while knowing the Familiar would not dare as try to touch it.
Next, and done with swiftness, Hank grabbed the Tome by the book’s spine, and lifting off the kitchen table, he walking, carried it to where then dropped it upon the four enflamed as burning stove burners.
“No,” screamed the devilish familiar, “Don’t, my Demonic Master will murder me; I came here as a familiar to keep watch over the Tome. As for you young Master, your body and life path were insignificant. Knock it off the burners, please, I promise to serve thee, just don’t let that Tome burn, or I shall be burned!” So begged the devil-familiar of Hank, as the pony stallion returned to stand with his fore-legs and hoofs upon a kitchen chair to watch the Tome begin to burn.