You push hard on the handle bar in front of you as the car climbs another hill. You hit it and bang on it, the brays and screams of the boys behind you fueling your desire to escape. You start to squeeze yourself out. A little bit, but not enough. You take a deep exhale and suck in every muscle you can. It hurts your hips, but you squeeze out of the grip of the handle and it falls to the seat.
The car is just about to go over top the next hill and you jump onto the service stairs beside it. You grab hold of the railing, trying to keep your balance on your hooves. You look back as the boys plead for your help and grab at your clothes. “Please, help us,” one cries. “Get me out too,” cries another. The last boy you see go over is holding onto the side of his head as a pair of donkey ears slide out from his hands. Then the car disappears over the top.
You start making awkward steps down the stairs on your hooves and watch as another car approaches you. These boys are no better off. They see you and plead for help as they change. You are almost to the bottom of the stairs when you start to feel a horrible throbbing in your...