Walking to his Death

>be me, Bonky
>Pickle Horse-man is walking to his death
>he just picked himself up off the couch, said as much, and started walking
>i'm following him
>i want to see him die
>or i want to see death if death is a physical destination
>we're walking
>we walk all across the continental UNITED STATES of America
>finally, he sets down in the dirt
>and dies
>in the squatting position
>just dies
>havin himself a squat
>i don't know what to do
>i start walking away
>but then i don't want to leave him
>we didn't bring our phones
>he's just dead
>i can't believe it
>he did it
>but he left me behind
>i don't know what to do
>who do i talk to
>do i go straight to a funeral home?
>do i go to the police?
>the hospital?
>hospitals and police are for living people
>i walk for miles and miles through suburbs
>but the suburbs are all fake
>fake suburbs built to fool the chinese into thinking we have it all
>empty houses
>finally i get to a truck stop
>i say hey
>my friend died
>they say whereabouts?
>oh fuck
>i have no clue
>i think i got lost
>i don't know if i can get back to my dead friend
>but they call the hospital
>and send an ambulance
>and i walk along the ambulance
>and after some time we come back to the spot where i left pickle horse-man
>and there's a dog tugging a long cord of intestine out of his sphincter
>i say what the fuck
>i charge after the dog
>but he's way down there
>and nimble
>and as a horse i'm super tall
>so i'm trying to look down and step on him
>but so far i've just succeeded in getting wrapped up in pickle horse-man's inverted poop sleeve
>it's wrapped around my leg
>and the dog is yapping
>the dog is pissing me the eff off!
>i start bucking around
>i just want this stupid dog gone from my friend!
>just leave him in peace!
>oh fuck
>i'm all wrapped up in pickle horse-man guts
>i'm panicking
>i'm bolting
>i leap a fence
>i'm tracking pickle horse-man's dead body over fences and backyards
>i get out into an open field
>i'm yanked to a halt
>i drop down
>i'm wriggle around on the grass
>what a mess
>i'm trampling up mud and grass
>i get some traction
>i pull with all my might
>i hear a loud POP
>i'm still wrapped up in intestines but they've gone slack
>i look back
>pickle horse-man got lodged between two fence posts
>i approach his body
>i look into the dark hollow of his ass
>i look deep inside
>i see a small pickle horse-man
>he waves and smiles
>i love pickle horse-man
>and that will never change