Owen and Tony

"Tell me a story with a British accent."

"What? Why?"

"Because it’s soothing."

"You should be soothed by the sound of my normal voice."

"Ew. Just tell me a story with a charming British person in it."

"My stories don’t have people in them."


"Because people are boring. Hold on, I’ve got one."

Once upon a time, on a little farm in the magical land known as England, there lived a cockney pony named Owen. Owen loved to watch movies, in fact, he wanted to be in movies. He used to tell his best friend, Tony the Rooster, about it all the time.

"Imma be onnna dem movie stars," Owen would coo in his shrill, grating cockney accent, "like Mr. Ed."

"Mr. Ed didn’t sound like a Victorian orphan," Tony would answer.

"Fair play, fair play. But you’ll see. One day, I’ll be tha bes’ movie star evah."

   One afternoon, the famous movie director Paul W. S. Anderson came to the farm. He was doing research on his latest project, “The Farm Stand.” It was about a farmer who had to defend his little farm stand from corporate Big-Wigs. And there were zombies too, whatever, it was really just a rough draft at this point. Like, it still needed tweeking, you know, maybe a quick read-through and an editing sesh. Anyways, Paul W. S. Anderson ended up on the farm, talking to the Farmer about farmer things, when he happened to notice Tony and Owen.

"What’s up with those animals?" he asked. 

"Oh," said the farmer, "that’s Tony and Owen. They’re best friends. They watch movies in the barn together all the time."

"Watch movies? Like, on a tv? In the barn?"

"Yeah, I wheel one in, and play movies for them. Mostly French New-Wave stuff, you know," explained the Farmer.

"So wait," said Paul W. S. Anderson said, "you play movies for that pony and rooster? Is this like a daily thing?"

"Kind of, it depends. If it’s not raining they go out and graze, but yeah, pretty much."

"Huh, I’ll keep that in mind," the famous movie director mused, scratching his chin.

   Needless to say, “The Farm Stand” was a box office bomb. Not just in a traditional sense. It was so bad, Red Box reported an increase in “Gigli” rentals. Paul W. S. Anderson found himself back on the farm again, this time for something that might save his career.

"Farmer! I need Tony and Owen!" he cried, vaulting the barnyard fence with the grace of an Olympic athlete. 

"Oh, it’s you," said the Farmer, "sorry I didn’t see your movie, I heard it was pretty awful."

"It was, I’m not upset you didn’t see it. But I have this new project, it’s called "Owen and Tony," and I need Owen the Pony and Tony the Rooster to be in it."

"Well jee," said the Farmer, "I’d have to ask them first."

   Tony and Owen were as thrilled as farm animals with no frame of reference could possibly be. Paul W. S. Anderson flew them out to Hollywood, and “Tony and Owen” because this generation’s “Milo and Otis.” They even got their own stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

The End