Go The Bronco’s

The crowd around her cheered and toasted, wearing the orange and blue jerseys with numbers of their favorite players, many had caps on with the Bronco’s fierce stallion emblazoned it, and some wore T-shirts with the same emblem. The crowd and Gemma have been celebrating for hours now in the small bar in downtown Denver and were by this point hammered. Gemma suddenly had a hundred new friends as she partied with people she hardly knew, and they brought her drinks hoping they could get into the pretty blonde’s pants too. So by two am, she could hardly walk, and as her binge drinking became too much for her small body to handle, she suddenly felt sick.

Gemma decided she needed some fresh air and left the bar to go outside for a moment, but extreme nausea wouldn’t abate and her head started spinning too. Looking around, she spotted an alley and staggered wildly down it, coming to some stables. A local horse and carriage operator kept his horses stabled here, although she didn’t know that at the time. Gemma needed a place to vomit and fast. The door is open and a light on inside, however, no one is inside except a couple of white horses. She staggers to the horses, clutching her stomach when suddenly she trips and falls headfirst into a stall, wedging herself between the wooden fence on one side of the stall.

The motion makes her vomit as alcohol poisoning takes its toll on the nineteen-year-old girl. Eventually, she passes out, draped over the fence like a blonde rag doll.

Inside the stall is an old white stallion named Duke who stood passively chewing hay as Gemma fell through his stall.