(Category: Satire / News / New York City)
(the Timez) A family of pushers with ties to the Cartel were arrested last Saturday in what police are calling the biggest East Coast narcotics scheme since the advent of Jersey Shore.
The plot dates all the way back to the '50s, when a pair of failing proto-Beat poets from the Florida Keys hit Manhattan with a van full of cocaine.
They set up a door-to-door flower business with vials of blow tucked into the bouquets, and it was all uphill from there.
As the times a-changed, what started as a duo eventually progressed into a small empire smuggling prescription medications and illegal narcotics straight into the heart of Manhattan. By the '70s the front had evolved into a bi-weekend pony carnival held on various meadows throughout Central Park. The ponies, driven in from the farmlands of New Jersey for each occasion, turned out to be drug mules.
"A fistful of condoms in every rectum," said an expert at an NYPD press conference. "For decades these animals were exploited. Hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of narcotics every other weekend, tied off in prophylactics and shoved up the asses of ponies." (Press cameras flash. A child in the back of the room begins to cry.) "You heard right, friends: Candy-Andy the Cowboy Clown & Co, one of the city's most beloved pony providers since 1973, was a scam."
"They were such normal neighbors," said a neighbor. "I was friends with 'em on Facebook and everything." Apparently the dealers fit right into Upper East Side yuppie culture by throwing around wads of cash for gaudy nonsense every day, publishing photos of their new merchandise via online social networks, gossiping incessantly in the apartment lobbies –– normal folk more or less. They also allegedly maintained deep disguises at all times, flawlessly blending in with power suits, all manner of designer wear, overproduced hairdos and a general air of pretentiousness. "I thought they was account men or somethin'," said a local.
The Candy-Andy drug ring was finally outed last Saturday when a half-dozen of the ponies went apeshit in the park. Evidently the packages of heroin and coke hadn't been tied off properly. Police speculate that it was a sabotage from within the organization: "I mean, you're working for these high-up Cartel fat cats, and they're paying you minimum wage to live on a farm in Jersey and stick things in horses' asses . . . I think what we saw here is the equivalent of a fast food burger cook spitting in the deep frier. 'Cept with more severe consequences. . . ."
More severe indeed. The ponies were being walked from the truck to their stable in Central Park when they received a Cobain-level dose of smack and/or blow via suppository. And so they went wild, galloping into the crowds, drooling in people's hair, panhandling and awkwardly nodding out in the middle of the sidewalks. According to witnesses, one of the beasts had a particularly strange freak-out when it chased down a hipster cyclist, tore off his flannel shirt, wore it as a hat, wielded a pen with its teeth and began graffitiing alt-lit grunge poetry all over the gazebos. "I seen it!" said a graybearded pigeon-feeder on the park bench.
"If it had been regular condoms," continued the expert at the press conference, "the ponies may have remained tame enough to keep under wraps. But these Cowboy Clown bastards got sloppy. They were stuffing magnums into those animals for Christ's sake. . . ." A not-so-classic parable about the pitfalls of greed.
"The sudden onslaught of euphoria originating in those poor ponies' nether regions must have felt something like they were being screwed in the anus by Jesus Himself –– pardon my Spanish," Mayor Bloomberg was quoted saying, a touch of what seemed like longing in his voice.
The Chief of Police feels confident that a felony charge will be obtained for all of the involved parties. As for the affected ponies, it was decided that they deserve retirement, so they've been transported to a New Age Animal Rights farm in Kansas. Reportedly, resident pseudo-scientists are testing a version of the Infinite Monkey Theorem by keeping the ponies supplied with heroin, giving them classic novels to tear up with their teeth and remix. Their hypothesis is, with a dozen or so ponies and a couple months' worth of smack, at least one of the animals will happen to recreate a William S. Burroughs cut-up technique piece. Results are as of yet inconclusive.