Back in college where everyone's greatest pastime was hitting bottles and subsequently hitting each other with bottles on his head when alcohol started killing dormant brain cells, providing live entertainment to the less drunk ones. (The degree of damage was directly proportional to the amount of alcohol consumed). I'd heard a tale of that notoriously elusive horse that, just like Da vinci's La Gioconda, for some weird and cryptic reasons, casts a knowing smile. It was so elusive that in the span of my college years, I never got the chance to see one. I was told by my hard core friends, who can destroy three internal organs at the same time (pickle their livers, scorch their lungs and fry their kidneys to dust with salty and cheap nibbles, e.g. boy bawang and everything else with price tags below P5.) that the odds of finding the Mona Lisa of Booze is 1: 12. or one bottle in every dozen- the very reason why I finally dropped my quest to finding that proverbial happy horse. One bottle of Red Horse, to put it mildly, can drive me into a coma for a week, what more a dozen. 
There must be an easier way to die.Years after college, when the most popular past time is still hitting bottles but this time followed by hitting ON each other instead of knocking each other senseless. (and blaming it on the hapless alcohol the morning after.) I stumbled upon a bottle peculiar from the rest. A horse that had its mouth curved into a wide grin. The holy Grail and the lost continent of Lemuria! ( Im being cinematic again,my bad.) Finally, my encounter with the horse that had kept me baffled for years was one gulp away. I swilled and I swear a boulder of ice would not have made the taste less vile. It kicks you from your guts out and it kicks you hard!
Post Script:
A boy wearing a black shirt was seen spread-eagled on their doorstep, presumably braindead until he was poked with a broomstick by the maid. oh well, blame it on that horsy smile and I say, chalk it up to experience.
