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>To the stable
The stable is a run down barn with a correl out both the front and back. The smell of rotting manure overwhelms your sense of smell.
You look around for an attendant, but see none. the only thing here seems to be a machine with "VEND-A-HORSE" painted on it. Looking at the coinslot on the machine, 500 FQ's will get you a horse with a 5-trip lifetime.
A barrel flys out of the saloon. It bounces down the street a short distance before exploding. Peter mutters somthing about the ale "having a minimum safe distance"
Almost as if to prove his point, Hotshoe burps, the gas immediately igniting. There goes his eyebrows.
There is a Pitchfork here
There is a Hammer here
There is a can of Nails here
There is a Saddle here
There is a pile of Hay Bales here
Exit is to the NORTH-EAST
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