Butterscotch, Roxxie's colossal horse, was one of the most deadly weapons at the kangeroo's disposal. If Texas could find a way to lock her in her stables, that would go a long way to leveling the playing field. The weasel nodded to herself and headed forwards to the stables, flattening herself against the wall and cautiously peering around the stable doors.
Looking inside, Texas was treated first and foremost to a perfect view of the horse's massive, sweaty, filth-stained ass, pointed right at her and on full display. The weasel froze, certain that she had just stumbled into a trap, until she heard the faint snoring sounds coming from the horse. Butterscotch was fast asleep.
Unable to believe her luck, the sheriff grinned widely and stepped into the stables, looking for a study plank to block the doors with while the horse was out cold. Unfortunately, just as she did so, the sleeping Butterscotch lifted her tail.
Before Texas could react, a gaseous eruption blasted out of the horse's ass and hit Texas like a brick wall, sending her hat flying out of the stables and spraying her with the toxic fumes and horse-sweat. The weasel gagged and coughed while horse flatulence clung to her clothes and fur like a manure perfume, filling her nose with the ungodly smell. She fell to her knees, gasping noisily for fresh air, but only got more horse farts as a second blast rolled out not long after the first, the force knocking her onto her butt and the smell leaving her in a helpless daze. While the sheriff whimpered and gagged in disgust from the ground, the horse slowly began to stir, her rest having been disturbed by the noisy sounds of distress.
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