There was a horse named chestnut, and he lived in a barn. By barn I mean studio apartment, and by horse I mean man. Also, by Chestnut I mean Wilson. The man named Wilson, sometimes referred to by the narrator as Chestnut the Gelding, enjoys wearing a dilapidated horse costume in his spare time. Most people believe this to be a particularly odd thing to do in your spare time, therefore, Wilson doesn’t have very many friends.
Chestnut doesn’t care though. He’s a free horse. Who cares what a few podunk Iowans think? They wouldn’t understand a person with real personality even if that person put on a horse costume and kicked them in the throat. Believe me I’ve seen Chestnut experiment with this method before. That’s how I met him.