Bull riding from the chute

When the gate flung open for this ride the bull immediately spun to the left, reared its hind quarters and let fly with a vicious double barrelled kick. The loud “PRANGGGGGGGG” that echoed in my ears as the bulls legs smashed the wrought iron bars inches from my face momentarily stopped my heart. Had those bars not separated that 1,600 pounds of solid muscle from my head your humble narrator would likely be composing this story with a pack of crayons and drool on my chin. The clots of dirt that flung from its legs and hooves covered my face and body. I deemed this as a good thing though because the mud splats on my clothing perfectly camouflaged the fact that I’d crapped my pants.