What’s so special about a unicorn? How does a horse doing a very poor impression of a rhinoceros (come on, it totally still looks like a horse. They’d have to seriously pig out on equine protein shakes and preferably legal substances of a definitively steroidish ilk in order to beef up to a point where they might begin to resemble their rhino idols) manage to maintain such an unquestionably mythical status? Of all the things they’ve done to horses in the name of fantasy (added wings, shrinking, rainbow manes, the whole nine yards), sticking a horn on one might not be the worst or strangest crime but still, it’s a bit weird if you really think about it.
And that’s not accounting for the wide array of variation that I’ve noticed throughout pop culture and that. There are the Harry Potter ones who are born gold, turn silver and eventually become white when they reach adulthood. But that’s not all, they’re not merely funky colour changing ponies with attitude but have all manner of magical attributes like blood that will help you out if you’re in a pinch but place a pox on both your houses (I think, it’s been a while since my last care of magical creatures lesson).
It seems to me that unicorns are pretty much always the good guys. Or at the very least neutral (that may just be the ones that live in Switzerland though). Where are all the evil unicorns (they probably live on google but it would ruin my current round of question posing if I did. See? I’ve pretty much almost nearly got the hang of this dragging things out lark by now. It only took me two years)? Maybe this is an entirely unique concept worthy of an incredible line of bestselling imaginative novels. And if it is I want my share of the royalties (at least seventy per cent). I’ll know if you’ve stiffed me. You have been warned.