Once upon a time, a girl named Heather went to a land far, far away called Paris. She wanted to go to Paris her whole life, so she was very excited.  She couldn’t wait to eat baguettes and triple cream cheeses, drink wine, smoke ciggies, and be inspired by the avant garde fashion of the Paris streets. When she got there, she couldn’t believe her eyes. There were women in flagrantly colorful dresses, fluorescent tights, tall, decorative heels and scarves galore. There were large, open-air markets where she could eat all the cheeses she liked. She could walk the streets drinking champagne and inhaling all the culture of magical Paris.

One day, while standing on a corner of rue Pierre Lescott in the very fashionable section of Chatlet les halles, Heather spied a pair of shoes in the window of a shop that melted her fashionable heart. She raced across the street and into the store. She picked up the shoes. “I must have them,” she said out loud. While no one in particular paid attention to Heather’s statement, she continued to lovingly stroke the soft exterior of the shoe. A salesman approached her and said in a very French voice, “Ahhh, zee lovely pony hair Nike high top. A good choice. Can I show you a size, madam.” Heather nearly dropped the shoe in shock. Pony hair!?! She must have misunderstood his French. Her beloved shoes were made of pony hair? This couldn’t be. Heather was a vegetarian. She couldn’t possibly  set aside all her convictions for a pair of shoes. Could she? As the salesman started taking the shoes out of her hands, Heather gasped. This couldn’t happen. She had to have the beautiful Nike, high top pony hair shoes. She must!

And so it was, for Heather the vegetarian, and her pony-hair covered Nike hightops. They lived together happily ever after, almost.

One day, when Heather was back at work in Denver, being a designer, a little pony appeared at her desk.

“hhhhhheeeather. It’s me. Hhhhhhi top. The pony that made your shoes.”

“Oh Hi Top. Thank you so much for sacrificing your hair and your life for my very lovely, awesome sneakers. I’m a new woman thanks to you.”

“Neeeeeiiiiigh. No problem. It only hurt for a second.”

“Hi Top, you’re gonna live here with me, at my desk. Forever. I love you Hi Top.”

So, Heather and Hi Top and her sneakers all lived happily ever after.