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Brandon laid in bed, his pillow over his face to try and drown out his alarm.

"Phone, please. I need sleeeeeeeep," he groaned.

The horse had always been a stomach sleeper, but after three weekends in a row of getting his balls punted by his costar plus the occasional (and he felt unnecessary) tune-up rehearsals, Brandon had a set of achey grapefruits between his thighs that meant he had to sleep on his back with his legs as wide as he could keep them. Ideally with a fan on, pointed straight at his lap to help cool them off. There had been a whole lot of work he'd expected to put into being a stage actor, but having a dedicated testicle recovery routine was definitely not one of them.

It wasn't just the throb of his grumpy balls, either. There was another throb going on down there. At the behest of the director, Brandon still hadn't cum even once. Over a month without getting off. That broke his previous record by... a month. His balls took every opportunity to scream at him that they were supposed to be getting a chance to empty out, and all he was doing in response was putting them in the crosshairs for yet ANOTHER round of kicking.

"...buddy. You gotta relax. I don't like this any more than you do," he says, looking down at his belly, his rock-hard equine dick laying there, staring up at him. It twitched in response, like it had its own personality and was arguing with him.

Brandon eased himself out of bed, making his way to the kitchen to make some coffee, which was going to get thrown back with a handful of ibuprofen. Another part of the routine. The horse was having so many second-thoughts about his life choices, but at the same time, he couldn't deny the satisfaction in performances well received.

"Four stars!" came one review.

"The most fun I've had at a stage show in years!" came another.

The crowds applauded for him, sure they laughed at seeing him crumple down to the floor after getting his balls slammed up into his belly again, but that was just part of it, right? Suffering for the art, as they said. It was helping further his career... and he had that date with Christine coming soon! All the hoss had to do was finish out the remaining performances, pray his testicles survived them, and then oooooh boy. He was gonna take that girl for a RIDE.

Brandon sat, carefully, on the couch and opened up his laptop, checking the usual array of emails and social media postings. In between the usual noise, one message caught his eye. An email that simply said "OPPORTUNITY, PLEASE READ" in block capitals.

Curious, the stallion positioned himself as comfortably as he could manage, and opened it up.

"Brandon,

This is Emily from the Albridge Touring Company. We caught a performance of A Midnight Courtship and, to put it mildly, we were highly impressed! Albridge is embarking on a tour very soon of a new show and we think you would be perfect for the lead. This is an intense role, but we're confident you have the mettle for it. Call us and we can schedule a combination reading and audition.

Emily"

For a few seconds, Brandon just stared at his laptop screen. He knew Albridge. They weren't one of the big budget companies that had elaborate stagings that got celebrities getting their picture taken when they came out to see, no. They existed on the other side. They were the exclusive troupe that only let in the best of the best and performed for the more "serious" audiences. If there was anything that would give him credibility as an actor moving forward, it was a role with them.

He called the number back, and immediately scheduled a meeting with them. To his surprise, they said he could come by the next morning. A bit short notice, to be sure, but on the plus side there were no rehearsals to worry about. It fit right in.

"Okay, Brandon. You got this," the horse muttered to himself, standing outside the Albridge Touring Company building. The small brick affair with an elaborate hand-painted sign at its front. It just screamed "long-running and traditional." He took a breath and stepped in.

"Um... hello? Anyone here?" he asked aloud, keeping his baritone voice from being overly boomy lest he spook someone. The front room was cluttered, looking like it got used more for storing coats and shoes than actually sitting on the couches.

"Oh! Hi! One second, I'll be right out!" came a rather high voice from the other room. A moment later, a small mouse girl emerged, dusting her hands off on her jeans. Apparently she'd been doing some work with her hands. Maybe she was part of the stage crew.

Brandon rubbed the back of his neck. "Hi! Uh, I'm Brandon? I called yesterday morning, there was talk of an audition...?"

The mouse sprang upwards on her toes suddenly, grinning and making her way over to take Brandon's hand in her smaller, furless grasp and shake it.

"Brandon!" she said cheerily. "I'm Emily. It's good to meet you! Yes, apologies for the mess here. We're having a bit of an overhaul around here, so everything is a bit... everywhere. Normally we keep a tidier house."

"It's okay! Really! I know you guys are on the road a lot, I figure this is more for... rehearsals and prop creation?"

Emily snapped her fingers and pointed. "You got it! This is just home base for the business side of things. We do our rehearsals at the theatre house down the street. Actually that's where we do most of our auditions, too, buuuuuut," the little mouse sang, "Sam and I felt like we should have you over here for this one. It's not REALLY an audition. Come on."

Brandon blinked, faintly confused as he followed Emily up the stairs. "It's not? But... I thought you said..."

The mouse laughed. "What I mean is, we're pretty sure you're the best candidate for the role, it's just... you know what, I'll let Sam explain it, she's been up there for a while."

Upstairs, a door opened to reveal a decently sized meeting room of sorts. A wooden table on the far side with a pair of chairs in front of it, a typical office potted plant and an array of posters and newspaper pages featuring Albridge's shows over the years across the walls. At the table itself, leaned back and tapping away at her phone, an elegant if thick-limbed lioness sat.

"Sam! Brandon's here!" Emily cheerily squeaked.

Brandon approached the table, smiling as best as he could, holding his hand out in greetings. "Hi! Good to meet you. Uh, Emily said you'd been up here a while? I hope I didn't have you waiting, I thought we'd agreed on..."

The lioness gripped Brandon's hand in hers, showing that strength he expected from her species but still faintly alarmed. "Oh no, you're not late. I was just so excited to have you here I decided to make sure I was all prepared for when you arrived. Please, sit down!"

The stallion sat as he was told, wincing as he made sure not to let his swollen testicles thump down on the hard seat too much (and not noticing the sly grin passing between the two ladies seated opposite him).

"Yeah, um, Emily also said this wasn't really an audition? I don't really understand."

Samantha nodding, resting her phone screen side down and leaning forward on the table.

"Mmhm. You see, we've had a script sitting in our archives for a little while now that we've always wanted to put on, but didn't have a lead who had the chops for it. It's called Primal, Carnal. A bit of an experimental idea, some really intense staging, no intermission, fairly long. It asks a lot of its cast."

Brandon's brow furrowed. "And... you think that's me?"

Emily chipped in, nodding. "Exactly! Obviously a Midnight Courtship took some, ahem, heft to get through every night, and that kind of resilience is exactly what Primal, Carnal needs!"

The horse rubbed the back of his long neck, tossing his mane in a way that was downright charming. That same faintly vacant look that made him appeal to Darlene at his auditions back then.

"So, er... what is this, then?"

Samantha smiled, sliding a small stack of pages over towards Brandon. "We need to make sure you've got what it takes. Put simply, this show hinges upon you. We don't think there's anyone else who could pull this part off, but we need to be sure that you can do it. We want to go through some readings, a bit of basic blocking and... choreography. It'll take a while, so I hope your afternoon is free. If it goes well, though? You're our star, and the show will go on! If not, well. I guess we'll go our separate ways and, unfortunately, Primal, Carnal will have to wait a while longer."

Brandon swallowed, flipping through the pages. It was a peculiar script. The lines looked disjointed, almost like characters were monologuing near each other more than dialoguing with each other. The actions were vague, using single mentions of actions rather than full explanations of them. It felt like he was looking at a lot of pieces that had been cut from a larger script and stitched together.

"And... you think this is a good one?"

Emily nodded. "Oh goodness yes. Honestly it's one of the most brilliant scripts we've had our paws on. Just we've yet to find someone who has the ability to act under... pressure. Until now. So. Shall we give it a go?"

Brandon looked down at the script again. It was like something he'd have gotten assigned in English class and been told to try and find the hidden meanings in. He had to prove himself, though, so he nodded.

"Perfect! Em, you'll take the other side here. We're going to start easy and ramp it up. Top of page one."

The equine watched as Emily skipped her way around to him, holding script pages. She stood up close, enough so that he got a better look at her than earlier. The mouse was slim, sure, but she had curves in all the right places. With how pent up he was, the big male immediately started imagining her out of those clothes, thrown on his bed, seeing just how much of his dick he could fit inside her...

"Hey! Brandon! You ready?" Samantha shouted.

"Oh! Uh, yeah. Ready when you are!"

"Go ahead. Action, et cetera."

Brandon squinted at the page. He had been given no way to prepare and now the nerves were kicking in. No look at the script ahead of time, not even a title. He had no idea what the context of the show was, who he'd be playing, what his motivations were. Maybe that was the point. Work under pressure.

"My feelings are my own," he began. "They resonate inside of me, and only by my actions do others experience some semblance of what they mean to me. I am not responsible for them, bu-GNNK!"

Midway through another confusing sentence, Brandon was interrupted by Emily knee THUNKING up between his legs, pinning his balls to his pelvis. The horse groaned out, bending at the waist and dropping the papers.

"Ff... what was that for?? Oh gods, my fucking nuts..." he wheezed. Those balls had already been putting up with a lot, so even a knee from a small girl was enough to rattle him. Jeez, he could just feel his balls swelling up already.

Emily sighed. "That's part of the audition!"

Brandon had his hands covering his crotch, though by now they were oversized enough that it barely shielded them.

"How??"

Samantha took a slow breath, watching from behind the table. "Brandon, listen. Primal, Carnal is an intense show about sexual relations, about desires, about the conflicts between body and mind. To be able to pull off this role, you need to be able to stay focused mentally while you're experiencing intense sensations physically."

"That means kicking me in the balls?" he asked. "Is that part of the show?"

"Well... not JUST kicking your balls, but it will be heavily featured."

Brandon just gaped at the two ladies. He was waiting for there to be a punchline, for the other half of the joke to come around, but it didn't.

"I just spent the last three weekends getting my nuts kicked on stage..." he started, only for Emily to interrupt.

"Exactly!" she said, looking cheery again. "How many guys out there do you think can still sing a song or deliver their lines after they just got their nads slammed up into their stomachs? We heard it through the grapevine that you weren't even wearing fakes! So sure, everyone else was getting a laugh at Samuel squealing and rolling around, but we saw an actor with the chops to put on a top-level performance even with his balls throbbing and aching, and knowing they're gonna take another hit!"

The tall horse's brain nearly short-circuited as it tried to process everything he'd just heard. He started having all sorts of horrible images of what the show might entail. A Midnight Courtship was bad enough, but at least there were only two scripted nut kicks in there, both at the end of their acts. Heavily featured? What did that even mean?

Still, this was a BIG opportunity, and it would look bad if he said no... let alone being the one to prevent the show from going on at all...

"Uh... sorry," he said, grunting, straightening himself back up after collecting the sheets of script he'd dropped. "Just, y'know, caught me off guard is all."

Both mouse and lion grinned, pleased.

"That's quite all right," Sam said. "Shall we try again?"

Brandon took a breath, wincing. "Uh... sure."

"On your cue."

Brandon started again. Gods, it was hard to keep focused on his line, not knowing when Emily was going to knee him again, but he gave it his valiant best.

"My feelings are my own. They resonate inside of me, and only by my actions do others experience some semblance of what they mean to meeEEee! I a-"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Samantha called out.

"What?" Brandon asked, concerned.

Samantha shook her head, slightly cross. "You flinched!"

The horse huffed, embarrassed but also annoyed. "She's gonna kick me in the nuts again, of course I flinched! Is that part of the show? Do I have to stand perfectly still and just not react?"

Samantha snorted. "Well of course you can react! That's the key word, though. React. Authenticity is part of Primal, Carnal, but that doesn't mean you can be flinching and trying to get out of the way. AFTER you get your balls kicked you can bend and groan and whatever else you need, but we need you to be standing strong for each incoming hit."

Brandon let out a pitiful little whine. He could just hear his testicles inside his khakis yelling up at him to leave RIGHT NOW, but he made them quiet down. This was too much of an opportunity, and he had a feeling that leaving would be pretty damaging on his career. His nuts had taken a lot of kicks already, right? Some of those rehearsals went pretty long, he could take some more. Right?

For the next half hour, Brandon and Emily fought to get through their page smoothly. Seemingly at random, the mouse interrupted his lines by driving her knee up into his heavy, full ballbag. That sharp kneecap SLAMMED up into his soft eggs over and over again. Sometimes the left one took the brunt of it, sometimes the right. If he was lucky, she'd kinda go up in between and his taint would take the hit more than his gonads.

By the time it was over, Brandon's face was flushed, his ears were hot, and he was wheezing. When Samantha finally said to take a break and get some water, the horse's balls were hanging down enough to be held up solely by the inseam of his pants, and swollen up to the point that each one was visible through the pants.

"H... how'd I do? Did I get the part?" he croaked to Emily, sitting down in one of the chairs.

Emily chuckled, running her fingers through his mane. "Well, you got through the easy part well enough. Now it's time to turn up the heat."

Brandon made another pitiful little sound. If getting a knee to the nuts a few dozen times was the easy part, what could the hard part be?

Samantha returned, holding a cup of coffee in her hand, ready to provide the answer. She'd changed outfits, dressed more sultry now. A form-fitting dress wrapped around her tawny-furred form, showing off powerful limbs, including a set of legs that led down to broad feet tucked into some worryingly vicious high heels.

"Okay!" she said, sipping from her cup. "I think that was a good start. We tested the waters a bit, so I think you're ready to actually dive into the show proper. First thing's first. Brandon? Clothes off."

The horse blinked, confused. "I... excuse me?"

Samantha waved her hand impatiently. "You heard me. Clothes off. I swear, it's like you weren't paying attention when we said this show was going to be intense."

Emily snickered, tapping him on top of the head. "That's why we emailed you! Otherwise we could just get a guy who actually WAS smart enough to wear his Steels. A big part of Primal, Carnal is that the audience can SEE the guy's junk while the action takes place."

Seeing the concern on Brandon's face, Samantha waved her hand. "Don't worry, this isn't ALL focusing on your balls. That big slab of yours is going to get some attention, and I think you'll enjoy that a LOT more."

That immediately caught Brandon's attention, yes. They did say it was about sexual desires, right? If that meant taking the bad with the good, that was something he'd be MORE than happy to participate in. A show where he could get his dick sucked was a show worth putting up with getting his nuts knocked around. That was a damn sight better than A Midnight Courtship.

"O... oh! Sure! Heh, hope you're ready for all this," he said to Emily, grinning ear to ear.

Emily grinned right back while she watched their horse boy strip down. He seemed to be putting on a show about it. First he unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it away from his upper body, showing off those lithe muscles beneath his short white coat. After kicking his shoes away, Brandon really had fun with pulling his pants off. He hooked his thumbs into his waistband, shifting his hips as he tugged downwards, showing off the first inch of his dick before pausing, teasing.

"Okay big guy, c'mon, this isn't a striptease," Emily said, with Brandon noticing that she was hiding a blush in her own big ears.

Satisfied that he was getting some control over the situation, Brandon continued, baring himself down fully and standing with his arms crossed, all of that heavy horse meat on display. His balls were swollen like hell, hanging heavily in their sack, but his dick was just as stiff and proud as could be, jutting straight out away from his hips like was blissfully unaware of what its downstairs neighbors had been put through.

"Ready when you are!" he said, winking to Emily.

"Oh no, this is her turn," the mouse said, gesturing to her feline partner.

"Okay, Brandon. On the surface, this scene feels simple. All I need you to do is echo the final phrase of my lines. For example, if I say 'all I asked was for him to care about my desires," then you say?"

The stallion hazarded a guess. "...my desires?"

"Good! Just emphasize the "my" part when you do it. The idea here is that conflict. But as before, this requires you keeping focus. Now, let's get started! Stand tall and proud, hands on your hips. Think superhero. Once again, you can react as you see fit, but no anticipating and the flow of the scene has to be steady. Got it?"

Brandon pulled in a breath through his nose and assumed the position, nodding.

Samantha sashayed her way over to him, putting on a display as she did so. Her hips swayed side to side, feet carefully placing one in front of the other in a straight line. He waited for her cue, but she seemed in no hurry. The lioness swirled around him, brushing that blood red dress against him, teasing him, looking like she was having fun with him. Finally she positioned herself behind him, her breasts pressed to the equine's back, while both of her soft-palmed paws reached around front to wrap around his cock.

"All I asked was for him to care about my desires..." she said, feeding him the line while her fingers stroked and gently squeezed all along his length.

Brandon started huffing unevenly. With the instructions not to cum from Darlene for his other show, he'd been doing his best to barely ever touch his dick just to keep temptation at bay. Aside from showering, the only time his cock got any manual attention was every goddamn time Christine felt like stroking him off, which was mercifully less common during show weeks compared to rehearsal. Still, he felt like he was on a hair trigger.

"Ahem... all I asked was for him to care about my desires..." Samantha repeated, sounding faintly irritated.

"...MY desires!" Brandon yelped back.

The lion paused a moment, both of her hands securely held onto Brandon's downright massive erection.

"Okay, buddy, I know I'm good at handjobs, but if you want this part you're going to need to be able to actually put a little acting in these lines."

Brandon shuddered, gritting his teeth, every ounce of his energy going into trying to hold back an orgasm that was positively BEGGING to be allowed out.

"S-sorry!" he gasped. "It's just... I haven't cum in like... over a month now? I didn't... I wasn't expecting this to be part of the uh, the audition..."

That answer caught both ladies by surprise. "Over a month?" Samantha echoed, getting a nod from Brandon. "Oh my... I think you're going to be even better for this part than we thought."

"I... am?"

Emily took over, nodding. "Yep! This isn't PORN, Brandon. We're not letting you jizz all over the stage. Yes, you'll get your cock stroked and sucked on during the show, but that's just showing appreciation to the physical form. If you can hold your spunk in that long, you really might be exactly what we've been looking for!"

Samantha leaned in a little more, peering over Brandon's shoulder at him. "Besides, if you think this is feeling too good, I can always help bring you back down..."

Just then, the lion's claws began to unsheath from her fingertips, poking into that hot, bare cock skin. Brandon let out a noise that was about as close to a squeak as a horse was capable of making, immediately shaking his head to stop Samantha from giving him a series of impromptu cock piercings.

"I'm good! I can hold it in!"

Samantha nodded. "Good! Now let's get going again..."

They started the scene once more. The dialogue wasn't too difficult, but Samantha made sure that Brandon had to fight to keep his composure. For the first round, she stayed behind him, stroking all along his impressive length. It was easy for her to deliver lines, but those warm, expert hands putting pressure and gentle friction over the horse's dick meant that just saying two little words was a Herculean effort. Her fingers traveled up to the flared head, drawing circles around it, gathering up the drizzles of precum that formed and smearing it all over him.

Brandon was struggling to keep upright. He was starting to wish they'd just go back to punting his nads around. That might have hurt like a bastard, but at least that was just something he had to put up with. This was taking more focus and energy than he felt he could possibly give. "Mercifully," Samantha made sure to jab her claws into his dick every once in a while to help distract him from cumming.

After a while of that, the lioness squatted down and slid between Brandon's legs, flipping over onto her back. Another sequence of lines began.

"It's like he never understood my struggles..."

As she spoke, Samantha lifted her leg up, the flat sole of her heeled shoe stroking along the underside of Brandon's cock. She lifted its weight there, bobbing her toes to make it jump lightly, raising it up in a way that made the pointed heel brush menacingly along the surface of his heavily bruised and swollen nutsack.

"M... MY struggles," Brandon replied, his voice tight from the effort of keeping himself together.

Suddenly a SMACK sounded out as Samantha's leg curled up and lashed out, her exposed toes slapping Brandon's balls hard enough that they swung forwards and made his pulsating cock whap up against his belly. His entire body shuddered and he let out an awful HOOONF of air, but managed to keep mostly in place. A moment later, Samantha expertly "caught" his dick on her shoe again, going back to the stroke from before and looking positively tickled.

The lines continued like that. Samantha would deliver her half while giving Brandon an uncomfortable shoe-job, then kick his balls just when he gave his response. The lioness was almost too good at her job, able to aim her toes to collide perfectly with the rear side of his testicles right where the cords connected, so by the end he was letting out a whole slew of pitiful mewls and cries in between his lines.

Samantha gracefully stood herself back up and dusted her thighs off. "That was good, Brandon! You're shaping up better than I think either of us had hoped!"

The praise was nice, but the horse was a big pile of jangled nerves and unspent cum, his knees wobbling. "C... can I sit down a little while?" he meekly asked.

Samantha patted his cheek. "Not quite yet. There's just one bit left, but it's the big one. Emily, get over here. Brandon, last page."

Brandon flipped to the indicated page, his hazy eyes doing their damned best to focus on the printed text. It was a big block, one that was apparently all his lines. No dialogue, nothing indicated in between anything. Just a whole bunch of words for him to say.

"This doesn't look too bad..." he said, glancing downward.

Samantha and Emily were kneeling in front of him now, lion on the left and mouse on the right. Brandon had that uneasy feeling in his belly, and his cock bobbed as if it knew there was trouble a-brewing as well.

"Okay, this scene is about three things. First the desire to pull away and have everything to oneself, the frustration of struggle that causes us to push back against each other, and finally the reconciliation and desire to rise above. The choreography will reflect that. On your cue."

Brandon gulped once again. He'd come to realize that any talk about themes in this show tended to come out in unpleasant treatment of his genitals. He took a deep breath, his muscled midriff tensing up in preparation.

"I wanted to have it all to myself, unwilling to sha-HAAAH! FUCK!"

Down below, each of the ladies had grabbed one of his balls in both of their hands. Each one SQUEEZING down on their trapped testicle. Samatha's broader hands were almost fully wrapped around hers like a clamp, while Emily's smaller fingers were driving into that nutmeat like nails. Worst of all, they were pulling in opposite directions, yanking those cords out to their limits.

"HAHH! FF... PLEASE STOP NOW!" he cried out.

"Brannnnndon," Samatha said with a faint grunt as she kept up the pressure. "I told you, this is all about putting you through your paces. This show needs you, and it needs you to be PROFESSIONAL."

Brandon's teeth gritted and his eyes clenched closed. His whole body was quivering. Having one girl work his nuts over was bad enough. A pair of them teaming up on him was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach. It wasn't that long ago that the idea of two girls fighting over his cock and balls sounded like a fantasy. The reality was... a little less fun.

The equine trembled, sweating, making pathetic noises of protest. He wanted to tell them to stop, please stop, he couldn't do the show. He WANTED to do that, but some part of his brain, deep in the recesses, wouldn't let him. He had to prove that he had it in him. He wasn't a quitter. He was a professional.

"I... I wanted to have it all to myse-helf! I was p... PULLING us apart!!" the stallion gasped out, reading the long monologue while Emily and Samantha put his nutsack through hell. They squeezed with both hands, driving their fingers into his testicles, making them bulge out in every direction, all the while yanking them apart into different damn zip codes. The girls were grunting from the effort of it, while poor Brandon's hips jolted and rocked in every direction, unable to find anywhere to go that would ease the agony.

"B-but eventually... I r-realized... all I was do-HOO-ing was driving us ag-GAINST each other!!" Brandon read, the tone of the speech changing. For a split second, there was relief, as the tension on his scrotum abated, his balls allowed to come back inwards. It was a brief respite, though, because a second later the lion and mouse were CRUSHING his balls straight into each other. They kept on squeezing the set, but now were putting their muscle into that horrible inward pressure as well. His poor balls were nearly driven flat, with Emily giving it all she had and Samantha making sure just to provide a nice solid "wall" for her small rodent friend to lean into.

Brandon's eyes could barely make out the words on the page. He was reading the lines in a voice that was jumping and bouncing all over the place. Two kicks in a single show was starting to feel like a walk in the park compared to having his heavy jewels crunched down nonstop, but he wasn't willing to admit defeat. Not when he was only a few lines from the bottom.

"Ah... hahhh... I g..." the stallion babbled, his voice barely able to crawl through.

"Alllmost there, Brandon, come on..." Samantha whispered, almost sounding encouraging about it.

"I f-finally realiIIIiized... what we needed to do was... come together and... rise up above it!"

Then, the climax of the scene. The horrible, horrible climax. Emily and Samantha cocked their arms down and flung them up, driving their fists straight into Brandon's balls with a punch that felt like it sent both of those already battered organs all the way up into his throat. The SMACK their knuckles made into the bare sack skin would have been loud if it hadn't been immediately drowned out by Brandon's "GAAAAHHHHFUHUHUUUUCK!" a second afterwards, followed by the horse just losing his ability to stand up and collapsing to the floor, curling his knees to his chest and rocking from side to side with his hands buried between his legs.

The two ladies stood up, panting quietly themselves, and not just because of the fatigue. They exchanged knowing glances. That was just plain HOT.

Samantha got her coffee cup again and sipped on it, taking in a breath and getting her composure back.

"Well, Em? What do you think?"

The mouse smiled, bouncing on her toes. "I think Primal, Carnal has a chance!"

Samantha nodded, stepping back over to Brandon and squatting down, rubbing the back of his head. "I'd call that a success! I was betting you'd tap out during the first part of the monologue, but you made it all the way to the end on your first go! After some time in rehearsals, I think you'll be able to do the whole show with no problem! Congratulations, Brandon, you've got the role!"

The horse let out an agonized little whinny, not able to say much else in response. He was definitely proud of himself for showing he had what it took, but he really hoped that the next show he got cast in was a little less strenuous. Maybe he should consider voice acting.