Jasper's work as the Kingdom's "official beast tamer" had reached the ears of everyone who had any sort of beastly issue. And by everyone, he meant everyone—from the wealthy nobles to the random peasants who'd discovered a random monster in their backyards. It was a solid gig, if you didn't mind getting kicked, eaten, or dragged into ridiculous situations.
His next task, though, was one that filled him with equal parts dread and amusement. It wasn't a dangerous creature like the behemoth or a picky eater like the giraffe. No, this time, he was sent to deal with a unicorn.
Unicorns, as it turns out, were insufferable. They weren't mean or terrifying like dragons, nor were they grumpy like trolls. No, unicorns had a problem that was far worse: they had a hoof complex.
And this particular unicorn, the one Jasper was summoned to tame, was particularly bad. She believed her hooves were perfect—too perfect—and was convinced that everyone around her was jealous of them. The problem was that she wouldn't stop talking about it.
So, Jasper found himself trudging through a meadow of tall grass and colorful flowers, desperately trying to avoid getting pricked by thorns or tripping over rocks. He had heard that this particular unicorn had taken residence in a glade near the edge of the forest, and, judging by the overwhelming amount of sparkle in the air, it was obvious he was getting close.
Sure enough, as he rounded a bend, he saw the unicorn standing in a patch of sunlight, posing dramatically in front of a large mirror. The mirror—of course—was floating in midair, held up by some kind of shimmering magic.
"Oh, yes. These hooves are magnificent," the unicorn said to herself, her voice dripping with self-admiration. "Truly, no one has hooves as divine as mine. If only the world could see their perfect symmetry."
Jasper rubbed his temples. "Here we go," he muttered to himself.
The unicorn spotted him and immediately pranced over, her shimmering mane swishing like a curtain in the wind. "Ah! A human! You are in the presence of perfection, mortal. You should be honored to gaze upon my hooves, for they are the very epitome of beauty and grace!"
Jasper blinked a few times, trying to process what he had just heard. "Your... hooves? Seriously? You want me to look at your hooves?"
"Not just look, but worship!" the unicorn declared dramatically, striking a pose that made it seem like she was about to perform some sort of ballet routine. "Behold their delicate arch and flawless curvature. Surely, you cannot help but bow before them, recognizing their divine nature."
Jasper stared at the unicorn's hooves, which were indeed well-maintained and sparkling in the sunlight. But to be fair, they didn't look that special. They were hooves. Plain hooves. Maybe a bit shiny. But nothing worth losing your mind over.
"I don't know if I'm supposed to kneel or what, but I think you're taking this 'perfect hooves' thing a little too seriously," Jasper said, trying to suppress a yawn.
The unicorn gasped, her eyes widening in outrage. "You dare insult my hooves?! How dare you!" She stomped her hoof dramatically, causing the ground beneath them to shake.
Jasper stepped back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Whoa, hey, no need to start an earthquake over it. Look, I'm just here to tame you and move on. No need to throw a tantrum."
The unicorn flicked her mane, clearly indignant. "Tantrum? I do not throw tantrums! I merely express my perfection to the world!"
"Right," Jasper muttered. "And I'm here to tell you that your hooves are just hooves, and the world does not revolve around them."
At that, the unicorn looked like she might faint. "How... how could you say such a thing? Do you not realize that my hooves are the reason for all my glory? My beauty is defined by them. Without them, I would be nothing!"
Jasper stared at the unicorn. "Are you... are you really saying that your entire existence revolves around your hooves? You've got magic, you've got wings, and all you care about is your... hooves?"
The unicorn nodded solemnly, her eyes sparkling with the weight of her words. "Of course! You don't understand. You could never understand. A creature like me—perfect in every way—needs to have perfect hooves to match. Otherwise, I would simply be... ordinary."
Jasper blinked a few times, trying to make sense of this. "Wait, so... if I told you that literally no one else cares about your hooves, would that ruin your whole life?"
The unicorn gasped as if she had been slapped. "Wh-what? No one cares about my hooves? But they're perfect!"
"Look, I've dealt with enough creatures to know that no one cares about your hooves except for you," Jasper said, sitting down in the grass. "Maybe... just maybe, you need to get over the idea that your hooves are the center of the universe."
The unicorn stared at him for a long time, as if processing this new information. Finally, she took a few steps back and pawed at the ground.
"Are... are you suggesting that my beauty doesn't come from my hooves?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Jasper leaned back and stretched his legs. "What I'm saying is that maybe, just maybe, you've got a little too much focus on something that's not really a big deal. You've got a horn, you've got wings, you're a unicorn, for crying out loud! You're already magical. The hooves? They're just the cherry on top."
The unicorn stood completely still, her eyes wide with realization. After a long pause, she took a deep breath.
"You're right," she whispered, her voice cracking a little. "My hooves... they're just hooves. They don't define me. I... I have been so obsessed with them that I forgot the other parts of me. The important parts."
Jasper smiled. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"
The unicorn turned to him, her eyes softening. "I... I'm sorry, human. I've been so focused on myself that I didn't notice how ridiculous I've been. I think... I think I can finally stop checking my hooves every five minutes."
Jasper gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Well, I'm glad you finally figured it out. Now, can we get to the part where you stop being a diva about everything?"
The unicorn nodded, her demeanor now completely different. "Yes. I shall be humble. I shall embrace the fact that my hooves are just a small part of who I am. Thank you, human, for showing me the truth."
Jasper grinned, standing up and brushing off his pants. "Hey, no problem. Just remember, next time you try to brag about your hooves, I might just remind you how ridiculous it sounds."
The unicorn lowered her head, a genuine smile now on her face. "I will. Thank you."
With that, Jasper turned and walked away, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. The diva unicorn had been tamed, and the world was one step closer to making sense... or at least it was mildly less absurd.