The gaot stopped and glanced over his shoulder, sides heaving from the exhertion...breaths coming in wracking pants. shuddering as he remembered the sight that greeted his eyes a few short hours ago when he sauntered into the community, a bounce in his step and a satisfied smirk on his lips as the wind gently blew his beard to one side.
That was until he rounded the corner by the coffee shop, intnet on nibbling some tasty rejects from the ground, all those aspiring young writers balling up and throwing their latest musings on the ground in disgust were generally pretty tasty. The first danger sense he felt deep in his gut was when he looked at the cafe and found it empty. Moving his head side to side slowly, ears perked up for the hint of the slightest sound he moved forward, the only sound that met his ears was his hooves clicking on the cobblestones.
That is until he entered the square and saw the huge pire waiting to be started and a goat sized spit with a wicked sharp end laying across the table. Danger senses screaming for him to run, his head jerked to the right as he heard a sound. Eyes bulging in fright at seeing all the young aspiring writers he had been feasting on were standing there staring at him. Jerking back a couple of steps his brain caught up with the screaming in his head...they had pitchforks and some of them even had basting brushes.
A sudden sense of danger caused the goat to tear himself form the horrific memories in time to avoid the pitchfork thunking into the ground where moments before he was standing. Bleating in fear he shot off towards the woods and the hope of safety.
I gave it a good start who wants to add to it
ROTFLMAO