Garion took one of the potatoes and gingerly set it down on the counter. With both forelegs, he grasped the masher and laid it juuust on top of the potato. The colt lifted the hammer, only to stop it just short. Up, down, stop. Up, down, stop. Again and again. The aim just had to be perfect; this wasn't mashing counters, after all. He brought the hammer up high, higher than any try before, and brought it smashing down onto the potato with all his foalish strength, reducing the potato to mush with a loud *splat!*
Garion's forelegs trembled uncontrollably, and his face started to glow. Bigger, bigger, bigger until it seemed his grin would fall right off his face. "That. Was. Incredible!" the colt cried out in sheer delight. The hammer stayed put; he couldn't even bring himself to lift it again.
He didn't even notice as his caretakers trotted into the kitchen.
(Chilly what have you done you've doomed us all)