One of my first good sadbox stories, in my opinion. Really like this one. Oughta catch up with Reggie.
It’s perfect. You’ve done it. You’ve considered every variable. This is the perfect home for a fluffy, at least in regards to your small studio apartment in Long Island City. Space was at a premium, but you were pretty confident you’d accounted for that.
It was perfect. Four holes with inflatable air bladders lining the interior, protected by a thick layer of cotton fluff. It was actually easier than you’d anticipated to scale up your scale model, turns out the design was simple enough you literally just got the same parts but bigger. This is good, because it means you’ll have a tiny one in case your new lil’ buddy gets too enthusiastic about his surroundings.
You know they’re sensitive. Fragile too.
You head off to the local fluffy shack. Nice folks, don’t ask many questions. They’d been instrumental in your efforts to protect this foolproof safety harness. Had to get a lot of data on bone and muscle strength. But you weren’t looking for big fluffies or even foals. You need a lil’ chirpy baby.
The other one can be a stray.
“Hey Reggie.” You nod at the cashier. “Oh hey Ron, need another pillow?” That’s Reggie, always enthusiastically guessing you’ll be getting the same thing you got last time despite that literally never happening. It’s borderline impressive how he remembers your last purchase but never his guesses.
“No, need a foal. Real little. Newborn if possible. I’d prefer it if it hadn’t seen its mother yet. Easier to form attachment if I’m the first thing it sees.” Reggie chuckles. Pretty straightforward request. In fact, he tells you he’d just this morning borne witness to the biggest of poopies from a slack jawed beige mare with a sandy blonde mane. Six foals, 2 came out dead. Three of the other four had been sold to regulars over the course of the day, a feat he’d managed without any interference from the mare.
After all, she may be sad to see her babbehs go, but if she’s good she’ll get to keep her bestest babbeh!
~~
Naturally she selected the plumpest and peepiest chirpy and started feeding him right away, ignoring the rest. Reggie didn’t care and paid no attention. Meanwhile, mummah sang her mummah songs and gave beeeeestest licky cleanies to bestest babbeh.
“Hooway! Mummah wub bestes’ babbeh, an bestes’ babbeh wub mummah!” Darlene was glowing. She had the biggest mummah smile and the happiest mummah huggies. She couldn’t wait to see what color bestes’ babbeh would be! She hoped he’d be a pretty brown like her poor special friend. She’d been brought to the shelter by a human who found her pregnant and tearing through his trash after a cat had disemboweled her special friend while she ran away sobbing. The shelter had been a real blessing, she thought.
None of her babbehs had fluff yet, and Darlene wasn’t big on the whole “bestest babbeh” thing, but since bestest babbeh is also onlyest and lastest babbeh she’s pretty sure it’ll be okay and he won’t turn out dummeh.
She’d been sad to see her other babbehs go, but bestest daddeh Reggie was letting her keep being a mummah! And there he was now! “Hewwo daddeh Wedgie! Dawwene wub ‘ou! Bestes’ wastes’ babbeh am sweepin!” She brought her pudgy hoofy up to her mouth in a crude shushing gesture. Adorable.
“Okay, I’ll be gentle. Can daddy see bestest baby?” She gasps. “Bu’ daddeh nu… Babbeh am tu wittwe fow upsies!” She nods down at her teat where he’s resting. He’s basically asleep, but he’s multitasking due to nipple proximity. “Babbeh nee’ stay wif mummah teeny bit wongew.” She sort of scrunches her eyes down a bit and nods in an effort to look like she’s settled the matter. Maybe she’s trying to convince daddy, but more likely herself.
“Oh no Darlene, you know the rules. You can keep your baby as long as you’re a good fluffy, and good fluffies listen to daddy, okay hon?” He sounded sweet. Honest. Sincere. Darlene made a sort of scaredy-pouty face, but relented. “O-okay daddeh, can gib Bestes’ Wastes’ Babbeh upsies, bu’ pwease onwy gib wittwe upsies! Babbeh stiww weawwy wittwe an’ sensitibe!” Reggie chuckled. “Haha, yeah you got it kiddo. Hand 'im here.” Darlene picked up her baby and gave him a little kissie on his tiny babbeh smeww pwace. She giggled a bit involuntarily. While she had him close, she saw something else! Fluff! And it was brown! Just like special friend! She was so happy. And as she handed bestes’ bwownie babbeh to nice daddy Reggie, she squealed with delight! “Daddeh wook! Babbeh hab pwetty bwown fwuff jus’ wike Dawwene speciaw fwend! Now daddeh can…can see pwetty cowow! Wike Dawwene awways twy teww daddeh!” Foal in hand, Reggie rolled his eyes. No need to keep the act up, he didn’t need anything from her now. No foals to keep alive, and if this guy wants to bottle feed the little fucker, that’s fine with Reggie.
Reggie had heard Darlene try at least ten times every day to explain to him what fucking brown is. Every time he’d say “like poopy?” she’d get so mad. It was honestly pretty funny. He was tempted to make a crack about it now, but he didn’t want to take away from her finding out she doesn’t have any babies.
~~
Reggie stood up and handed you the foal. You put him straight in a mobile incubator you’d rigged up with an old Foal Can. It had heat, milk, and the interior was all lined with fabric from old t shirts of yours to help with imprinting. Still had your smell.
“Daddeh? Daddeh, pwease nu wet nice mistuh gib upsies tu babbeh! Dawwene nu knu nice mistuh, pwease daddeh sabe babbeh!” Reggie laughed. “Sorry Darlene, daddy decided that this nice man could go ahead and raise your baby for you. Isn’t it great? Now he’s gonna have a nice home.” She came unglued. “NUUUUUUU! DADDEH NU TAKE BABBEH! AM ONWY WITTWE BABBEH! AM ONWYEST FING DAWWENE EBEN HAB IN DA WOWD! DAWWENE WUB WITTWE BABBEH! DAWWENE WUB CHOK-” He interrupts her with an open hand slap across her snout. “Hey! What did I tell you?” She’s sprawled over on her side, a bruise dwelling up on her mouth. Reggie gets ahold of the scruff behind her neck and brings her to his face. She’s frozen with fear.
“You don’t get to name the babies. That’s for their real mummahs and daddies.” It was a bridge too far. “Bu…bu daddeh! Dawwene am babbeh mummah! Babbeh am mummah babbeh!” Her eyes faded from panic to sorrow. “Am…am aww Dawwene hab weft ub speciaw fwend Chokwit…” The huu huus were really kicking in. Reggie appeared unmoved.
“Darlene, no. All you have left of your special friend are memories now. That babbeh isn’t your baby. It’s his baby. Either get over it, or I’m dropping your asking price from ‘okay pet’ to ‘furniture that cries’ and putting up an ad on the weird part of Craigslist.” He dropped her roughly. You’d stepped back and passively taken it in. You honestly felt sort of bad. It’s really fucked up to break up a family. You started to reflect on what that says about you. Are you just repeating the same cycles of commodification that led your forefathers to commit atrocities on their fellow man? Will history remember you and those like you as monsters? Will-
Your phone buzzes. Shit, Doordash is early. Gotta get home.
You hand Reggie the nine bucks. He was a bit preoccupied with kicking at Darlene telling her to “quit callin’ yerself ‘mummah’ when you ain’t got no kids no more.” You’re glad you don’t have to deal with that. Still, at least tell her goodbye.
“Nice mistah! Pwease! Teww mummah dat ‘ou take gud cawe ub wastes’ babbeh!” You smile warmly. “Of course, Darlene. He’s going to a loving home. He’ll be very comfortable.” She’s still visibly distressed, but this calms her slightly. “F…fankyu, nice mistah. Wiww…wiww nice mistah du a fabow fow Dawwene? Jus’ a wittwe fabow, nu a big hewpie.” Eh, fuck it. Why not? “Sure. What is it?”
She collects herself. “Babbeh am hab bewy pwetty bwown fwuff. Bwown wike…wike Dawwene bestes’ speciaw fwend. Huuhuuuuuu… Miss speciaw fwend…” She closed her eyes for a moment to stop the tears. “Speciaw fwend am…wewe named Chokwit. Chokwit wike…wike yummeh chokwit nummies! Wiww mistah pwease gib babbeh name Chokwit? An’ teww babbeh 'bout babbeh daddeh Chokwit?”
“Hmmm? Oh, nah. Chocolate is a dumb name, thanks for the idea though! It wouldn’t really fit anyway since I’m gonna dye him blue. Brown isn’t my color.”
She’s shattered. “Bu’ mistah, pwease! If nu wan pwetty bwown babbeh, nu take Dawwene babbeh! Nu take Chokwit! Babbeh hab heawt huwties if nu hab mummah!” Ohhhhh, that makes sense. She’s worried the kid’ll have separation anxiety.
“No, don’t worry. He wasn’t around you for very long, so he won’t even remember your smell by tomorrow. Heck, by the time it’s dark out, he’ll have spent more time with me than with you! So don’t worry, he won’t be sad. He’ll never even know you existed in the first place, so he can’t miss you!”
Oh hey, that’s the guy calling. Fuck, that halal cart moves quick. You nod to Reggie, turning your back and walking out the door in the middle of the fluffy saying something. What was her name? Doris? Eh, doesn’t matter. She’s probably just grateful her baby will be happy.
You’re Darlene. You’re a fluffy. A mummah. Huuu huuuuuuuu No. Not no more. “…” “Goobai Chokwit…”