Abandoned Angel
Part 22: Winner Winner Chicken Dinner
The mid-winter thaw finally hit. The cold snap relented, finally. While it was not spring, that was still some time away, it was warm enough for the snow to melt. This also brought out the surviving wild herds. The ferals could move again, roaming for food and shelter. Green grass peeked through the disappearing snow. The snow yielded many dead fluffies frozen in forever sleepies, the bright cheerful colors of their fluff a stark contrast to the cold death that blanketed the now emerging bodies.
Nearly every house on the block had a dead fluffy somewhere on the property. Robert’s was no exception, the frozen body of a pink and blue fluffy sat against his porch. Robert exited his car and waved at his neighbor, Larry. “Hey, Larry. How’s it going?”
“It’s going good. First thaw clean up, you know how it is.” Larry shoveled up a pile of snow and mud and fluff, unceremoniously dumping the mess into the red recycle bin, red for biological material. That was a thing now as it turned out garbage men did not want to deal with dead fluffies in residential trash cans, not that Robert blamed them. It was mandatory for any dead fluffy to be left in the red bin at the end of the driveway. Robert surmised that the carcasses were burned or composted, he never cared enough to verify his guesses.
Robert kicked off his shoes and tossed his coat on the couch. Mondays sucked. That wasn’t entirely true. He didn’t hate his job, it wasn’t difficult or demanding. If anything it was boring and he was good at what he did. Middle management red tape bureaucratic bullshit peddler. While not his official title, it covered all the bases. “Fluffies, I’m home!” He yelled from the kitchen. Muffled shouts of “Daddeh!” and the pitter patter of leathery pads on the safe room door floated down the hall.
Every morning and every evening, before he even ate dinner, he prepared his fluffies food. Kibble, leafy greens, and a bit of fruit. Once, and only once, he ate his dinner in front of Angel before feeding her. That incident began with begging and ended up with a swatting and crying. He didn’t want the new additions to beg. Robert carried the two dishes down the hall.
“DADDEH!” Robert could clearly hear their shouts, “Wan daddeh!” He almost felt bad. Almost. He was gone for ten hours a day for work. The foals were too young to be left alone with the run of the house. Angel had been well behaved enough to allow her the run of the house, but with the foals not even two weeks old, all four had to be left locked up for the day.
“I’m opening the door, move it.” He heard shuffling and swung open the door. Toys, toys everywhere! “Hey, what’s this?”
The fluffies ignored him and hugged at his legs, a cacophony of “wub daddeh,” and “huggies” and “pway” and “upsee, daddeh” filled the air.
“No dinner until the toys are picked up.” Robert sternly admonished his little herd.
“Buh daddeh,” Angel whined, “wan huggies. Wan nummies.”
“I don’t care. Pick up the toys.”
Angel pouted and nudged Bright and Robin with a hoof, waving at the toys. “Puh bwoks in bawks,” Angel commanded and Robin went straight to a block, nudging it towards the box. Bright watched Angel wave her legs with amusement. It took him a moment to realize what she was getting at. Once it clicked in his tiny fluffy brain he trotted over to help his brother.
Angel looked up at her daddeh, “Dewe, aww cwean. Nummies?”
“Angel. Go help them. Now.”
“Dummeh babbehs pway wif bwoks, nu Angel!” It wasn’t fair! She didn’t make the mess, the babbehs did! She stomped her hoof in anger. Why didn’t daddeh understand?
Robert didn’t respond as he watched Bright and Robin put away the toys. The foals were good fluffies, disabled or not. Brave was quickly becoming his favorite, with his quiet and mellow personality. The blind unicorn liked to lay about and wasn’t rambunctious, much like himself. He liked all the foals, but he took quite a liking to Brave.
Angel puffed out her cheeks, still upset. She wanted to eat. She wanted to play. She wanted her daddeh to shower her with attention and love and he comes home and yells at her. She just didn’t understand.
Bright and Robin put the last of the blocks away and ran back, their tiny legs moving as fast as they could. Robin silently hugged at his daddeh’s leg. Bright shouted, the deaf foal never knowing just how loud he really was, “WUB DADDEH!”
Robert sat the dishes down, they’ll learn fast enough that they don’t eat until they clean up their toys. The foal ran to the dishes. Angel tried to run yet suddenly found her hooves not touching the ground. “Angel, you were a bad fluffy. No dinner.”
“Angel nu bad fwuffy!” How was she the bad fluffy? She just wanted food and love! She tried to writhe free from Robert’s grasp to no avail. “Angel nee nummies, tummy owies!” He held her firmly, hunger or no, she needed to learn. He wondered if she was typical, as some lessons didn’t seem to sink in.
“Don’t care. Nope. You don’t get dinner.” She started whining, her legs running in the air. He held her, not close and comforting, waiting for the foals to finish eating. “Brave, Robin,” he didn’t bother calling Bright, “Angel isn’t getting dinner. Do you know why?”
Robin couldn’t answer, but Brave was quick, and smart , “Angel nu puh away bwoks.” It made Robert wonder if Robin was not blind would the fluffy have become a smartie. “Angel nu wisten tu daddeh.”
“ANGEL NU BAD FWUFFY!” She yelled, to the foals. To her daddeh. To herself.
Robert grabbed her muzzle, silencing her yelling. “Boys, every day, before I feed you, the toys have to be put away into the box or no food. Understand?”
Brave and Robin nodded. Bright looked between his brothers and his daddeh, the perpetual confused look on his face. He did notice that daddeh looked happier when they nodded so he did the same. He wanted so badly to make his daddeh happy!
Robert carried Angel out, closing the door behind him. He brought his Pegasus to the cold garage. “Do you know why we’re here?” He released his grip.
“Daddeh dun wub Angel.” She was upset, shaking, her eyes tearing up.
“That’s not true at all.” Robert didn’t put Angel down nor did he try to calm her. “I love you very much. But you were a bad fluffy. “
“Angel nu bad fwuffy!” He set her down on the cold cement and opened the side door. “Daddeh! Cowd on hoofsies! Nu wike!” He returned with the sorry box. The weather had been too cold to spray it off with the hose. There was no way he would wash that thing off on the inside of the house either. It reeked of blood and shit. Angel sniffed at the air, “Nu smeww pwetty, wat…” Her eyes went wide at the sight of the box.
“NU! ANGEL NU BAD FWUFFY!” She started screaming and ran to the door for the house, her tiny hooves hitting at the door, “Bad doow! WET IN!” He sat the box on the floor in the middle of the room, the snow and shit melting into a puddle from the warmth. The odor was absolutely foul.
Robert grabbed Angel again, holding her eye level, her wings fluttering against his hands in fear. “You are going in the sorry box.”
“Huuu…” She started to sob softly, her blue fur wet around her eyes.
“Do you know why you are going into the sorry box?”
“Daddeh…” She sniffled, terrified, “daddeh dun wub Angel?”
“That’s not true, I love you very much. Why are you going into the sorry box?”
She wailed, “Angel nu know!”
Robert sighed. Was she stubborn or stupid? Did she really forget the rules, did she really forget disobeying him just moments ago? “Did you pick up your toys like I told you to?”
“Nu… Babbeh’s pway wif bwoks, nu Angel!”
“What were the new rules?” Maybe he could make her figure it out herself if he led her down the right thought path.
She was quiet for a moment, the box forgotten as she tried to remember. “Be gud to babbehs.”
“And?”
“Puh bwoks in bawks.” Her eyes closed, squeezing out tears, “nu am bad fwuffy.” She whined and wimpered.
“You didn’t listen to me. You argued. You.” With each word he flicked her nose. “You.” Flick. “Are.” Flick. “A.” Flick “Bad.” Flick. “Fluffy.” Her nose swelling, tears falling freely.
“Nu. NU! OWIES! Gib huggies! Nu wan sowwy bawks!” Robert held her in front of the opening. The smell of blood and shit overwhelming. “Pwease, daddeh! PWEASE!” Her body heaved and shudder, her hind legs covered in scary poopies. “Daddeh! WUB ANGEL! GIF WUB! NU SOWWY BAWKS!” It never failed to impress Robert the volume their little bodies could produce.
He shoved her body into the box rear first to avoid getting her shit on his hands. “Why are you in the sorry box?” Robert asked as he firmly shut the door, her fluff peeking out the grates.
“Daddeh nu wub Angel.” She started full on crying.
Fuck. Sometimes she just didn’t get it. Robert spent twenty minutes watching Angel, not responding to her begging. He didn’t hurt her, except the flicking on the nose, but from her crying and begging it sounded like he had beaten her. She would be in pain soon, it was too cramped for Angel to lay down and her legs were forced into awkward angles.
Robert opened the door to the house, he had other fluffies to spend time with. “Good night, Angel.” The cold garage went dark.