Here it is. Please i need more comments to fuel my braaaiiiin ;D
Byron was beyond pissed. He had already taken the smarty’s herd and tentatively thrown them in a black trashbag and left them in the garage, which he made sure to tie loosely closed, and then placed inside of an old refridgerator box he had. He could her grumbling and owwies and bad fluffies calling him dummeh but he had bigger issues at hand.
He had to tackle the shit before it hardened. He took his trusty shop vacumn into his spare bedroom and was able to suck out most of the liquid shit. It still smelled terrible in here though, and its likely the smell wouldn’t go away on its own. Byron tried everything he could to get rid of the smell, but nothing seemed to work! Luckily, the closet was pretty safe, since he was able to roll up the old plastic sheeting and throw it out. After a few hours he threw in the towel and called a professional company to come steam clean his bedroom. He had no idea where he would get the $500 dollars from to pay for it, but it needed to be done.
Byron went into the bathroom and heard “huuhuuhuu wai noisie munsta twy num gud fwuffies.”
Tangerine’s fluff was soaked in tears, and there were scaredy-poopies all over the bathtub. Byron reached down and gently stroked her backfluff. Tangerine recoiled out of fear. Surely her daddeh would give her the wostest of owwies for all the scardey-poopies! She had to act quickly! She lowered her head down quickly and began numming the bad poopies. Byron was in shock.
“Whoa whoa there dont eat the poopies.” said Byron as he continued petting Tangerine.
“Huuhuu daddeh no hab wostest maddies?” asked Tangerine with tears glistening in her adorable lavender eyes.
“No sweetie, Daddy just had to clean the saferoom, that’s what the noise was.”
After reassuring Tangerine, and cleaning the bad-poopies with some toliet paper, he refilled the water bowl and went back into the garage.
He hadn’t a single clue what to do now. He heard that he could sell meat fluffies relatively cheaply. Even so, it would take month’s before he had $500 dollars, and his credit cards were already getting full as it was. He decided to go to his public library just to get a change of scenery. While he was there, he got a few books about fluffy ownership and maintence, and a few about breeding and best practices. Byron wasn’t much of a bookworm, but you wouldn’t know that if you saw him checkout eight different fluffy related books. Byron decided a fitting punishment would be to breed the fluffies until he recouped his losses, minus expenses of course.
He went back into his garage and surveyed his wood supply. Just barely enough, but it would have to do for now. Byron went about making a set of very cramped pens out of his wood that was going to be his entertainment system–that project had been on hold for half a year anyway so he’d get more wood when he got around to it. He made a set of 12 pens–four wide and three high, and set them up on a fabricated stand so that the lowest level was about a foot off the ground. The pens all had a hole in the back where he would pull their tail through and nail it to the back of the pen. This way, all the shit was guaranteed to remain outside the pens, so Byron didn’t need to treat the inside wood. He left just enough space for a water bottle on the inside. There would be no food bowls, Byron was just going to dump the food in front of them. He took some scrap steel he had from a former home renovation and used it to create a gutter system for the fluffy shit to flow down into a bucket.
Byron made some water bottles for the prisioners by taking old water bottles and melting a plastic straw through the cap, which he bent upwards so that gravity would not cause water to leak all over. He then reconsidered, and made some mounting points outside of the pens, on the door, to hold the water bottles. This way, he could water and feed without leaving the door open.
He unceremoniously took each of the 6 bad fluffies and placed them in a pen, and filled the water bottle.
He left the smarty to watch his herd be imprisioned by a monster daddeh!
The fluffies had a hard time adjusting to being imprisioned in such a fashion. Byron fed them the shit soaked contents of his shop vac until it was empty. At first, they refused to eat it, but hunger and the stink set in. He kept the smarty nailed to the workbench and every third day would void him into the bucket. In the dark of the night, on the first night when Byron fed the prisioners kibble, he laced it with a mild sedative. They were all asleep within minutes. He took this oportunity to check for mares. He found only two mares, which he thoroughly cleaned with dish soap and cold water, and set into new pens. He roughly cleaned the remaining four fluffies, and went back inside to the laundry room sink. Oh, oops, I forgot about the toughie, Byron thought to himself. Oh well, He left the toughie in there–Byron knew he was still alive since he could hear faint huuhuu ing and occasional chirping. He took the grey toughie out of the sink. Its eyes were shut and it was suckling on a hoof. Byron rounded up the other four sleepy stallions and headed off the see Bill the Butcher.
Bill was an old friend, and always gave Bryon a good deal on his meats. Byron knew that specialized fluffy butchers could pay more, but he wanted to help his friend. In total, the five pudgy fluffies netted him fifteen dollars. Byron was glad to be rid of them.