Micro fluffies are a terrific apartment pet. All the adorable fun of fluffies with a fraction of the cleanup! You can give them fun terrariums, vertical Nutrigel colonies, even just a shoebox if you aren’t looking for their approval.
You’ve seen the flair, you know what I’m about.
I have a standing order from MicroCo. Despite their clumsy name, they’re excellent at punctuality with my weekly deliveries. I go through micros pretty quick, so a regular supply is a godsend. The ones I got three days ago should be ready for “harvest” by now.
I pick up the foal I’m raising. He’s a red unicorn whose mane hasn’t come in yet, and his name is Donner. I’m teaching him to eat babbehs.
He doesn’t know that, but it’s what’s happening.
I’ve been feeding him fluffy meat since he weaned and today he’s finally big enough to eat one of the younger microfluffs. My hope is that by training him to view fluffies smaller than him as food he’ll grow to just instinctively eat foals. If this works, he’ll be a terrific garbage disposal for my micros.
He’s slow to wake, nuzzling my hand as I bring him into my office. I sit down in my chair and roll over to the Micro Tank. “Hey buddy, you awake?” He stretches his little legs and peeps a yawn at me. “Am bwite time awweddy? Babbeh suuuu hungwy, daddeh!” Good. I set him down in a partitioned area of the micro enclosure. It’s well padded and has some small toys and foal furniture. Naturally it’s still a bit big for these Micros, but they’ve been pestering me about it for two days. Now this giant babbeh is in there, and the Smarty is confused.
He comes plodding out of the styrofoam cup you left in their sparse environment. You gave them a “howsie” so they’d stop crying about “bad sky wawa comin” and eat the gel blocks you left for them. They’d finished the last of it last night, and you’d been giving them pretty hearty rations so they were pretty tubby. “Hewwo hoomin, hewd hungwy. Wan nummies nao! Hoomin hafta gif ow get huwties!” Adorable. He’s even stomping to show how serious he is. His special friend and the other mares and stallions are all murmuring amongst themselves about “wai babbeh su biggies” and “how time tiww sketties?”
So I interrupt them by picking up the mare with the most babbehs, a blue pegasus paired with one of the tuffies. About half her babbehs fall off, but that leaves four clinging to her fluff. She’s shrieking and thrashing with all the force of a housefly when I drop her on Donner. He looks up. “Daddeh? Wai gif Donnew wittow fwuffy fwends?” I pat his head reassuringly, ignoring the quiet racket the micros are stirring up. Mummah is getting her bearings, and bestest babbeh fell off when I dropped her. He’s stuck in Donner’s mane.
"No buddy, they just LOOK like fluffies. They’re nummies, like you’ve been having! But they’re nummie toys you can play with! Isn’t that so fun?" His eyes light up at the mention of toys. All babbehs love toys. “Hooway! Fankyu daddeh, Donnew wub nyu nummie fwends!”
He stood over the mare who was begging and pleading, but too distressed to finish sentences. “Sowwy nummie fwend. Wan pway gamesies, bu Donnew hab tummeh huwties an wan gud nummies.” It’s at this point that bestest babbeh summited Donner’s head and fell down to his mummah. Luckily, he landed in her soft fluff. Unluckily, Donner saw.
“Su sowwy, nummie fwend! Donnew nu mean be wude, nummie fwend shud hab nummies fiwst.” He motioned towards the three babbehs the mare had piled in the corner while panicking trying to find bestest babbeh, and she recoiled. “Wat? NU! Dose am babbehs! Nu fow nummies!” Donner puffed his cheeks and stomped a little, just like I’d taught him to do. “Dummeh nummie fwend! Ou betta num aww ou wittow nummies wite nao ow Donnew hafta gib wowstest huwties!” The mare slumped over. She was too tired for this. She hadn’t been awake long and already things were going so wrong. She didn’t want to eat her own children, let alone bestest babbeh! But she didn’t want to die either.
Sobbing, she resigned herself to what had to he done and approached the babbeh pile with Bestest on her back. They looked up at their beloved mummah with bright smiles and wet eyes. “Hooway! Mummah come back fow babbehs! Hab miwkies?” The mare just sat down in front of them and cried for a moment before picking up her brown daughter.
“Su sowwy poopie babbeh, mummah awways wub ou, bu big scawy munstah teww mummah tu haf nummie babbehs huhuhuuuu.” The filly started freaking. “Nu! Nu num babbeh! Mummah, nu be munstah! Wai mummah hate babbeh?” She couldn’t take more of the diatribe and bit the poor child’s head off. This was when her other three babies went nuts.
The two on the ground were scrambling and waddling to escape, and bestest was going all Shadow of the Colossus on mummah. “Dummeh munstah mummag num sissy! Mummah hafta take sowwy hoofies and wowstest poopies ebba!” He started shitting on her head and it dribbled down her face. When it got in her eye, she bucked and he fell forward, landing on his sister’s headless corpse.
Mummah decided she couldn’t do this with them screaming, so she started stomping. Bestest escaped, the others didn’t. They’d worn themselves out trying to run, and when mummah brought her hoofies down, there was nothing they could do.
She chased bestest over to the edge of the partition. He hesitated trying to decide which way to go, and while he was asking his weggies their opinion, mummah caught him and lifted him in her mouth by his neck scruff. “Nuuuuu! Mummah, nu huwt bestest babbeh! Nu wan be nummie babbeh!” Mummah had no answer. No apology. She had a sharp flick of her neck back to send him airborne, and a corresponding chomp to catch his upper half when he fell. With a wet “crunch,” her bestest babbeh was gone, replaced with a belly, some genitals, two legs, and a tail.
And her herd saw all of it.
She’d been consumed with survival and hadn’t even realized. Her special friend was beating himself bloody on the glass and screaming epithets. Her babbehs that had been lucky enough to fall off on the way UP were hugging and consoling each other, sobbing at the grisly fate of their siblings.
Donner picked up the mare, who started screaming. “Nu! Ou say nu huwt mummah if mummah num babbehs! Nu num mummah, pway wif mummah! Pwease!” Donner looked confused. “But dat was pwaytime, nummie fwend! Ou got tu pwetend be weaw fwuffie an num awwwwww da nummie fwends!” He looked over her shoulder at the barrier where the herd looked in horror and noticed her other babbehs. “Nu wowwy, ou uddah nummie babbehs wiww get tu pway fow wongew befow nummie time. But nao Donnew hungwy! Goobai nummie fwend!” She was screaming and about to condense the screams into words when Donner chomped her like a candy bar.
I’m a good dad.