It’s Thursday night you have no work tomorrow and it was decided that your husband and yourself were going to eat out after he finished work. But instead of getting ready for dinner you’re currently trying to remove your foal from under the couch for taking a massive dump on the wall for some reason.
No Dadeh, No wan bafh! The young foal thrashed in the sink as you tried to gently wipe them clean. Then why did you poop all over the wall Crush? Only bad fluffies do that. You’re getting more agitated as he fights against you.
Yuu said we havin sketti fo dinnah, but now you and udder dadeh are going wit out Cwush! Cwush wan sketti! He begins to stamp and kick his hooves in the sink, the drain plug and soap bottle fall in.
You groan as you grab the soap bottle and toss it back on the counter. I said we’d have spaghetti soon, but I’ll tell you know you won’t be having any for awhile. At this point Crush is trying to crawl out the sink sobbing. Nu! Dadeh dummeh dadeh why to Cwush!
At this point your cat has decided to put in their two cents, not because of the poop or the crying foal but for the simple reason it is ten minutes before his food comes from the auto feeder. Rigby please don’t yell, you know it’s coming soon. You firmly say to the animal as Crush continues wiggle violently. Nu! Dadeh wuvs Wigby mowe den Cwush. He sobs more loudly.
Now you’re at your wits end, you grab the fluffy by the middle, toss aside the washcloth, turn on the faucet, and shove his behind right under the stream. He shrieks at the blast of cold water. No wawa cowd, wawa bad! Cwush nu wike!
The noise is unbearable, you feel your heart pounding in both ears, everything seems muffled. The crying, the meowing, the running water. At this point you can’t be sure if you are shouting your pleas for quite or simply thinking them.
But suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder and you flinch, quickly turning and snapping at the owner of the appendage with a hasty What! It’s your husband, looking scared, as if you were about to hit him. You never have, you never would. You begin fumbling your apology when the sounds around you start to return and you hear a sputtering cough.
There is Crush, neck deep in water mired by pony filth, desperately trying to stand against the side of the sink sobbing apologizes. It takes a second to process that the drain plug had fallen too, you yank it out. Guilt, fear, shame, and many other emotions flood your mind as you go back and forth between your frightened husband and the pleading foal.
Tears well up in your eyes as you rush for the door. Not hearing your husband beg you not to leave, he turns and looks at the couch and coffee table moved, the droplets of poop leading to the area Crush had sprayed with excrement. He gently rinses the poop water off the fluffy and wraps him in a large towel.
He dries the fluffy while it still cries for forgiveness, gently places him back in his safe spot, and starts cleaning the mess in the apartment. Worrying if you are safe.