Striped Shirt, domino mask, crowbar, black pants and most importantly, a burlap sack labeled “Babbehs.” Maxine was ready to go. Her destination? A neglected foal-in-a-can machine that was off in a corner of a strip mall, far away from heavy foot traffic. The foals that got sent here were almost certainly doomed to die unloved and alone, a fate decided by some bean counter too proud to admit it was a bad location. Tonight, Maxine would fix things by breaking them.
She left her phone at home, packed her bicycle into her oversized pick up truck and drove off once the clock struck midnight. She parked about a mile away from the machine and jumped down from the driver’s seat. The truck was huge and she very much was not. She walked around the back and dragged her bike out from the bed. She’d be traveling by bike for the rest of the way. Concealed by night and moving silently, the odds of her getting caught were low. Not that it’d really matter to her if she was seen but it’d be a huge pain in the ass that she’d rather not deal with.
The vending machine was unlit, the foals inside sleeping soundly. Dreaming of running free and getting the love they so desperately desired. The machine lit up as Maxine approached, playing a jingle sung by a choir of foals, “Foaw ins can! Happeh babbehs foh yu! Foaw ins can! Bestest babbehs, ams twue!”
The foals groggily rose from slumber as the jingle echoed inside their tubes. They all saw Maxine approach and a cacophony of pleas rang out from the machine.
“Pwease buy babbeh!”
“Wan splowe! Wan wuns ans pway!”
“Huuuhuu nee huggies”
“Ams goodie babbeh nu wan foheba sweepies huuhuu”
The anguish of the innocent babbehs made Maxine’s heart hurt. “Hello little fellas. I’m here to bring all of you home. Be new mummah for every fluffy here.”
There were cheers and cries of happiness. Most of them had given up hope of ever leaving their cans alive.
“Waow!”
“Thankies new mummah! Wub! Wub yu su muches!”
“Babbeh nuh can bewiebes, ams dis thinky pwace pictuwe?”
“But, I gotta make some scary loud noises. I need you all to be good fluffies and try not to get too scared, ok?” She was almost positive the poor things were going to start filling the waste dispensers as soon as she got started but at least they got some warning. She crept around the back and reached for the power cable. “Oh, and it’s gonna get dark for a while. Just close your eyes and think of huggies, ok?”
She ripped the cord from the wall.
“Scawwy!”
“Tuu dawk!”
“Huuuhuuu wai dis happens tu fwuffy ams good babbeh waaaai”
“Going about as well as I thought.” She thought to herself. She took the crowbar from the sack and started prying at the edges. Too much movement or breaking the machine in the wrong way could crack open a can and get a foal full of glass.
Slowly but surely the casing was breaking free. The foals whimpered with every creak. It was so, so dark. The gentle lights of the idling machine were their only comfort and now even that was taken from them.
Carefully opening the vending machine like a can, Maxine crept along the edges. Then she found the latch and realized she could have just broken that part open and saved a lot of hassle. She knocked once on the lock, popping the machine’s door open.
“See? Easy peasy. Hello babbehs.” She said as she picked up a can. The poor foal inside was cowering from the dark.
“Nuh cans see babbeh. Nuh cans see babbeh…” It repeated over and over.
Maxine bit her lip and placed the can in her burlap sack. Next trip, maybe a bit less commitment to the bit and get something that isn’t going to be pitch black in side. Maybe something with cushioning so the cans don’t rub or clank against each other. Live and learn.
Can after can was placed in the sack. Some of the residents were clearly deceased but at the very least she could use them to help fix other fluffies. Some part of them would live on. No comfort to the dead but attaching limbs was far easier than making new ones.
Her sack bulging with cans and whimpering fluffies, Maxine hefted the bag over her back and hopped on her bike. Once again, in hindsight maybe something less unbalanced than a burlap sack would be ideal for any future raids. Once again, live and learn.
She pedaled hard in the dark, trying to counteract the swaying of the burlap babbeh sack. Her bike wobbled back and forth on the road but thankfully she didn’t have far to go. She loaded the sack up in the passenger seat, her bike in the back, and her ass at the wheel. So far so good. Now she just had to get home and try to ignore the crying bag next to her. And then uncan like 25 fluffies. And get them clean, fed, and checked for injuries. It was going to be a long night.
Green Meadows Shelter was new and completely empty of fluffies save for Maxine’s own pair. Built into a section of an abandoned food production facility they had room to expand and then some. The place was sprawling and bought on the cheap due to a lack of interest in production in the region. Bought and paid for with a bit of insurance fraud, tonight would be its first test. Maxine couldn’t help being a little nervous but stolen fluffies going to the crime shelter felt like a solid beginning.
The overhead doors of the loading dock lit up, waking up two fluffy mares. Eclair was chocolate brown with big poofy afro pigtails. The other, Cherry, was a pink and white alicorn. Both had been waiting patiently for their mummah to return with the most precious cargo of all. Babbehs.
Of course, both of them had fallen asleep like five minutes after their mummah had left but they did give it an honest effort. It was past their bedtime, ok?
“Chewwy! Ams doow!” Eclair said excitedly. She was promised the first pick of the babbehs and she was so excited she could puke, “Babbehs, Chewwy. Babbehs.”
Cherry groaned and rose to her hooves. This would be the first actual rescues that the shelter would bring in and it was very important but she also really would prefer to be sleeping. Unlike her sister, she didn’t particularly care all that much about babbehs. Trauma from being the sole survivor of a particularly gruesome attack had left her with reservations towards attachment as she grew older. Still, it was important to mummah and Eclair so she put on a brave face. “Yu membew what mummah saids tu do? Nee gets wawas wawm ans tuwn ons bwites.”
Eclair was bouncing about and clearly not listening. She had recently grown milkie places from supplements that induced lactation and was beyond the moon that she’d get to make use of them. “Babbehs! Gun gib miwkies!”
Cherry yawned and smiled tiredly. She could handle the to-do list herself, there wasn’t much on it. She hopped up a stepstool and turned on a faucet, turned on all the lights in the dock and trotted back over to Eclair. Mummah’s truck was pulling in. Cherry braced herself. Mummah had warned her there might be babbehs already too far gone to save.
Maxine hopped out of the truck and waved to her fluffies. Eclair was doing her best “Mummah dancies” and Cherry was sitting on her haunches with tired droopy eyes. Walking around to the passenger side of the car, she closed the garage door. “Ok girls, going to be a long one. These foals are gonna be scared, excited, and all sorts of other things so we gotta be patient with them.”
As soon as the passenger side door opened she was hit by the wailing of terrified babbehs. “Shhh, it’s ok. You’re almost free.” she said as she dragged the bag out of the car. She shimmied down the truck and lamented having such a large car. She got it for the best price possible, free, but it was still far too big for her. She hefted the bag of babbehs over her shoulder for the last time and made her way to the un canning station she had set up ahead of time.
Tables, towels, a play pen set up with milk dispensers and litter, and a cooler packed with ice for anyone who didn’t make it.
She opened up the bag and started placing cans on the table. The babbehs immediately stopped crying once they saw light again.
“Waow. Wat ams dis pwace?” said the first babbeh to be taken from the bag.
“Your new home, silly. Just be patient and I’ll be getting you out of that can soon.”
The foal was awestruck and wiped away the tears on his snout. He greeted the next can with a wave, “Hewwo cansie bwudda! Awmost fwee!”
The can had a chirpy who wiggled around in confusion, trying to find where its mummah was. The first foal giggled, “Siwwy babbeh. Wub babbeh bwudda.”
Can after can came out of the sack. 25 babbehs in various states were on the table. Maxine took a towel and opened the first can. “Alright babbeh, come to mummah. See my hand? It’s all right.”
The foal was excited and scared in equal measure. It had never left its can before, even the notion was seemingly absurd. But his new mummah was right there. He would be ok. He waddled forward, his legs not used to much movement. Mummah had tilted the can toward her hand and he tumbled forward, ripping the catheter out of his special place.
“Scree! Wowstest huwties!!!” the babbeh cried as it tumbled head over hoof onto Maxine’s hand. The poor thing peed onto the towel as it sobbed from pain. It wasn’t over yet. The waste disposal tube came out of him with a pop and even more pain. Poopies trickled out and he cried even more. “Wai, wai huwties???”
The crowd watching from the table looked at the display in horror. This was supposed to be happy good times, not hurty bad times! They cried in terror, “Huuuu, nu huwt babbeh!”
“Shhh, it’s ok little man. All the hurties are done.” She wiped off the foal with the towel and brushed his mane with her finger, “See? You’re free!”
The foal sniffled and looked around the room. He wasn’t in his can. His rear hurt still, quite a lot really, but the notion that his world had grown so much bigger pushed everything else away. “Ams… fwee. AMS FWEE! Bwuddas! Sistahs! Babbeh ams fwee!”
The babbehs still in the cans did an immediate 180 in emotion. “Bwudda! Bwudda! Yu dids it!”
The little colt was peacocking for his audience as Maxine looked him over for any obvious problems. A bit of trauma on his nu-nu stick but nothing that wouldn’t heal. “Ok, now you get to meet your new fluffy mummahs.”
The little foal’s mind exploded. “Mowe mummahs!?” He’d never had any mummahs, and now he gets more than one? It was an embarrassment of mummahs. He was now rich in mummahs. Wealthy in mummahs.
Eclair and Cherry had helped themselves into the play pen and were watching closely. “Chewwy. Dat ams babbeh. Awe babbeh. Waow. Waow.”
Maxine knelt down and handed the babbeh off to Eclair who immediately smothered the little guy in a flurry of hugs, “Hewwo babbeh! Ams nu mummah! Hewwo! Wub yu!”
The babbeh was overwhelmed but happier than he could ever remember. He returned the hug, crying tears of joy, “Dis ams bestest times ebah!”
After a quick rinsing of her hands, Maxine went back over to the tablet to start the process anew.
Babbeh was holding on as hard as he could. He was tired. So so tired. His poopie place hurt. His lungs burned. His tummy was empty, it had been for days. But he was so close to being free. He watched as the mummah opened can after can. He had to hold on.
It was his turn. His vision was blurry and his little body was wracked with pain. He cried, but not out of pain. The lid opened and he slid out onto the palm of the mummah. He breathed deep and hugged the hand of his liberator. His body gave out moments after, a smile on his face. He died free with a mummah who loved him. It was all he ever wanted.
It was a story that would repeat 3 more times through the night. Babbehs on their last legs holding out just long enough to taste fresh air. They all went with a smile.
Maxine sighed and wrapped the babbeh in a paper towel and gently put him in a cooler for later. A tragedy sure, but it was clear that the little man was happy. She reached for another can and popped open the lid.
“Hewwo! Ams dancie babbeh!” the tiny foal said with a big grin.
“Well, do me a favor and dance on over here.”
The foal obliged, shuffling its way down the tube and onto her hand. Pop went the poop tube and psss went the catheter. The babbeh just kept on dancing through the pain. This babbeh lived to dance and she finally had a real audience. She was wiped down and handed off to Cherry, “I think you’ll like this one, real character.”
Cherry yawned and looked down at the babbeh. Still dancing. Cherry chuckled and danced back. The foal giggled, “Dancie mummah! Hewwo!”
At the end of it all, the shelter had received 14 live foals. 4 died after being released, the stress of transport causing their already taxed bodies to give out. 7 were dead from the onset having passed from either starvation, an over filled waste compartment, or any combination of the two. More than half rescued from what was surely going to be a death sentence if left alone.
The cooler full of deceased foals was placed into refrigerated storage. She’d figure out what to do with them later. For now, she had a tiny herd to deal with. The foals were running around playing and giggling. Dancie babbeh was somehow still dancing. Her mares were smiling and laughing.
Maxine stepped over the wall of the playpen and settled in for the night. She did good, and despite some losses and terrible planning on her part things ended up okay. Cherry and Eclair snuggled up next to her, the foals all following suit. 1 Maxine, 2 Mares, and 14 babbehs. Green meadows was off to a good start.
Gimme names for babbehs and I might even remember them :v