Babbehs Ch. 3 (by fluffysomething)

You are Angel, and you are excited that you have babies! Well, were excited. They need milkies, and you can’t give any to them!

“Chirp, chirp! Peeeep!” One of the babies peeps, wiggling toward you and stopping at where your milkie-places would be.

“Mummah! Nee hewp! Babbehs nee miwkies, buh nu hab!” You cry out, your human mummah walking downstairs.

“You’re the mother, Angel. I’m sorry, but I can’t help.” She says, sighing and walking back upstairs.

“Nuu-huu-huu! Babbehs nee miwkies! Gib babbehs miwkies NAO!” You shout, getting the attention of your mummah as she puts you in a dark box.

You are Dr. Harriet Roseman, and your idea is working. If all of Angel’s adopted foals go ‘forever-sleepies’, she’ll calm down on the baby idea.

“Wan out. Pwease wet Angew out sowwy-boks?” Angel cries, tapping her hooves against the box.

“No, you yelled at me. We don’t yell at anyone in this house, unless you’re me. You’ll get out in a few minutes.” You sigh as she taps the box again, audibly sobbing.

“Okay, in five minutes. I’ll let you out in five minutes.” You decide, setting a timer and sitting back down.

You are Angel, and you got out of the sorry-box! But, your babies still need milkies. If mummah won’t help, maybe you can do it yourself?


She should beware what she wishes for.
Actually, her begging random pedestrians for miwkies, from a window, perhaps, could also be brutally amusing.