Jitters sat at Loretta’s kitchen table, staring sullenly at the mug of decaffeinated tea in his hand. His fingers twitched in an agitated tremble against the ceramic surface.
“I keep telling you, man, you need to talk to your doctor about putting you on some anxiety meds. Or at least cut back on the energy drinks and coffee…” Loretta sighs, pouring the hot water into her own mug. “It’s so ironic that someone like you, who has the anxiety levels of a neurotic chihuahua, is obsessed with shit like analogue horror stories and cryptids. You do realize that none of that helps your nerves, right?”
“There’s a difference between fantasy and real life horrors, you know…” He grumbles, sipping the bitter tea before stirring in a spoonful of sugar.
“Yeah, yeah… Fluffies really seem to tap dance on that line like it’s their job, huh?”
Jitters only frowns, letting the grounding sensation of mug’s warmth seep into his fingers. “I don’t understand, how the fuck were these things made to be for children?”
“They weren’t.” Loretta casually responds. Jitters looks up at her, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You remember those old articles and commercials before the whole raid on Hasbio? They were originally supposed to be genetically engineered ponies identical to the characters in the show, made for elitist families, a fancy ‘pet product’ to flaunt your wealth sort of deal. Ever since the outbreak all we got now is what remains of an unfinished product. Sure, they may be advertised for children, but they’re really just failed genetic abominations that Hasbio is still trying to clean up and make a profit off of after taking such a huge hit to their finances.”
“That’s horrible…” He says, sipping his tea.
“That’s Jurassic Park body horror made reality.” Loretta shrugs. “Instead of kick ass dinosaurs tearing people apart limb from limb, we got dumb ass fluffy ponies with terrible body proportions, fucked up bowel systems, and the brain capacity ranging from entitled toddlers to middle school children complete with the lack of empathy and raging hormones.”
“Fucking hell… They can’t all be that bad, right? Why else would anyone want them?”
“Well, I mean…” Loretta sighs, trying to find her words. “Some of them actually make pretty good pets, if you raise them and train them right. Same could be said for any high maintenance pet, or hell, even a human kid. It really all depends on their personality, your teaching, and routine.” She shrugs again, shaking her head and glancing over to the hall were her separate safe rooms were located. “But in cases of fluffies with BMS or Smarty Syndrome, it takes a lot more work… Lady Bell in there is one of the worst cases I’ve seen.”
“You think you’ll actually be able to cure her?” He asks, finishing his tea before pouring himself another cup.
“It’s worth a shot. Bitch’s definitely gonna get what’s coming to her at the very least.” She chuckles menacingly, sipping her tea.
Jitters thinks for a moment, a nagging thought prickling his mind. “You said she was a domestic, more specifically a pageant pony.”
“Yeah?”
“That means she most likely has or had an owner. Any clue you can track them down?”
“What, you want me to try and return her?” Loretta asks, frowning. “With how she acts I wouldn’t be surprised if she was dumped into the wild.”
“Why do that if she’s a pedigree breed?” Jitters counters. “Why not just pillow her and force her to breed? Why waste that much money on a custom designer fluffy only to drop it off in an alley?”
“So she’s likely a runaway. In that case, why wouldn’t the owner track her down with her chip? designer fluffs are always chipped in case of runaways.”
“Maybe she lost it somehow?”
Loretta stops to think on his words. “Shit. It sounds highly unlikely, but…”
“I just wanna make sure we think all of this through before you start treatment.” He explains, watching the steam rise from his mug in swirling patterns. “If we don’t cover all our bases we could land in some serious hot water, legally… You could even get your license taken if they choose to sue you for damages.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright. I’ll check if she’s chipped, plus I’ll do some searching to see if there’s a missing ad about her on any show fluff forums.” Loretta sits back with a huff. She couldn’t blame Jitters for wanting to be cautious. If she did manage to cure Lady Bell and put her up for sale, the original owner could come down on her with claims of thievery and who knows what the fuck else. Pageant parents were a whole other level of drama she did NOT want to deal with… This stupid fucking fluffy just HAD to prove herself to be an even bigger thorn in her side.
Feeling considerably better after finishing their tea, the two decided to get up and check on Trixie and the alicorn foal. The two were doing well. Trixie was humming softly as the tiny foal was snuggled into her fluff, spotting Loretta, the pink haired unicorn cheerfully raised her head and loudly whispered. “Hewwo Mummah ‘Wetta! Mus’ be quiet, babbeh am sweepin’!”
Loretta smiles and gestures for Trixie to come over to the gated doorway. As Trixie carefully got up from her nest, making sure to keep the foal balanced on her fluff before trotting over and receiving a reward of pets and chin scritches. “Good job, Trixie. You helped out so well!”
Trixie giggles, delighted to have assisted her human mummah with the baby.
“Can you let me have the baby for a bit? I didn’t get a chance to write down it’s information earlier, so it’s time for it’s check-up.”
Trixie hums, a little unsure. “Nu gon’ gib babbeh pokey huwties?”
Loretta shakes her head with a wave of her hand. “No, no, it’s far too little for shots right now. Those’ll be later, when it’s a talkie-baby. I just need to put it on the scale to take measurements and see if it’s a colt or a filly.”
Trixie perks up, enthusiastically trusting her owner and reaching to carefully roll the foal off her fur and hold it. “Ohh! Otay! Twixie know!! Twixie hewp!”
The foal squirms, fussy that it was awoken from it’s sleep. “Sowwy fo’ waksies babbeh, bu’ Mummah 'Wetta need ‘ou fo’ impowtant check-up!” The unicorn coos, comforting the foal before presenting the young alicorn to Loretta. “Babbeh am byootifuw cowt!”
“A colt?” Loretta repeats, watching Trixie nod her head enthusiastically as she takes the foal in her hands. "I’ll write that down. Very helpful, thank you, Trixie.
Trixie giggles and does a giddy dance, tapping her hooves and wiggling her legs in delight as Loretta stands. “Alright, we’ll be right back.”
“Otay!!”
Following Loretta back into the preparation room, Jitters retrieves the clipboard detailing Lady Bell’s litter information as Loretta takes the foal’s measurements.
“Let’s see here… Healthy appetite, creamy-white alicorn, male, healthy bowel release, aand… 3 ounces. Needs a little weight gain, but other than that this guy is good to go!”
“Dummeh munstah…” Lady Bell’s voice grumbles from within her kennel.
“Shut up.” Jitters retorts, finishing writing the colt’s information down.
“Here, hold him.” Loretta orders, plopping the foal into Jitters’ hand before moving to confront Lady Bell. “Are you chipped?”
“Wha?”
“Chipped, did your owner have you chipped?” Loretta asks, gesturing to the back of her neck.
Lady Bell takes a few moments to register the question when it finally clicks. “Duh! Dummeh Wady, o’ couwse Daddeh hab doctew gib Wady Beww Safie Chipies! Bu’ Wady Beww nu hab it nu mowe.”
“Why? What happened to it?”
“Wady Beww speshuw fwen wip it ou’.” Lady Bell casually answers.
“He… Ripped it out?” Loretta reiterated, skeptical that a feral, stray fluffy would know where or how to remove a domestic’s tracking chip.
“Yus! Was assid…ack-si-… He nu mean tu! Was suuu stwong!” Lady Bell practically swoons in her cell, eye lashes fluttering at the memory.
“Wady Beww wan’ find speshuw fwen, bu’ Owd Daddeh say Wady Beww hab tu wait an’ am onwy tu hab bestest speshuw fwen fo’ tu gib bestest babbehs! Su Wady Beww wait fo’ fowebahs, and nu wan wait nu mowe! Wady Beww went outsies, tu go find bestest speshuw fwen! Bu’ outsies was fuww o’ dummeh ugwy fwuffies! Nu gud ‘nuff fo’ Wady Beww tu gib speshuw huggies! Wady Beww had to gib dummehs wostest owwies, heeheehee! No mowe speshuw stickies for dummeh ugwy fwuffies! Onwy wan bestest stawwion fo’ bestest speshuw huggies!”
“Den Wady Beww found him! Was biggest, scawiest stawwion EBAH! He nu pwetty, bu’ he am STWONG. He cwush poopy fwuffy’s thinky pwace wike squishie fwuit!” Lady Bell giggles, biting her lip as she squirms. “He nu wan’ Wady Beww, bu’ Wady Beww make him wan Wady Beww. Find his speshuw fwen an’ wait tiww he gu find nummies, den make her get nummed by vwoomy-munstah! Den Wady Beww hab him aww tu sewf! heeheehee! He was suuu saddies! Wady Beww pwomise tu make his heawt huwties gu ‘way. Speshuw fwen gib BESTEST, STWONGEST speshuw huggies! Gib bities tu Wady Bewww’s fwuff and wip ou’ safie chipies! Wady Beww hab BESTEST feews!”
Lady Bell became a giggling, squirming mess regaling her story. Drool trickles from the side of her mouth at her fantasizing.
“You are such a fucking disgusting freak of nature…” Loretta scrunched her nose in disgust and rolled her eyes. Looks like she’ll have to do an online search to find Lady Bell’s owner. Fine by her, just means she’ll have to slog through the local pageant fluff entries within the past few years.
Ignoring Lady Bell’s offended whining, she gets up and joins Jitters, who was preoccupying himself by gently petting the alicorn foal in his hands to distract himself from the mental visuals of Lady Bell’s story.
“Hey, let’s go give this little guy back to Trixie.”
Jitters nods, heading back into the hall while keeping an eye on the foal trying to teethe at his fingers. “Actually… Do you think I could keep this one?”
Trixie perks up upon their arrival, having been waiting anxiously for the return of her new baby. “Hewwo 'gain! Can hab babbeh backsies nao?”
Loretta pauses, raising an eyebrow in surprise to his sudden question. “You? Keeping a fluffy?”
Jitters glances over to her. “Yeah? I mean… Maybe, if that’s okay?”
“H-Hewwo? Mummah ‘Wetta? Mistew Jittews? P-Pwease gib back babbeh nao. Am tu wittwe fo’ big uppsies…” Trixie says, tapping her hooves anxiously, trying to get their attention. Her eyes peer up at them, noticing that the foal was no longer in her trustworthy human mummah’s hands, but back in Jitters’ grasp as he was talking about potentially keeping it.
Loretta gives an unsure frown. “I dunno, Jitters, you’re not exactly experienced in the slightest and…” She huffs a sigh, rubbing the back of her neck as she looks at the foal. “Foals require a LOT of care. They need things like a warm nest made of soft material, feeding every hour on the hour at minimum, plus burping and cleaning… TONS of verbal affirmation of love and physical comforts like hugs… And that doesn’t even begin to cover stuff like pee pads, night lights, plush toys, or dietary sensitivities…”
Trixie nods, agreeing with everything Loretta says. “Yus, yus! Babbeh nee’ mummah tuu!”
“Do you even have something like a safe room for it?”
Jitters frowned in disappointment. “No… Not at the moment…”
“Dat am bad. He nu weady mummah. an’ babbeh am tu wittwe tu gu! Gib back tu Twixie, wiww be bettah mummah fo’ babbeh!” She raises her trembling hooves expectantly, forcing a smile as her eye twitches.
Loretta shakes her head disapprovingly. “Thought so. This is something you’d have to really prepare for, if you want it to stay alive, at least. You can’t just decide on a whim if you want one.”
“Yeah… I figured…”
“Look, if you’re really that determined to keep him, you need to make preparations, not just for his safety, but the safety of your own living space too. You can have him then, but in the meantime you’re better off leaving him with-”
“NNUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!! NU TAKE BABBEH!! BABBEH NEE’ MUMMAH!!!”
Both Loretta and Jitters jump at the sudden guttural howl that Trixie emits. The foal squeaks in distress at the loud noise, peeping in fear as droplets of scaredy pee squirt into Jitters’ palm.
Trixie feverishly scrabbles at the baby gate blocking the doorway, her hooves somehow catching purchase in the gaps as she claws her way up.
“NU STEAW BABBEH! AM TWIXIE’S BABBEH! GIB BABBEH BACK NAO!!!”
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Jitters shouts as the unicorn manages to flail her way over the baby gate, practically knocking the whole damn thing over in the process and borderline face planting into the floor. She didn’t let the blunder stop her though. Trixie was on a mission.
She charges at Jitters, who stumbles backwards, holding the foal away as the unicorn manages to bite down on to his pants leg as hard as she can.
“I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU CURED HER?!” He shrieks, his voice cracking as he tries to shake Trixie off.
“I DID!” Loretta answers, just as bewildered and shocked as he was. “She’s never acted like this before!! Trixie! Trixie, calm down!!” She reaches to grab Trixie, wrapping her arms around the unicorn’s middle and trying to pull her off of Jitters. Trixie turned out to be a lot more heavy than expected.
“GET HER OFF! GET HER OFF! GETHEROFF! GETHEROFF!!” Jitters screamed, hearing the tearing of fabric as Trixie shook her head like a dog tearing into a chew toy. His pants leg ripped, giving him leeway to scramble backwards as Loretta struggled to keep a good hold on the berserk fluffy.
“NUUUUUUUUUU!!! BABBEH NEED MUMMAH!!! THIEF! THIEF!! MMUNSTAH STEAW BABBEH!!”
“TRIXIE! CALM DOWN!! HE’S NOT- DAMMIT- STOP!!!” Loretta could barely keep a grip on Trixie as the unicorn thrashed and struggled like a feral cat. No matter what she said, nothing was getting through Trixie’s frenzied mind. She had to defuse the situation and fast, otherwise all hell would break loose and the commotion would cause every other fluffy in her house to go into their own hysterics if they weren’t already.
“JITTERS. OUT. JUST GET OUT NOW, I’LL CALL YOU LATER!”
Jitters did not need to be told twice. He’d already been halfway to the front door already before Loretta ordered him to leave. Stumbling, he managed to catch himself and flung the door open before bolting outside. He tripped on the porch steps, taking a small tumble as the front door closed, muffling the desperate screeches of the feral unicorn.
His heart was pounding in his ears. His breath was heavy. He barely registered the crying foal still safely cradled in his grasp, despite everything. His slacks were ruined. It took a minute for him to even begin to wrangle his racing thoughts.
All Jitters could think was “What the Fuck?”
Loretta and Trixie belong to @UndercoverPallasCat
