Clint hovered over the confused Smarty, not much holding him back from just ripping him apart for what he had done to his pets. But that would be too easy, not enough punishment, no lesson in that. In your left hand, a DIY Pillower. The other was a Cleaver. You asked a simple question to Napoleon, one even a Fluffy would understand.
“Fast or Slow?”
The hesitant Fluffy just looked at you in a mix of fear and confusion. “I’m not going to ask again Napoleon. so choose.” It was no wonder why he was confused, The Fluffy had no idea what you were going to do. were you going to kill it? going to Pillow it? or were you just going to miraculously begin to follow the Smarty’s every command and wish? No, a thousand times no. But to your surprise he was defiant even now. “D-Dummeh M-Monstah Daddeh! W-wet Napoweon gu ou’side! Wet s-Smawty gu!”
Itch. Itch. Itch.
Napoleon had chosen. "Okay Napoleon. Ill let you out. But you still haven’t answered my question. Napoleon couldn’t believe what was just said. He would get to go free? He wouldn’t get Fowevew Sweepies? “… Napoweon weawwy get tu go?”
Itch. Itch. Itch.
“Really, Ill let you out, and even drop you off at a nice open place, now choose.” Clint reminded the Shit-rat. Napoleon didn’t understand what Fast or Slow had to do with this scenario, instead he associated his options with Fast being Dangerous, and Slow being Safe. "Napoweon choose swow! swow!
Itch. Itch. Itch.
“Okay!” Clint said, dropping the DIY Pillower. Forcing the Smarty down, Clint began to Shave his fluff off with the Cleaver, but unfortunately for the Feral Smarty, Clint’s Hands were not steady, And the Cleaver was a hefty thing. thin layers of Skin came off with a few unsteady strokes. “SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-SCREEEEEEEEE NU! NU HUWTIES! NU TAKE PWETTY FWUFF SCREEEEEEEEEE-!” With each slice coming off worse and worse. The FLuffy looked like a fucked up Deli-Style cut Ham. “Hey you cant blame me, YOU chose to do this Slowly. After everything you did, everything you tried to do, did you really think I was just gonna LET you leave with out some sort of punishment?”
Itch. Itch. Itch.
After a solid 15 min of botched Shearing, Napoleon, now missing his Fluff and some thin layers of his body began to cry. “Huu-Huu… wots of huwties… Napoweon wose pwetty fwuff… Pwease wet Napoweon gu Munsta Da-” Before Napoleons plea could be uttered Clint smacked him with the long flat side of the cleaver, the smack making a almost suction like sound the the now semi-nude smarty.
“I am NOT your 'Daddeh.”
Your name is Clint.
You had just shaven the fuck who invaded your safe-room and fractured all of one of your foals legs. So why not repay the kindness?
With a few swift drops of you fist, the Shit-rat’s legs became bent and misshapen. Each one blessing you with a screech. “SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE-SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE WH-WHY MUNSTA HUWT WEGGIES?! WH-WHY?” With the dumb question asked you went low enough to where you could see meet the Smarty’s eyes. As soon as they met he looked away. “Because you did the exact same thing to Volt.”
Itch. Itch. Itch.
With Napoleons legs now fucked up beyond repair. Clint looked at the sobbing and cowardly Fluffy. His once emerald green fluff coating his chubby body was left in patches. Skins being sliced off had caused a thin layer of bleeding to form, as the cuts were thin, light, yeah he was bleeding but that wasn’t your problem. What pissed you off most was the fact that he didn’t want to meet your gaze.
Itch. Itch. Itch.
“Okay Napoleon. I think your all done. Nooooooowwwww-” Clint said with a exaggerated wave of his hand. “You get to go.”
“Buh… B-buh… Napoweon’s weggies nu wowk! Nu habe any Fwuff! Tu c-cowd!” He cried in protest, as if you were going to fix him after everything you just did to him.
Itch. Itch. Itch.
With a swift grab of his nape, you raised him up to your eyes. “Your. Absolutely. Correct.” You took the fluffy out to your truck. keeping him in the box you carried Chuck and the Foals in, this time, without the nice blanket. And you drove. You didn’t know what you were going to do to him to be honest.
Itch.
Maybe give him the Pedo treatment?
Itch.
Or maybe just toss him in a shallow pool of water…
Itch.
No. To easy.
Itch.
Man you were hungry.
With a resounding thud Napoleon hit the side of the box. “OWWIES- huu-huu… whew Munsta Hoomin takin’ Napoweon? Back to Hewd?” And as if a lightbulb went off in your head, you responded. “Yes.”
Napoleon began to cry tears of joy! He must have thought you were being serious. But a herd is exactly where he belongs.
After a little more driving and a stop at In-N-Out, You spotted the exact target you were looking for. A herd. They were all opening up the garbage bags behind the restaurant. Taking your leftover fries and Napoleon under your arm, you made your way slowly to the herd, You wanted them to see you but not perceive you as a massive threat. Napoleon was the one who gave you away however. “Dis nu am Napoweon’s hewd! Ou’ wied!”
At the notice of Napoleon’s bitching, the presumed Smarty and toughies came out to meet you, as if to scare you off. “GU WAY HOOMIN. Nu wan’ Twoubwe- Onwy nee’ nummies for soon-mummahs! Nu make hewd gibe ou’ huwties!”
“Actually I wanted to give you some nummies!” Clint said dangling the bag. Gently tossing the bag over to the smarty, he opened it to see your leftover fries. “Hmmm… Why Hoomin gibe nummies? Ou’ Twyin to twick hewd? Twy and gib Fowevew Sweepies?”
“No. I actually wanted to see if you also wanted this Munsta Smarty.” You said as your tipped the box over revealing the absolute mess that was Napoleon. “He is the worst Smarty ever. He gave Hurties to my fluffies, and even tried to give bad special huggies to babies!” To the utter horror of the feral herd they began to stare at Napoleon with such hate that even Clint got a little spooked. With a curious grin the Feral Smarty agreed.
The Smarty had ordered his toughies to do what he did to others. They beat him, they hurt his already destroyed legs, and man did they ever enf the shit outta Napoleon. “SCREEEEEEEEEE-SCREEEE NU, NU BAD SPECIAL HUGGIES NU AM MAWE NU AM MA-” Napoleon tired to scream out, but was swiftly shut up by a toughie yelling “GUUUUUD FEEEEEEWS!!!” Causing Napoleon to drop his head and utter the phrase you wanted him to hear. “w…wan… wan die…” Looking over at the herd, they were a slightly bigger one that you had. Four Toughies, The Smarty, and from what you heard, probably three or four mares hiding behind the dumpsters. They seemed nice enough, shame you cant take every stray in.
After the very messy and disgusting Feral Orgy. The Feral Smarty trotted right up to you, plopped down and politely asked “Mistah, Smawty wan’ ask if Hewd can take the Dummeh back wid us, wotta odda fwuffies whid nu Special Fwend. Dummeh can hewp.” What was with your absolute dog shit luck and finding Smarties that were absolutely beautiful?
The Smarty had a Muddy White Fluff, a dirt smeared, Neon Green mane, and was a Pegasus. A smile appeared as you responded to the nice Smarty. “Because you asked so nicely, yes, Yes you can take the Dummy back. Do you gotta name Smarty?”
“Smawty name am Ice, fank 'ou nice mistah!” Then with a swift turn, Ice announced to his herd to take Napoleon, and make way for the small wooded area around the In-N-Out. You just sood there, watching them wave goodbye, and taking the Shitrat with them.
It was then watching the herd go into the darkness and thru the woods that a realization hit you. Yeah the Fluffy population had been a blight on the State for quite some time. You loved these things, especially when they were good. You didn’t have enough room at home to take any more…
But if you had a place like a warehouse… No too much…
A Store?
Yeah…
That could work.
Wonder if Ice would like a safe place for his Herd?
