Nigel tightens the belt around his robe before pouring himself another cup of coffee. The clock on the stove reads 6:30am, a full 2 and a half hours before he would normally give Butter her kibble breakfast. He sit’s and ruminates as the caffeine does it’s job. A few days had passed since finding out his fluffy was pregnant, and he decided it was finally time to do something about it. He had already taken away her yard access under the guise of “scary flying monsters attacking fluffies” to keep her from asking about Big Rig, much to her dismay. This wasn’t enough though. Butter thinks she can break the number one rule, then lie about it? After everything he’s done for her? Hell no. She’ll learn her lesson, one way or another.
Nigel figures since he isn’t suppose to know about the pregnancy, he may as well act like it, just to see how far Butter was willing to take this charade. Looks like she might be getting a little chubby. Better cut back on her feeding portions. Don’t want her to be too unhealthy now! Nigel stood there simmering for a moment longer before taking another sip of from his mug, picking up Butter’s half-filled bowl, and walking slowly toward her safe room.
Butter yawns and stretches before digging herself deeper into her nice warm blankey. She was still giggling and rubbing her tummeh as thoughts of her future foals filled her tiny fluffy head. She also thinks fondly about Big Rig, but she can’t ask her daddeh about him. Instead, she simply pushes the saddies deep down into her belly until they go away. If that didn’t work, she forces herself to think about something else. Something else like her tummeh-babbehs!
All she had to do was hide her tummeh babbehs from her daddeh until they came out! Once her daddeh could see just how pretty all of her babbehs were and what a good mummah she was, he would have to let her keep them! He just couldn’t find out about them until-
-FUCKIN’ SLAM-
Butter nearly jumps out of her skin as Nigel bursts through the door. She let’s out a startled squeak and a tiny squirt of scardie peepees, lightly spraying the bed behind her with a sour smelling film.
“EEEH-!”
-pfffsss-
“BUTTER, MY LITTLE FLUFFY DARLING!! GOOD MORNING!! HOW’S DADDIES BEST…Little… fluff…”
Nigel made extra noise as he entered to startle Butter, but he wasn’t expecting her to soil her bed. She was normally good about holding her business, even when she was surprised. It was almost as if she had done something recently that would make it rather hard to tighten certain muscles in certain places in this situation…
Butter stumbles to her hoofies in a panic, fighting her way out of the peepee stained blanket covering her nestie bed. In her haste, she trips over her own hoofies and goes tumbling over the lip of the bed and lands flat on her face.
“HUUHUU DADDEH BUTTAH’ HAF’ WOSTES’ SMEWW PWACE HUWTIES!!”
Her voice is muffled as she tries to uselessly hug the pain away from snout. She loudly wimpers through her little hoofies.
“Huuhuu, tase’ boo-boo juice!! Nu’ tase’ pwetty! huuhuu daddeh!! Nee’ huggies! Huuhuu Daddeh pwease gif’ huggies tu soon-MMMPPHHH-”
Butter realizes what she’s about to say, panicking all over again as her hoofie seems to force itself into her mouth without her telling it to do so. Fortunately, her final word is muffled by this action.
Nigel raises an eyebrow down at Butter as he watches her shove a hoof into her mouth. What was that she was about to call herself? He’s about to ask before he realizes Butter has caught on to his suspicious expression. Instead, he simply takes another sip of his coffee before silently placing the half filled bowl gently on the ground a few feet away from Butter.
Nigel turns away and shuffles toward the saferoom door. He slowly opens it, making his way out only to stop halfway before turning his attention back to Butter.
“We talked about this little lady. You’re a big fluffy now, you’re too old to suck on your hoofs. You don’t want me to get the Burnie-Sauce again, right? Clean up your bed too. Laundry day isn’t until Monday.”
Nigel quickly shuts the door behind him before Butter can give her response. She’s too busy shaking and sucking her hoof to answer. The memories of the burnie-sauce that gave her mouthie the worstest hurties she’s ever had briefly play in her head, causing her to quickly yank her hoof from her mouth in a panic.
Sucking on her hoofie suddenly reminds her how hungry she was! She had to make sure she ate plenty of nummies so that her tummeh-babbehs would get the bestest milkies and grow up big and strong! She quickly gathers herself and happily waddles up to her bowl. She looks down at her breakfast, slightly disappointed that all she got was boring old kibble. She didn’t mind the kibble, but she wished her daddeh would have given her sketties instead! Her tummeh-babbehs deserved nothing but the bestest nummies!
Butter gives one last cautious glance toward the safe room door, making extra sure it was shut and that her daddeh was gone before turning back toward her breakfast and her soiled bed with a look of defeat.
“Huuhuu nu wan’ gif’ nestie wickie-cweanies… huuhuu scawdie-peepees am bad fow’ tummeh-babbehs…”
Butter whimpers quietly to herself as she slowly trots back to her nest, gently sobbing as she carefully climbs back over the lip of the bed. She licks away the booboo juice slowly dripping from her snout as she approaches the small piss stain. The smell, one that she had been familiar with and nose-blind to, now suddenly causes her stomach to wretch and her chest to heave. The acrid scent seems to cling to the inside of her nostrils, burning her snout and causing her eyes to water profusely.
Nigel sits in his kitchen and stares down at his phone. The nanny-cam he installed in Butter’s safe-room gave him a front row seat of everything his little fibbing fluffy was doing and saying. He watched with glee as Butter struggled to clean her bed. She’s cleaned up her own messes before just fine, some even worse than this one. However, her body was starting it’s pregnancy preparations. This meant that it was flushing out as many toxins and whatever else it feels may be a danger to the potential fetus(s) as it could. This was causing her urine to become even more acidic and pungent than normal.
Butter decides to think of a solution after her breakfast. It was hard to think this much on an empty stomach! She turns and carefully climbs out of her nest, taking care to avoid the sorry peepees. She approaches her bowl, wasting no time as her face dives straight into the kibble. She greedily eats bite after bite after…
She swallows her mouth-full of chewed kibble before glancing back down into her bowl where only a few small crumbs remained. Butter stared at her empty bowl slightly confused. Normally when she was finished eating all of her kibble, her tummeh would feel like bursting. It suddenly dawns on her that she also needs to eat nummies for her soon babbehs! That’s why she still felt hungry!
“Nu wowwy, tummeh-babbehs. Soon-mummah gon’ get mow’ nummies fwom daddeh!”
Butter quickly waddles toward the door to the safe-room before rearing up onto her two back legs. She starts tapping the wooden door as hard as her little marshmallow hooves would let her, calling out for Nigel.
“DADDEH!! BUTTAH NEE’ MOW NUMMIES PWEASE! BUTTAH STIWW HAF’ TUMMEH HUWTIES!! TUMMEH HUWTIES AM BAD FOW TUMMEH-”
Butter catches herself again and forcibly corrects herself-
“TUMMEH!! TUMMEH-HUWTIES AM BAD FOW-TUMMEH!”
Nigel facepalms as Butter grins to herself, proud of her answer as she feels the door slowly open. She quickly clops back down onto all 4 hooves as her daddeh peeks around the door.
"Not until lunch time, sweetie. You know this. I’m sorry if your tummy ache is… Bad for your tummy…?
Butter’s stomach rumbles again, causing her to become slightly more rushed. She glares up at Nigel as small tears begin building in her eyes.
“Bu’ daddeh, Buttah nee’ mow’ nummies! Buttah am su’ hungwy!! Haf’ wostes’ tummeh-huwties!!”
Butter’s cries echo off the saferoom walls, but fall flat against her daddeh’s ears. Nigel simply shakes his head as the distinct scent of piss suddenly slaps him in the face. He glares down at Butter and sighs in irritation.
“Clean up your bed and I’ll give you a snack. If you don’t have it cleaned by lunch time, you’re not getting any food until tomorrow, and 10 hurties from the sorry stick. Understand?”
Nigel slams the door before giving Butter a chance to respond, leaving her in stunned silence once again.
Butter wimpers to herself as she slowly retreats to her soiled nest, taking a few sips of wawa from her pretty wawa bowl on the way. She laps up the water, when suddenly her eyes light up! Her wawa bowl! She could wash her peeepee stained blanket in the wawa bowl since her daddeh would replace the water next time he fed her! If she was fast enough, he might even do it when she got her extra nummies! She quickly waddles to her nest, clenching the corner furthest from the scardie-peepee stain in her teeth before slowly dragging it toward her water bowl.
Nigel puts his phone down before scooping another cup of kibble into Butter’s bowl. This food however, wasn’t going to Butter. He picks up the bowl and slowly shuffles toward his garage, where quiet whimpering could be heard sadly floating into the cold still air. Big Rig sobbed to himself from his uncomfortable position in the plastic oil-drum Nigel had dropped him in. His legs ached from standing so long, but there wasn’t enough room for him to bend or adjust to sit comfortably without his legs or tail cramping up. He had just enough room to turn and curl up, but nothing more.
Nigel stares down into the plastic drum at the pitiful sobbing pile of shit and piss stained fluff that now shook before him. Having almost no room to move, Big-Rig ended up covered in his own waste and vomit. The bottom of the plastic drum was covered in dried feces and vomit, and his fluff soaked up most of the urine. MOST of it.
“Morning, Shit-Rig. I brought you food, not that you actually deserve it… Anyway! Before that you need to answer my question correctly. Do you know why you’re here?”
Big Rig trembles as Nigel bellows down to him, his voice echoing off the inside of the drum making it seem much louder than normal. He shivers a bit more before responding.
"Cus…G-g-gif’ Buttah s-s-speshew-huggies…?"
Nigel grins and nods before dumping the bowl of kibble into the oil-drum, pelting Big-Rig as it fell over him. He doesn’t say a word as he devours every morsel he can reach, not caring if it was covered in poopies or sickie-wawas. He was just relieved to finally have something to eat. His cracked lips and dry gums begin to bleed as he chews the dry kibble, causing him to yelp out slightly in pain with every other bite. He gingerly looks back up at Nigel, a look of desperation in his eyes.
“C-c-can…Big-wig… Haf’ w-wawa p-pwease…?”
Nigel simply shakes his head and turns back toward the garage door.
“I can smell the piss and shit in here from my kitchen. Seems to me like you have plenty to drink.”
He calls out with a giggle before slamming the garage door shut again, leaving Big Rig alone once again in the dead silence of the cold garage. He had plans for Big Rig. Big plans. For now though, that can wait. He’s got more important things to worry about.
Butter scrambles toward her water bowl with her soiled blanket clamped firmly in her teeth. She was going to give her blankie a bath, much like her daddeh gave her when she was just a foal! She approaches the bowl, huffing between steps. She felt like she had been pulling for so many forevers, but she continued to persevere. In her haste, she accidently steps on the large remote that was used to turn the TV in her safe room on, and off. The foam wrapped TV flashes to life, loudly playing a child-like jingle-
“GUD’ FWUFFIES MAKE GUD-POOPIES IN DAH’ WITTAH BOX! GUD’ FWUFFIES MAKE GUD-POOPIES IN DAH’ WITTAH BOX!”
The sudden loud noise startles Butter, causing her to spray scardie-poopies all over her already soiled blanket! What was once a simple piss stain had now escalated into a full blown shit show.
“NUUU!! huuhuu scawdie-poopies!! Wai’ poopie-pwace nu’ hewp Buttah??? huuhuu Pwease scawdie-poopies! Gu’ back tu’ poopie pwace!! huuhuu-”
Butter’s attention is suddenly shifted upward toward the TV. Her look despair had now sunken to a complete panic attack as she realized what was playing. A show called “Good Fluffies”. An educational program produced by HASBIO aimed toward teaching domestic fluffy ponies good manners and behavior. Butter knew this show and was normally quite fond of it, except she knew there was only two more shows until her next feeding time. She was running out of time, and her problems had only gotten worse.
Butter bursts into tears as she frantically scrambles to get her blanket over to her water bowl. She was desperate to clean it up before her daddeh could see it, or else she would get the sorry stick! She closes the distance to her bowl before doing her best to wad up her soiled blanket into a pile she could fit into the water bowl. She forces as much blanket as she can into the bowl, trying her best and failing to keep her fluff clean as the TV plays another series of flashing lights and Tuneless fluffy singing.
“NUU!! BWANKIE’ STIWW HAF’ NU-SMEWW PWETTIES!! HUUHUU PWEASE BWANKIE, BE CWEAN FOW’ SOON-MUMMAH!! HUUHUU NU’ WAN SOWWY-STICK HUWTIES!!”
By this time, another TV had started playing. “Dancie-Fluffs!” A locally produced show dedicated to only the cutest foals and fluffs of all kinds doing all kinds of silly dancies for their mummahs and daddehs! This was one of Butter’s favorite shows, but right now it only sent another rush of panic down her spine. Her favorite show, “Babbehs!” was up next, then her daddeh would be back to check on her for lunch. Words failed to leave her mouth as anxiety and fear compound in her mind.
She was almost out of time, and her blanket was no closer to being cleaned. In fact, the frantic splashing and poor hoofie-scrubbing had only tainted her water, turning it into a thick brown sludge that now covered the entire blanket. As well as the floor around the bowl. And her pretty fluff. And her wings. And her tail. And the fucking ceiling somehow…?
Nigel is already prepared, his gloved hands turning up the volume on his phone as he watches the shitty-carnage unfold before him. He was having a hard time concentrating through the tears of laughter streaming down his face. He couldn’t help but bust up watching his poor little fluffy try her hardest to clean up a mess she had no way of actually cleaning by herself. Not only that, but she somehow managed to make it even worse simply by trying to do what she was told. It’s strange how misfortune and bad luck seem to follow these poor creatures.
Nigel finally catches his breath and checks the clock on the stove. Lunch time was in 5 minutes. Butter would need an act of god to clean up her mess now. Nigel watches through his phone as Butter finally gives up and flops onto her haunches, landing on the soggy ruined carpet with a sickening SQUELCH. She can do nothing but cry into her piss and shit stained hoofies as she hears the doorknob of her saferoom turn and click before-
DING-DONG