“Pwease daddeh?? Buttah wiww’ be bestes mummah for babbehs! Gif’ babbehs huggies an’ wuv an’ bestes’ miwkies! Buttah-”
Nigel clicks the TV off before standing to address his fluffy, Butter.
“We’ve already been over this, Butter. I don’t want or need anymore shit-cannons making my house smell like ass. I love you, but I will not allow you to have foals. Understand?”
Butter was a light yellow Alicorn with golden wings, hoofies, mane, and tale. Her horn had been removed when she was just a foal as a way to protect her from her mother, but it would have been the same shade of gold as her wings! She had just started watching Fluff TV with her daddeh in the TV room, and her favorite show was “Babbehs!” Thanks to Hasbio’s internal programming, Butter was struck with intense baby fever before Nigel could even realize. It didn’t take long for her to start asking for her own foals. Over. And over. and over again.
Nigel stares down at Butter with a stern look, causing her to shrink into herself slightly before casting her gaze down at the floor. Tiny tears begin to build in the tiny fluffs eyes as she quietly huus to herself.
“Buttah… Undew’stan… Nu babbehs… huuhuuu…”
Nigel nods his head, happy with Butter’s response. Sure, she was sad now. All it would take to cheer her up is some time in the back yard and a bowl of canned “fluffy sketti” for dinner. He stands up and motions toward the back door leading to his yard.
“Good girl. You wanna go play in the yard while I get your dinner ready?”
Butter’s distraught gaze suddenly changes to one of joy and excitement. She loved playing in the yard! She loved the flower nummies and buggie friends and-
Butter nods her head excitedly as she clumsily climbs down from the couch back hoofs first, landing on the soft carpeted floor below with a gently THUMP as she lands flat on her rear-end. She isn’t even fazed as she jumps to her feet and waddles at full speed toward the back door, and straight through the little doggy-door leading to the outside world.
Nigel smiles and walks over to his stove, pulling a can of fluffy food and a bottle of whiskey from the cabinets above. He takes a pull from his bottle before dumping the sketti into a pet bowl and throwing it in the microwave. As he watched the food heat up, he takes a few more long chugs from the bottle and turns his gaze out the kitchen window leading to the yard.
Butter rushes to the backyard as fast as her pudgy little hoofies can carry her. Her wings flap uselessly with excitement as she bounds toward the grass. The sun had just barely began to set, giving the perfect amount of light for her to burn off some energy before dinner time. She gleefuly chases the first few fireflies to dance around the yard, nums some of the plain tasting grassy nummies, and pretends to share her favorite bright red ball with lots of pretty babbehs! She did this for a few forevers before a strange noise coming from the far end of the yard grabs her attention.
“huuhuu… tummeh huwties…”
Butter stops pushing her ball with her imaginary children and perks her head up toward the noise, slowly and cautiously slinking her way inch by inch toward the crying.
“Huuhuu… Wai’ fwiens’ weave big-wig… huuhuu…”
Butter slowly approaches the berry bush concealing the crying sounds, carefully pushing her head around the underside of the bush before her eyes land on a crying grey and red fluffy. She clumsily pushes the rest of her fluffy body through the bush, tumbling over as she frees herself before landing in a daze on her haunches right in front of the crying grey fluffy.
“huuhuu wha-? SCREEEEE!!! NU’ HUWT BIG-WIG PWEASE!!”
Big Rig jumps and cries out in surprise, releasing a flood of scardie-poopies all over his rump, back legs, and tail. The putrid puddle grows slowly around where he sits, coating his fur as he uselessly tries to hide behind his hoofies from the thing that just jumped out in front of him.
Butter shakes the daze and the pretty lighty things from her vision as her focus slowly lands back on the shit-covered fluffy sitting in front of her. She finds herself suddenly at a loss for words as the strange fluffy before her returns her curious stare. She had never seen such a handsome fluffy in all her bright times, and she had no idea exactly what to say to him.
Big Rig slowly lowers his hooves, trembling in fear as he carefully peaks over his hoofies at the creature before him. It was a pretty fluffy mare! The prettiest mare he had ever seen! He had to say something quick or else she’d run away! He lowers his hoofies and awkwardly waves at butter with a tear filled smile.
“H…Hewwo… Fwuffy am Big-Wig… Pwease’ nu huwties? Big-Wig jus’ wookin’ fow nummies an’ hewd weave Big-Wig behin… Huuhuu Sowwy for scawdie-poopies… Sowwy Nu’ smeww pwetty fow’ pwetty mawe… huuhuu”
Butter gazes at the handsome fluffy before her. Big Rig was a solid slate gray color with a race-car red mane and tail. He was a simple earthy fluffy named by the trucker that rescued him as a foal before releasing him into the wild with a random herd. He was coverd in dirt, droppings, and all manor of disgusting debris. Butter didn’t care though. Her cartoon-filtered brain only saw the most handsome stallion ever.
“F…Fwuffy am… Buttah… Ou’ nu’ smeww nu-pwetty, buttah’ pwomise! Big-Wig wan-?”
“Butter! Dinner tiiiiiiimee!!!”
Nigel drunkenly sings out loudly into the backyard, signaling to Butter that it was time to go inside for the night. She jumps to her hooves and rushes toward the bush, sparing one quick glance and a tempting smile toward Big Rig before squeezing herself back into the yard and rushing inside for dinner. She wasn’t going to miss Sketti-Night!
Nigel watches her happily prance through the door, leaves and twigs tangled into her fluff and the faint smell of shit wafting in behind her. She probably just took a mean dump behind the bush he thinks as he closes and locks the door behind them. Nigel takes one last shot before putting the bottle back up in the cabinet next to the fluffy sketti cans. He tears into his own dinner of drunk rice and beans, scarfing it down in tandem with Butter.
Butter digs into her bestes skettis, but her thinky place wont stop showing her pictures of the handsome stranger fluffy, Big Rig.
Big Rig gingerly rubs his rump over the dirty ground, doing his best to rid himself of the scardie poopies as he continues picturing butter in his head. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t huu. He doesn’t say a word or make a single noise as he finds a clean patch of dirt protected by the bushes and hunkers down for the night. He falls asleep with a tiny smile. Maybe he’d see her again next bright time!
Nigel wakes up bright and early the following day, sliding on his yard-work clothes before making his way into the backyard. It only takes a few seconds of trimming his hedges before he notices the sleeping fluffy curled up behind one of them. He suddenly comes to the realization that this was probably what Butter was doing behind the bushes last night. He simply shakes his head before quietly retreating back to his home, resting his tools against the wall before he slides himself back inside. He had a hunch that this would be a fun little experiment with Butter. Speaking of-
Butter yawns a big yawn and stretches her hoofies out as far as they can go as Nigel comes walking back in through the back yard door. She sees him resting the hedge clippers against the wall and immediately jumps to her hooves in a panic. Her daddy had just cut the bushies. What if he found Big Rig?! She rushes straight through Nigel’s legs and out the little doggy door. Nigel watches with intense interest as his fluffy waddles as fast as she can manage back into his yard.
Butter dashes straight for the bush she had met Big-Rig behind, totally oblivious to her daddy watching her every move through the kitchen window. She jumps straight through the same gap beneath the bush from last night, pushing through without dazing herself this time as she prances toward a still sleeping Big Rig. She gently leans right into his face, booping her snout playfully against his.
Big Rig’s eyes flutter open and the world slowly comes into focus. The first thing he sees is the pretty mare from last dark time, and his eyes widen in surprise. He quickly jumps to his feet and stumbles over his words, Butter giggling at his awkwardness. Butter waves waves her hoofie at him much like he had to her before.
“Big Wig am siwwy stawwion! Buttah wuv siwwy stawwions!”
She blushes and giggles again, Big Rig simply dumbstruck as his heart beats a thousand times per second. He blushes a deep shade of red before quietly responding-
“Buttah am’ su pwetty… Pwetties’ mawe Big Wig ebah’ see in awe dah’ bwight times!”
Butter playfully tackles him and nuzzles against his nose, Big Rig happily returning the huggies. They spend the remainder of the day running around the bushes, eating the nummies that fall from them, playing huggy tag and other fun games until the sun slowly begins to set. The pair sits napping under the same bush they had met behind as Nigels drunken voice once again sings out over the yard.
“OOOOH BUUUUTTTERRR MY DEAR! DIIIINNNERRRR!”
Butter quickly jumps to her feet, giving Big Rig another quick nuzzle as she turns.
“Tank’ ou fow bestes’ bwite time ebah, Big-Wig! Buttah’ be back next bwite-timey! Wuv ou’ Big-Wig!”
She quickly dashes off before Big Rig can respond. He doesn’t mind though. He simply watches the way Butters golden tail swishes behind her as she prances toward her daddy. He wished he had a daddy like butter. He missed his old daddy. It’s okay though, because he found Butter, and she made his thinky place and heawty feel more than just super happy and pretty. She made them feel complete again. He curls up under his bush with a smile on his face, his body warmed by the memories of the day as he falls into a deep sleep.
Nigel watches as Butter comes scurrying from the same bush he had found the ugly ass grey fluffy in a few hours earlier. She had spent the day playing with him, and he was honestly surprised that they hadn’t done the deed yet. He turns to Butter who greedily devours her kibble, licking up every crumb as she stuffed her face. Nigel decides to take this time to drill something into her head again, just to solidify his point once more. He simply steps over her and leans down behind her, stroking her mane gently.
“Daddy is sorry that you can’t have any foals, Butter. It’s okay though, only bad fluffs don’t listen to their daddies rules, and I know you are the best fluffy ever. So, I know that you would never get knocked up and I KNOW you would NEVER have any babies!”
Butter suddenly stops eating mid-bight as the realization dawns on her, and Nigel takes notice. He grins to himself as he stands and retires to his bedroom for the night, confident that the seed he just planted would soon bloom into a beautiful shit-show.
Butter looks down into her bowl of half eaten food, thinking about what her daddy had just said. Good fluffies don’t break the rules, but she wanted babbehs so bad. Maybe she could have babbehs… And hide them from daddy? She could pretend she didn’t have any babbehs to trick her daddy!
TAP-TAP
Butter’s train of thought is broken as a quiet tapping noise now grabs her attention. She glances toward her little door to the yard, almost screaming in surprise as she sees Big-Rigs head peak through! Big Rig carefully pokes his head through the door, glancing around the room as butter comes rushing toward him! Butter tackles him through the door and they tumble a few feet back into the dark, embracing each other and giggling like school kids.
“Wha’ am Big-Wig doin’ hewe?! Daddeh jus’ gu sweepies!”
“Big Wig miss Buttah su’ muchies! Awso… Big Wig haf tummeh-huwties…”
Big Rigs sunken belly grumbles loudly in reply. Before he can say another word, Butter is already rushing inside and pulling her food bowl back out. It still had half her dinner, and she didn’t mind sharing. Big Rig wastes no time before he’s gobbling down the kibble, licking up every last crumb. He looks up at Butter with the greatest heart happies ever. Butter returns his gaze and happily grins at his satisfaction. She waits until he’s done eating before she tackles him again and nuzzles his snout.
They gaze into each others eyes. No words need to be shared. A sense of one fills the night time air. The silence is graced with the quiet sounds of love blossoming into a beautiful flower singing in harmony with the chirping of the crickets.
“Enf-Enf-Enf-Enf-”
Nigel awakens the next morning to the sounds of Butter singing to herself from behind her saferoom door. Damn, he must have forgotten to close it last night after dinner. Whatever, Butter knew better than to wonder around and do whatever in the middle of the night. Still though, he was curious about what she was singing. Quiet as a mouse, Nigel sneaks his way down the hall toward Butter’s safe room, tuning his audible focus into the tuneless babble-singing Butter was spouting.
“Buttah am su’ happies, feew wike a mummah! Wuv’ hew tummeh-babbehs, Big-Wig an’ dah summah!”
He smiles and shakes his head, mentally face palming about his comments from the previous night. She was pregnant. Freshly so, but pregnant. Guess it’s time to intervene!
Nigel sneaks past the saferoom door and straight out the back door. In his excitement, he nearly trips over a sleeping big-rig on his back porch. Instead he accidently ends up kicking the fluffy square in the head, knocking him out before he could even awaken for the morning. Nigel simply shrugs before picking Big Rig up by the tail and lazily tossing him into a large plastic bin in his garage. That will be taken care of in time. For now, there are other matters that need attending to.