Boys Will Be Boys: By Stwumpo

One of my first attempts writing domestic drama along with the fluffies. It’s OKAY.

“Tad, I don’t know that this is a good idea.”

“Muffy, you saw the dog. He still won’t let me near him. I can’t think of any other solutions.”

“It’s just so unseemly.”

“He needs an outlet. He’s at that age.”

“Fine. Just make sure he knows to keep it in that room.”

~😑 ~😔 ~

You are a fluffy mummah named Bridget. You have pretty pink fluff and a pretty blue mane. On your back are your five babbehs! You love them all so much. You just had them at the shelter last week, and the meanie shelter lady told you she was going to sell them and take them away! Lucky for you Nice Mistuh showed up and rescued your family.

He and Tall Mummah were talking about something boring, but more importantly they were taking you to your new saferoom! Your new little housie!

“Weddy fow nyu safewoom, babbehs?” You cooed back at your beloved foals. “Hooway! Wub nyu howsie! Wub nyu daddeh!” Ohhh, they were so excited! “Wemembuh babbehs, Daddeh am Taww Daddeh. Bu’ fwuffies am fow Wittwe Daddeh.” They gently babbled in agreement and understanding. Wingie Babbeh started singing her wingie song, and Pointie Babbeh made music sounds with his mouth to help. The three Earthie Babbehs babbled along, and you were soooo happy!

Daddeh opened the door.

A young boy in a threadbare gray sweatshirt and linen pants was seated in a big plastic chair with no hard edges or gaps. Like something from a playroom specifically for suicide risks and people who like to try to throw things. It was next to a similarly designed table. You didn’t find it odd, it’s a saferoom! Everything here is safe and nice fow fwaffy!

No, what you found odd is that, rather than introduce you to the gangly sullen faced 18 year old in front of you, daddeh says “Son, they don’t leave this room. Just…” He stops. He doesn’t know what to say. “Just…just keep it contained. Contained and quiet.” Not waiting for a response, he left, closing the door as he did.

It was quiet, but Little Daddy, who was pretty big for a little daddy, was smiling! Hooray!

“Hewwo, nyu daddeh! Fwuffy am Bwidget! Am suuuu hapoy fow meet nyu daddeh! Nyu daddeh wub fwaffy? Wub babbehs?” You trotted excitedly up to his feet. Your back was abuzz with chatter.

“Wook at pwetty cowows! Safewoom su pwetty!

“Wook, bwudda! Am baww! Fwuffies hab baww!

“Hooway! Fankyu mummah! Mummah find bestes’ nyu daddeh fow fwuffies!”

As you reached daddy’s knee you knelt down to let her babbehs down off your back. As you did, you felt a shift. Daddeh was giving upsies to a babbeh!

“Nu daddeh! Nu gif babbeh upsies! Pwease, babbeh stiww bewy dewwicate!” It took all your self control to wait for your babbehs to step down, but as soon as they did you looked up.

Daddeh had picked up your pointie babbeh! He was giving him upsies, but they were bad! He was gripping Pointie Babbeh’s skin at the scruff of his neck! It wasn’t the most painful thing, but it was uncomfortable and Pointie Babbeh was squirming! He was kicking his back hoofsies, trying desperately to find footing. “Hewp! Mummah hewp! Sabe babbeh! Babbeh tuu high! Babbeh nu wike bad upsies!”

“Baby, shut up.” Daddy spoke flatly. “Bridget, shut up as well.” His eyes were dull. Like he was staring through you. “Huuuhuuuu sowwy daddeh, bu’ babbe-”


Daddy kicked you! It wasn’t a big kick, but it really gave you owwies! Daddy had kicked you on your left front shoulder, and now when you tried to use that leggie, it gave you hurties!

“Nuuuu! Owwies! Wai daddeh gif kickies to mummah! Pwease nu huwt!”

He was unmoved, looking back to Pointie Babbeh. “You. Who are you?” Pointie Babbeh looked back, puzzled. “Nu unnastan? Pointie Babbeh am pointie babbeh. Wike babbeh, bu’ hab facie pointie!”

“Ah, yes. I’d seen that. Suppose it makes you feel special? None of your brothers or sisters have one.”

Pointie was beaming. “Das wite! Pointie Babbeh wub pointie! Hewp Pointie Babbeh bawance an’ nu faww down! Can wun su fast!” He ran in place in the air. “Daddeh…wan put babbeh down? Wet babbeh show daddeh how wun?”

Daddy chuckled. “Nah, gotta do something first.”

In one quick motion he produced a little shiny thing. It was a clippy! You’d seen hoomins use it to trim their not-hooves. You were about to tell daddy that you were very smart and knew what his toy was when he casually placed it on Pointie Babbeh’s facie pointie.

“Daddeh?” Your voice was softened by fear. Your babbeh’s was not. “Daddeh! Wat du wif shiny? Am hewp make pointie gwow?”


It was over in an instant. At first you thought you’d seen wrong. Pointie Babbeh immediately started thrashing and kicking and howling.

SCREEEEEEEE! Owwies! Nuuuuu! Wai gif facie pointie owies?! Huwties suuu much!” Tears were streaming down his face mixing with the blood on his forehead. You saw it the same time he did. From the ground, you could see that your beloved Pointie Babbeh no longer had his face pointie. His view was worse.

Being a babbeh, the thrashing and huuhuuing quickly tired him, and in a few seconds he was hanging limp, defeated, and sobbing quietly. It was then that daddeh spoke. He flicked babbeh in his smell place, and babbeh looked up. Daddeh had his hand held out for babbeh to see something.

It was babbeh’s special face pointy place.

"Alright, same question again. Who are you?"


This is amazing so far. What’s going to happen next? I wonder how pointy baby will define itself now that it’s no longer pointy.