M-52 was arguably the most beautiful alicorn mare at the breeding centre. From her midnight blue coat that had little white speckles all over it, to her flowing sparkly black mane, to her vibrant aquamarine eyes, she looked like a little walking night sky. Her foals where often just as gorgeous, and they were always obedient. Management adored her, but the workers HATED interacting with her. The reason being that she was a notorious grump, and smart in a really obnoxious way.
Martha didn’t even bother putting on a fake smile as she approached M-52s pen, as the cranky mare would see right though it, and call Martha out in her shrill and grating way. As usual, the mare’s brood where hiding under their mother as she stood in the pen, grumpily glaring up at Martha. “Hewwo Mawtha.” M-52 spat with disdain, “’Ou am hewe tu take babbehs tu fwuff-knus-wewe, yeww at Emmfifteetu fo’ twyin’ tu be gud mummah, an’ gib babbehs wowstest saddies.” Martha did not respond verbally to the mare’s words, and instead just lifted M-52 by the scruff of her neck with one hand, and pulled the foals out from under her with the other.
“Mummah! Hewp babbeh!” “Babbeh nu wike!” “Huu huu, wan mummah!”
The three little foals cried and complained, but did not struggle. M-52 always taught her foals to never resist a human, saying, “Am pointwess, hoomins wiww jus’ huwt babbehs dat twy tu fite.” it was why they where so obedient. But that didn’t mean the mare was without her rough edges.
“Emmtwennysix git mowe tiem wit babbehs den Emmfifteetu,” the mare angrily whined as Martha placed the foals in the cart, “am nu faiw!” M-52 stomped her hooves as she was lowered back onto the floor of her pen. Martha grinned an evil grin at the alicorn, and said, “I’m glad there was a snowstorm yesterday…” Martha looked M-52 right in the eye, “M-26 is a good fluffy, unlike YOU! She deserved that extra day with her foals. The only thing you deserve is a punch in the face, you unbearably bitchy shitrat!”
In the cart the foals gathered from M-26 and M-52 erupted into distressed cries of;“Huu huu, bad wowdsies…” “Wai wady be meanie tu mummah?” “Nu wan!”
M-52 grinned smugly at Martha, “Weww, ‘ou cum hewe, take babbehs, yeww at Emmfifteetu, an’ gib babbehs saddies. Emmfifteetu tink Mawtha am dun hewe. Naow gu way!”
Martha stormed away with the cart. This wasn’t the first time M-52 had done something like that, and it wouldn’t be the last. Some workers believed the mare to be psychic. Others insisted that she just had really good pattern recognition skills.
Regardless of the explanation, none of the centre workers were amused by M-52’s tricks.