Daryl comes from this story The Newton Rescue for Brown Fluffies
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Daryl was beginning his first shift at the local Fluffmart. He’d been hired almost immediately! Then again most people thought of it as a fate worse than fast food or other forms of retail. Not him! He loved fluffies. After sitting through an incredibly informative training video he was let loose on the store. Well, he wouldn’t be dealing with customers or anything. He was on night shift and doing stuff like cleaning out cages or stocking items. You might think letting a new hire and a teenager that take his first shift alone was a bad idea on all fronts and you’d be right. Staffing was a bitch though so they would have taken just about anyone at this point.
“Man, this is so fuckin’ sweet.” Daryl told himself as he stocked bright pink & white cans of ‘BESTEST MUMMAH’ foal formula. Most of the fluffies were asleep at this point, but a few were awake and watching him with some interest from their cages.
Next he moved onto the Sorry-Stick collection. Man, he hated these things. What kind of an asshole would beat their poor helpless fluffy? They were supposed to be your friends.
“Man, if I could find the dude or…heh…dudette who invented these things I’d kick their ass!” Still, he would stock them one after another. Something got his attention though. A fat pink & white mare was clicking her hooves against the bars of one of the open-air pens they reserved for the better selling colors.
“Nyu fwend! Wiw yew hewp Powwy see babbeh?” She asked, tearing up. Daryl marched up to her and nodded.
“Heck yeah! Where’s it at? C’mere, you.” He grabbed up the mare gently and kept her folded against one arm. The mare pointed a hoof over to a line of incubators against one wall. This is where underdeveloped or at risk foals were kept. Daryl was pretty sure it was more of a marketing ploy as a part of the ‘Fluffmart Cares!’ advertisement campaign where they really went out of their way to appeal to bleeding hearts.
“Awh. Sorry to hear your baby is over there. Alright, let’s go see.” He brought her over to the incubators. There were four, each currently occupied. Polly excitedly wagged her tail as she saw her babbeh. He was a talkie-babbeh, mocha colored, but only half the size of other foals his age. The foal wheezed, eyes and nose dripping.
“Pwetty babbeh! Mummah hewe!” Polly said, and Daryl just shook his head.
“Whoa whoa whoa. You didn’t tell me it was shit colored. C’mon, this is…” He narrowed his eyes. “Way not cool.”
Polly just shook her head and tried to give huggies to the incubator. “Nuuu! He am pwetty babbeh. Pwease wet mummah gib huggies.”
Daryl sat the mare down, and she gave a few impatient clicks of her hooves. “Pwease nice mistah! He ‘nee huggies tu gwow big ‘n stwong!”
He took out his phone. His own fluffy had to see this shit. Calling the special little camera/microphone station in his saferoom (that could also dispense treats), his fluffy hit the button that brought up the video screen after hearing the chiming.
“Hewwo daddeh! Yew am worksies?” He asked, tail waggling excitedly. His dad was so cool after all.
“Reaper, dude, watch this shit. It’s going to be the best.” He set the camera up on a nearby display of sketti flavored treats and walked over to the incubator. Sliding the side panel open, the foal inside would skitter over excitedly.
“Wet gud babbeh see bestest mummah? Su egsited!” He cooed, as Daryl turned out and pressed back against the incubator.
“Huu…wha…?” The foal asked, before being blasted with one of the nastiest farts of all time. He screeched and fell back, crying and flailing his hooves around.
“NUUUU! POOPY SMEWWS! MUMMMMAAHHHH!” He cried out, and Daryl would slam the panel to the incubator shut. The foal freaked out and began to run in circles in an attempt to escape the foul odor now trapped inside. Rocked his hooves against the panels and sobbed.
“MUMMAH SABE BABBEH! NU AM PWETTY IN BOXSIE!” Daryl picked Polly up so she could see. The foal had vomited up a bellyful of formula and collapsed with a miserable expression.
“YEW AM MUNSTAH!” Polly screeched, but he didn’t listen to her. He went over to his phone where Reaper was on-screen laughing so hard that tears had formed in his eyes.
“POOPIE BABBEH AM GIT WOWSTEST POOPY SMEWW! TEEHEHEHEHE!” The stallion looked like he was about to pop an eye out with the force of his laughter. He got a look at Polly and smiled. “Hewwo pwetty mawe. Wan bestest speciaw huggies?”
He disconnected the call. Geeze, the Reapster always had one thing on his mind. Polly was deposited back in her little caged in area.
“MAN I LOVE THIS JOB!” Daryl declared to the world.
Hope he discovers the security cameras don’t capture the incubators or that one is broken uplugs the incubator at the end of his shift after his replacement shows up so it dies of exposure during their shift instead of his.