This is a rework of one of my old booru stories, good god I sucked at fluffspeak and it needed a lot of cleaning up.
‘Welcome to the new method of fluffy population control!’ The foal trap’s slogan said.
A low square metal cage, half a metre across with small doors, just the right size for foals and young fluffies to walk through, barring entrance to adults. The doors swing inward, allowing easy entrance but disallowing exit. In the central chamber you place a fluffies dream meal of spaghetti or other fluffy attractants (behind a further cage of course). Adults unable to go through the doors will send their foals through so they can bring the food back out, trapping the foals and smaller fluffies. Trapping the foals allows easy collection for disposal or spay/neuter programs. The adults may leave the foals after they realise they cannot get the foals out, this only leads fluffies to attempt to have more offspring, but this is a risk for ferals, helping to keep populations down.
You are the bestest fwuffeh mummah. You have 4 babbehs, green bestest babbeh, blue second bestest babbeh, siwwy babbeh and wowstest babbeh. You are feeding bestest babbeh and second bestest babbeh, singing your mummah song
‘Bestest mummah, bestest babbehs, give miwkies, give miwkies.’ While siwwy babbeh rolls around in a puddle on his back, legs wiggling, trying to peep and chirp with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. You don’t know where worstest babbeh is, but this is beneath your notice.
You are wowstest babbeh, pale yellow fluff with a shit brown tail, but to be honest most of you is shit brown, being as covered in shit as you are. Your mummah is a meany, telling you that if you find food she will clean and feed you, she never does though. Once again you are out looking for food, maybe mummah won’t be meany this time you think to yourself, as you sniff through the alley you catch the smell of the most wonderful food in the world ‘SKETTIES!’ You yell, running as fast as you can you go round a corner and see a cage with two foals, one red the other pink and a big plate of sketties inside. You run back to mummah.
“Mummah, mummah! Babbeh find bestest nummies ebah, babbeh find sketties mummah! Fowwow! Fowwow!” You yell, pointing down the alleyway with one of your front wegs.
Mummah picks up bestest and second bestest babbeh and puts them in her backfluff before picking up siwwy babbeh by the scruff with her mouth. You beg “Mummah pwease can babbeh haf upsies! Babbehs weggies sweepie an’ tummeh haf saddies!” Your mummah ignores you and walks down the direction you pointed out.
You and mummah round the corner, you once again see the sketty place. You run forward and stand in front of it, looking at the two foals already in there. “Why haff saddies nyu babbeh fwens?” You ask after you noticing that the two babbehs are sitting with their front wegs sticking out of the bars and crying and sniffling.
“Mummah teww babbehs tu gu get sketties, bu nuu-huu-huu get sketties and nuu-huu-huu can weave, d-den mummah weave babbehs! Pwease wet babbehs owt!” One of the foals replies, his voice raw and crackly as if he had been yelling for hours.
Your mummah reaches the cage and says “Dummeh babbehs nuu steaw bestest babbehs sketties! Weave naow!”
The trapped foals cry in response “Wan weave, nuu-huu-huu wan sketties nu mowe! Buh nuu-huu-hu can weave!”
Your mummah says to you “Wowstest babbeh! Guu in dewe and get sketties! Den mummah gif miwkies and cweanies!”
“Buh mummah! Uddah babbehs say dey nu abwe tu weave an nuu get sketties!” You reply, pointing at the babbehs inside the cage.
'n dewe naow! If yu wan miwkies ebah again wowstest babbeh." Your mummah spits. Why does she have to be so mean?
"Nuu-huu-huu w-wan guu mummah…"You say, cowering, belly to the floor, ears held tightly back.
“Mummah gif babbeh wowstest owies if babbeh nu gu in dewe naow!” Your mummah says standing above you, holding a hoof over your head.
“O-otay mummah n-nuu wan owwies.” You say cowed, your ears flat against your head. Slowly you push open the gate. As soon as you are in the cage the gate closes behind you with a clatter.
You turn around and trying to open the gate, but your mummah yells “Babbeh! Why yu nuu guu get sketties! Get sketties now!”
You turn around and are accosted by the two other babbehs in here with you. Yammering “Pwease hewp babbeh get sketties! Suu hungwy!” But you push them away, they go and cry and hug each other in the corner “Huu-huu babbehs suu hungwy and nee dwinkie suu bad! Ewwyone suu meany! Dey nebah gon wet babbehs owt box!” One whines as you circle the inner cage that is holding the sketties unable to see any way in.
“Mummah, babbeh nuu know how tu get sketties!” You rush to the ‘exit’ and bang your head hard on the gate. “U-HUU-HUU! Mummah! Babbeh haf wowstest owwies!” You try to slowly push the gate open but you can’t get it to budge and as you push harder your head starts to really hurt, you lie down and start to cry and huu, rubbing you head.
“Second bestest babbeh! Guu in an get sketties for bestest babbeh! Wowstest bebbeh tu bad an dummeh tu get sketties! an dey hate yu.” Your mummah says clearly flustered by your stupidity.
“M-mummah, Babbeh nuu wan get stuck wike wowstest bwudda.” Second bestest babbeh says, while backing away from the gate.
“Dun wowwy second best babbeh. Yu am gud babbeh! Neawy smartie as bestest babbeh.” Your mummah says.
“O-otay mummah.” Second best babbeh says as they go through the gate, the gate closes behind second best babbeh as she starts to circle the central cage. Of course she doesn’t manage to get inside, she tries to open the gate and leave and it once again it stays closed. “Mummah! Babbeh nuu can get owt! Pwease hewp!” Second best babbeh says starting to cry.
You go up to second best babbeh and say “Babbeh hewp!” Both of you together still can’t open the gate. While your mummah starts to get angry outside the cage.
“Dis why yu am wowstest babbeh an onwy second bestest babbeh! Bestest babbeh! Yu guu in an show how get sketties!”
“Otay mummah! Bestest babbeh show dummehs how get sketties wike a smawteh babbeh!” Standing tall bestest babbeh puffs up his cheeks and walks through the gate and it once again closes behind him, he quickly circles the inner cage, hitting the cage trying to open it, after this doesn’t work he says “Stupeh sketties, come tu smawteh babbeh!”
The sketty is unmoved.
“M-mummah, bestest babbeh nu can get tu sketties.” And he tries to leave like his worstest brother and second bestest sissy, he pushes his head against the door and is doesn’t open, he kicks and shoves the door and it doesn’t do anything. “Mummah! Mummah hewp! Babbeh am stuck!”
“Bestest babbeh why stuck? Get owt! Yu need miwkies! Siwwy babbeh gu in an get bestest babbeh owt!” Your mummah shouts, clearly much more worried by losing bestest babbeh than wowstest or second best.
Siwwy babbeh doesn’t listen or move, so your mummah pushes him through the gate, it closes behind siwwy babbeh and he is stuck as well. Your mummah is speechless for a moment before bursting into tears over losing bestest babbeh! She tries to get through the door but her nose is all that will fit through, she starts pacing around and around the cage.
The 5 non-retarded foals are all crying for their mummahs, “Why muh mummah weave!” “Mummah Pwease get babbeh owt!” “U-huu-huu smawteh need miwkies… suu suu hungy… mummah bestest babbeh is weawy hungeh!” Only at bestest babbehs cry does mummah stop and actually try to do anything.
“B-bestest babbeh nee miwkies?” She sits down with her teats sticking through the bars, bestest babbeh rushes to the bars and starts to suckle.
One of the original trapped foals, walks up to your mummah “Pwease udda mummah, bwuddah and babbeh suu hungeh, pwease can haf miwkies?”
“Nuu! Miwkies onwy fo bestest babbeh!” And she kicks the bars scaring the foal away.
The two original foals, your second bestest sissy and you start to hug together, crying for mummahs that didn’t care.
< Be animal control, it’s a shit job but pays the bills.
< Assigned to fluffy control so the job is shit in several literal ways.
< Glad that the control bought foal cages, it makes my job so much easier.
< Just drive around, occasionally snapping foal necks and swapping cages.
< Walking down an alleyway towards one of the traps.
< Hear some out of tune singing, clearly from fluffies.
< Turn a corner, see the cage.
< Four foals hugging in one corner.
< A dead foal that looks drowned in its own piss.
< And a mummah feeding the fattest foal through the bars.
< Sneak up on her.
< They are singing some retarded song “Mummah wuv babbeh, gib bestest babbeh miwkies, gib miwk-URK”
< Grab her and wring her neck.
< Used to be crap at it, but 4 months of practice pays off.
< The very fat baby the mother was feeding shouts “Wah yu du tuu mummah! Dummeh human wet smawteh owt stupeh box!”
< The other four foals cower in the corner of the cage, mewling “P-pwease nice mistah wet owt boxie, suu hungeh, nuu gif owwies pwease!”
< Enjoy playing games with the foals. (don’t judge me, its the only fun I get to have in this job).
< “Okay I’ll let you out, but bad babies get owwies.”
< “Dummeh humin wet bestest babbeh owt first!” Always fun breaking a bestest baby.
< “Okay, you first. No skin off my back you volunteering like that.”
< Pick up the squirming foal.
< Ask it “Are you a smart baby?”
< “Yes dummeh human! Am smawtest fwuffeh ebah! Mummah sed so!” Oh-ho-ho you are so fucked.
< Stare down at the foal for a moment.
< “Smart babies are bad babies and bad babies get owwies.”
< Snap the smarties neck, dropping it next to its mother.
< “So who’s next?”
< No response. the foals silently looking at the dead mummah and smarty.
< "Okay you will do.’ Pick up the dead baby.
< “Are you a talky baby?”
< Obviously there is no response.
< “Non-talky babies are bad babies and bad babies get owwies.”
< Snap it’s neck.
< Foals start huu-huu’ing and talking.
< “Who is next?”
< A chorus of “Babbeh next! Am gud babbeh! Wan owt boxie!”
< Picking up the pink foal ask “Do you want your mother?”
< “Y-yes! Mummah weft babbeh and bwuddah in boxie.” It’s fucking desperate, pointing at its red brother.
< “Bad babies want their mother, and bad babies get owwies.”
< Snap its neck.
< Pick up the brother that was so kindly pointed out.
< “Do you want your mummah?”
< “Y-Nu Nu wan mummah!” The red one cries.
< Nearly… thankfully this one has at least one brain cell.
< “Bad babies don’t want their mother and bad babies get owwies.”
< Snap it’s neck.
< Reach down for the blue foal.
< “Do you want to get out of the box?”
< “Yes! Yes! Babbeh wan owt boxie!” The blue one cries.
< “Bad babies want out of the nice box.”
< Snap it’s neck.
< Pick up the last foal, terrible colours yellow and brown, covered in shit.
< “Do you want to get out of the box?”
< “Nuu! Nuu! Babbeh am gud! Nu wan out boxie!” The last foal cries.
< “Okay. Suit yourself.”
< Put the foal back in the trap
< Leave
