Part Eleven
“Looks like he’ll be fine,” Mik said, holding Smokey gently and examine his leg. “The bleeding’s stopped already. Still, just to be safe I’ll wrap it in bandages to keep him off it for a few days so it can heal. Honestly, though, he’s lucky; the wound isn’t that deep and it missed any major arteries.”
Smokey looked mournfully at Sam. "Smokey am sowwy. Nu nyo sketties nu am fow poopie babbeh. Nu wan make Aqua angwy."
“Listen,” Sam said through clenched teeth. “You are not a poopie babbeh. There are no poopie babbehs or bestest babbehs. Those sketties were for you, and Aqua shouldn’t have tried to take them. Once your leg is bandaged I’m going to give you another bowl, but don’t you ever call yourself poopie babbeh again. Understand?”
“Smokey undastand.”
Mik finished bandaging the leg and handed the foal over to Sam. “I take it Aqua’s in the sorry box? I’ll take a look at her while you take care of Smokey.”
Sam grunted an affirmation and carried Smokey into the saferoom. Seeing him mostly unharmed, the other fluffies began to chatter happily; they’d probably been worried about him. After refilling his bowl, she left the foal to eat and try to recuperate.
“It’s a pretty bad sprain,” Mik told her when she returned to the living room, looking over Aqua. “Got a couple of cracked ribs maybe, but nothing worth taking her to the clinic for.” He dropped Aqua back into the sorry box, drawing another yelp of pain.
“I thought for sure it was broken.”
“She’s just being a drama queen. Don’t let her manipulate you. But Sammy,” Mik lowered his voice. “What are you going to do about her? She’s not full-blown smarty yet, but if nothing changes she’ll get there.”
“I don’t know, Mik. I know I can’t keep her around the others, and she definitely needs punishment, but I’m not sure what to do.”
“For starters, I’d take away that horn of hers. She can’t be trusted with it. If you don’t want to do anything permanent, we can always just glue a button on the end and it’ll be safer for the others. But she’s much bigger than Smokey and Victor only has three legs, so if she wanted to she could still really hurt them.”
“I know. I just hate the options we have. I don’t want to pillow her, and smarty treatment would just kill a foal. That leaves getting rid of her, which I don’t want to do for Hope’s sake.”
“Not…quite. There’s another option, but it’s still very much experimental. I have a few test kits, and I know how to use them, but it’s barely better than pillowing.”
“What is it?”
“Paralysis collar. Well, the company that makes them calls them “Nu-Wun” Collars, but realistically they’re paralysis collars. Have a little probe that goes into the fluffy’s spine and use an electrical signal to paralyze the fluffy’s legs. Basically pillowing, but reversible and the more premium model has the option to turn it on or off with a remote control or a phone app.”
“That sounds really expensive, Mik.”
“$4,000 for the normal, $8,000 for the premium, from what they’ve told me. They aren’t going to replace pillowing any time soon. I have a few experimental models for testing, but honestly we don’t get that many ill-behaved fluffies at the shelter, since most people aren’t willing to help a bratty fluffy. If you want, I can put one on Aqua. I might need feedback on how it’s working though, since the free kits were intended for testing.”
“I don’t know. It sounds really risky. A needle in her spine might kill her.”
“Well, out of the twelve trial’s I’ve personally done, eleven were successful and the last fluffy was permanently paralyzed. I wouldn’t expect quite those odds with a foal, even if she it getting to be pretty big. Still, even worst-case it shouldn’t be at bad as pillowing.”
“Well, it’s a better choice than the other options I have right now, so I guess that’ll work. How long will it take?”
“If we take her now we can be done today, but it might be a bit late if you have anything planned for tomorrow.”
“No, that’s fine. I need to go talk to Hope for a second first, though. The carrying crate’s by the front door if you want to get Aqua ready. You might want to empty her first, given how she’s been acting.”
“I’m not going to empty a foal with cracked ribs, Sam. I deal with worse fluffies every day, I can handle a bratty foal.”
Sam didn’t respond as she walked to the saferoom. Seeing her there, Hope flinched, but obediently walked over to receive her punishment.
“Hope, turns out Aqua’s fine. She was just being dramatic, so no sorry stick. But don’t do it again, okay?”
“Otay. Tank 'ou, mummah.”
“You’re welcome. Now I need to go for a little while. Keep an eye on the foals while I’m gone, please.”
…
In the operating room Aqua lay strapped to the table. She’d given up trying to get free a few minutes ago, but she still occasionally strained to move.
“Don’t move,” Mik said. “You said you had the worstest hurties, so now I have to see what’s wrong.”
Aqua seethed, realizing her own dramatic behavior was why she was stuck here. Worse still, it hadn’t even let her avoid the sorry box, since she’d been stuck in one for the entire trip to the clinic. Still, she didn’t regret her choice, she just hated that the stupid humans had somehow not been fooled.
Her internal ranting was interrupted by an agonizing stabbing pain in the back of her neck. She scree’d and thrashed, but was held still by the straps, unable to escape. She scree’d until her breath ran out, then fell silent, gasping raggedly.
The meanie doctor held something up in front of her. It was a flying-stingie monster! Her attempts to escape redoubled, but the straps still held.
“Woah there. It’s okay, the stingie munstah tried to give you the worstest hurties, but I caught it. I’ll put it in the sorry jar so it can’t hurt you again.”
Aqua calmed a bit. Maybe the doctor wasn’t such a meanie after all. She felt a gentle hand lift her as the restraints were removed, but also felt something wrap around her neck, closing around it softly but with no yield.
“Aqua nu wan cowwar! Cowwar am fow barkie-munstah, nu am fow fwuffies!”
“It’s not a collar, Aqua. You hurt your neck when you fell, so you need to keep that on. If you don’t the neck hurties could get worse. It might not hurt now, but if it gets worse it could give you the worst hurties and maybe forever-sleepies.”
Aqua froze hearing this. She didn’t want hurties or forever-sleepies! The doctor set her in a comfy nestie, and told her to stay still. He said she’d be able to go home soon.
…
“A wasp? Really?”
“It works every time. Fluffies aren’t great at telling fake wasps from real ones, and it’s better that they blame a wasp than me when I put the needle in.”
“I guess if it works. How long will it be before she’s ready to be moved?”
“She’d be fine to move now, but I need to explain how the collar works. It’s pretty simple, but better safe than sorry. Also, I should show you how to use the microphone function.”
“Thanks, Mik. This means a lot. I didn’t want to have to have her pillowed.”
“Don’t worry about it. If you could tell me how it’s working every so often so I can make reports that’d be great, though.”
Sam listened to the quiet sobs from the carrier/sorry box sitting on the seat beside her. She’d pulled all the blankets and padding out of it, and was running the heater as little as she could while still finding it tolerable herself, so Aqua was cold and miserable. Still, it was all Sam could do to not pick up the carrier and shake it around; she was still livid.
“Aqua,” she said suddenly, pulling into a parking lot and stopping the car. “The doctor told me that you’ve been such a bad fluffy that your leggies are very, very angry. He said if you keep being such a bad fluffy they might run away, and then you’d be a no-leg fluffy.”
“Bu’ bestest babbeh nu du nuffin wong! Onwy gib poopie babbeh huwties fow take sketties! Sketties am onwy fow pwetty babbehs!”
Sam pressed a button on the little controller Mik had given her, and suddenly there was a cry of horror from the carrier.
“Wy weggies nu wowk? Bestest babbeh nu wan be dummeh nu-weggie babbeh!”
“You were such a bad fluffy that your leggies don’t want you to be able to run or play or give huggies. If you keep being such a bad fluffy they might run away for good!”
“Bu’ babbeh am gud babbeh!”
“If you were a good babbeh your leggies wouldn’t be so mad. Maybe you should think about what you’ve done and try to be a better fluffy.”
"Pwease hewp bestest babbeh! Wan weggies! Wan wun an’ pway an’ hab huggies!
“Only bad babbehs call themselves bestest babbeh, Aqua. If you keep this up your leggies will run away soon, maybe even tonight!”
“SCREEEEEEEE! NU WAN WOSE WEGGIES! PWEASE HEWP AQUA!”
“That’s a little better. Now, what do we call the gray babbeh?”
“Smokey, mummah.”
“Is Smokey a poopie babbeh?”
“Nu…”
“Good! Now, what do we call the red babbeh?”
“Victow.”
“Is Victor a dummeh babbeh?”
“Nu!”
“Very good. What do we call the yellow babbeh?”
“Sunbeam, mummah.”
“And is Sunbeam a munstah babbeh?”
“NU!”
“Very good. What do we call the blue babbeh?”
“Aqua.”
“And is Aqua the bestest babbeh?”
“N…nu…”
“That’s good. Now, what are all babbehs?”
“Gud babbehs!”
Sam pressed a different button on the controller, and Aqua cried out in joy as her her back legs began to work again. “Looks like you were such a good fluffy that your back leggies aren’t too mad anymore. Maybe if you keep being such a good fluffy your front leggies will work, too!”
…
At home, Sam brought Aqua into the saferoom, setting her down carefully as the foal still couldn’t use her front legs. Although normally the fluffies would be asleep by now, it seemed they were too worried to fall asleep. Well, now was as good a time as always for the speech.
“Aqua was being a very bad fluffy,” she began, causing Aqua to gently sob. "She was so bad her leggies might run away, then she wouldn’t be able to run or play or give huggies ever again. Right now, her front leggies are so mad they won’t let her run or play. But if she’s a good fluffy her leggies might start working again.
“I know you’re all angry at her, but please be nice to her. She’s still a bad fluffy, but if she tries she can become a good fluffy again. But until then she won’t be able to run or play, and she’ll need help getting to the litterbox to make good poopies and pee-pees. Please be nice to her, don’t be bad fluffies like she is.” The fluffies collectively flinched each time Sam said bad.
“It might take many forevers before she’s a good enough fluffy to be able to run or play again. In the meantime, I want you to help her move around. Now, I think Aqua has something she’d like to say.”
“Aqua am sowwy fow caww Smokey poopie babbeh an’ gib huwties an’ steaw sketties.”
“Aqua, where do bad fluffies go?”
“Bad fwuffies go in da sowwy box.”
“Are you a bad fluffy?”
“Aqua…Aqua am bad fwuffy.”
“That means you go in the sorry box. Starting tomorrow, you’ll spend half of each bright time in the sorry box until you’re a good fluffy again.”
“Aqua…undastand.”
“Good.”
Sam was a big relieved. It seemed that they’d caught it early enough, and maybe Aqua could be saved. It would be a long and painful road for the little fluffy, but hopefully it would end with her being a good fluffy. If not, well, things would get a lot worse for the both of them.
Part Thirteen
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Wow. I gotta say. This is intriguing. The new take on pillowing but not really is damn good.
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Compared to modern medical tech that can partially or completely reverse paralysis in some cases via an implant, causing paralysis is a pretty simple task. To be honest, cost or a desire to cause suffering are the only reasons I can think of for why amputation would be the norm, rather than a rare case.
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I love this, pretty intensive punishment and treatment without being excessive or outright abusive.
Probably will get quicker/better results at correcting bestest babbeh syndrome than my attempts at smartie-friend training.
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It helps that they caught it on the first major incident, rather than it being covered up by the mummah for weeks before they realized.
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I’m absolutely ecstatic that Hope smacked the shit out of her. It was cathartic as a reader to see a good momma stomp that shit out.
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Hope has zero tolerance for that kind of fluffery. She’s been through too much to have that kind of patience.
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Hope: "If Hope be cawwed bad mommah den it am gun be fow whoopin m’babbeh for poppin off dan fow waisin a ‘bestest babbeh’ "
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While I’d like to see Aqua reform, I still think this is going to end in blood and death.
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Very good read! And interesting possibilities! I do hope she isn’t somebody’s first sexual experience she’s now effectively an enfie mare rather than a huggy fluffy.
Since one of front legs is injured she wouldn’t be able to walk anyway, so keeping them paralyzed is also for medical reasons so she doesn’t make the hurt leg any worse.
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Ah, true. Still, there’s potential for bad things.
Hmmm. Paralysis collar,ey?
(Pluck idea from story and shamessly shoves into the ‘stealin sack’)
Really good ideas, adding this story to my catch up list! 
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Well lets all hope that thing will help Aqua back to what she was than being a bestesh if not, its up to Sam to the shelter or pillow which both are a nono from her.
~considers seriously for a good thirty seconds before pressing the button~ x
4k for a shock collar?! It better use nanomachines to integrate itself into the nerves/ act as a personal maid at that price. A needle zapping a spine ain’t 4k, wifi capability ain’t 8k!