Hello Everyone! I just joined up with the fluffy community and wanted to try my hand at writing something. I intend to tell this story in part separated by chapters.
Please enjoy and let me know below!
Finn’s Fluffies
By: Jbuny459
Phineas (Finn by his friends) Buckleer never thought of himself as an animal lover and rather avoided owning or caring for one as the fear of all the responsibility that came with it. The constant feeding, cleaning and need for attention would probably have made him go insane years ago. This was nearly solidified nearing the Hasbio disaster and the unfortunate early release of what they called the “fluffy pony”.
He always imagined it like owning a never shutting up never ending shit factory, where it babbled its entire existence until someone would do the world a favor and snuff it out. Or more likely the damn thing would drown or find a way to kill itself. Which happened a lot more often than some like to believe. They also had an almost irritating speech pattern that was designed to gather children’s attention, as that was their intended market.
An “interactive Bio-toy” They called it. It had cons that far outweighed the pros, Finn thinning something more of a scam than a decent play mate for tiny children. It wasn’t until a friend of his actually managed to get a hand on one and invited him over did he actually start to see some potential in these things.
He had a bright purple and white maned unicorn fluffy. It had very pretty colors and a decent manner to it. She never begged for food or wrecked his home with its constant crapping. He had read all kinds of horror stories of them being awful, spraying shit everywhere and the need to beat them. Something about that never sat right with him. They were like children, but you had to beat them to discipline? Sure spankings were given out to the common brat.However some people revelled in hitting these things
According to his pal, the fluffy came litter trained and behaved, barely anytime he actually had to hit the poor thing with what they called a “sorry stick”. This one even said “please” and “thank you” when it received scratches behind the ears. Finn was impressed, until he heard the price tag on them.
It made him shoot beer out of his nose in shock. This scared the purple mare scurried away. It cried “scawwy wawas!” as it bounded back to its safe room. Apparently the vendor he got it from takes time to train them so the owner doesn’t have to, and charges premium prices for it. Not to mention it had desirable colors which always drove the price up on them. They come pre-programmed already with commands and “Best Fluffy” behavior.
This visit changed his view on them and could instantly see the appeal in person. They were a great gift for the older generation and could even be good for children learning discipline as it gave them something to care for that didn’t need the high attention of a dog. And didn’t need to be placed in a small cage like a rodent. Something that interacted back and responded.
This got the attention of Finn immediately, even concocting a plan to get in on this fluffy craze.
…
It started with pooling of all funds he made from working his current office job. He was the number man for a state-wide insurance company. Worked there for years now as the treasurer. He was always looking for something different. His own parents were desk-jockeys and didn’t want to end up like them. Plus he was getting up there in years at the age of 35 and was stable enough to try something with a bit more profit to it.
He knew he couldn’t waste his time with trying and waiting for breeding and opted for the shelter first to get up and running as it would draw in crowds of unwanted fluffies. This would ensure he could get state funding as they would pay a high amount to anyone who could shelter fluffies or at the very least get them off the streets or out of the gutters where they were constantly found clogging up the steel pipes with their filth. And so he searched around for a property that could host what he needed done. This became a trying task until he found a place that suited both purposes.
Just on the outskirts of the city, laid an abandoned children’s daycare. It sat there for over a decade never seeing the light of day due to its rather far location from the central metropolis. It was a one story building with a central lobby area and had two winged branching hallways that led to classroom sized areas. Double doors separated each space, with a longer hallway that connected both branches to each wing. Two municipal restrooms were located here as well. In the back it had two dumpster spots for the city to pick up trash weekly and even a kitchen that was half finished. This featured four central long counter tables that cut through the room, and had built-in floor drains would make for really great fluffy cleanup had the need for such to happen. In the back had a pineboard fence and grassed area that used to serve as an outdoor play area for the children. It was decent sized with a bricked garden that laid along its western wall. The parking lot was fairly large too, and featured a massive forest near the edge of the suburb. It was a cute location with a scenic view and close enough to the outer city for decent traffic. It was perfect for a small start up with very little competition in the area and rent was fairly doable.
Finn signed the line, shook a hand with the property manager and the building was his. He immediately ordered renovations to enact his vision. This included a full remodel of the grounds to plant flowers, pull weeds and clean the brick on the outside of any moss buildup. The inner floor saw the most work with half its walls redone and flooring pulled up. Finn had the workers split the building into two sections: The right side would include the shelter and breeding areas.There they would hold any fluffies pulled off the streets or unwanted by the public if he had the space. This is also where the dropoff fluffies would go and the “bad fluffies” including any smarties that would come through those doors.
The left would be converted into smaller safe rooms for fluffies that were behaved and well trained, this would also include them being shown off to the public as merchandise. This saw the most work and included padded floors, central heating, and a complete makeover to the interior. Using bright colors to paint pretty pictures to make it the ideal shop. The lobby area would be converted into a front desk and a fluffy drop off chute would be added to the outside of the building. This metal chute was connected to the end of a fluffy pen leading into the shelter. It was full of hay flooring, water, and food for the new ones as they arrived. Finn thought it best to not have them shown to the public as he feared abuse cases being seen to his soon, well paying customers.
Within the last two months, the reconstruction of the daycare had been successfully and swiftly completed. The last thing to go on was the sign, a bright neon pink board with a giant dumb looking smiling fluffy face with its eyes wide at the end of the text saying “Finn’s Fluffies and Shelter”. It was crude, to the point and flashy. The lettering saying “Shelter” was in smaller print. This was done on purpose as he didn’t want to run just a business on abusers flying in alone. He read online that shelters usually are a hangout for them as these fluffies were cheap. His pet shop would be where he would sell the best product… It was perfect. Finn even managed to find some good help before the opening thanks to online applications and a few interviews. He brought on staff, including a front desk worker who was a manager for a local pediatric dentist to handle all paperwork and intake.
He also hired a retired vet tech who would handle all the healthcare of intaken fluffies and current residents. She even knew how to do fluffy operations and provided services such as pillowing and milk-bagging. She also was an expert in fluffy behavior and health having worked with them at the vet hospital she was previously employed at.
He also hired two back stage workers able to do the grunt jobs when Finn couldn’t or didn’t want to. This included taking out the garbage, feeding the fluffies and managing the cages. Finn would do most of the owner’s work and keep the place up and running. This included doing a lot of paperwork for the state and sending out fluffy intake forms to prove he did indeed have fluffies taken off the street. But he always found time to help around and do most of the ground work, he actually found fluffies endearing sometimes and almost cute in their innocent way they babble about wanting to be happy. Though this would turn to loathing later on as they became slightly grating.
Two years of working his business has ended pretty much any patience he had for the bratty and demanding ones. And dealing with wandering herds has filled him with almost a rage for those specific types. His main hatred came from the ones that claim themselves as “Smarties”. They would puff their cheeks up, demand attention, and then defecate over anything they wanted to. It was foul, and the pungent nearly endless smell of shit and piss withered his nose to the point he thought he thought he would lose his sense of smell. In the beginning he was never big into the abuse or killing of fluffies, but after a few herds and the awful after holidays where the chute and pens would be filled to the brim with unwanted crap factories made him loathe them more and more. Though that was also the best time for his shelter business to boom as abusers from every corner of the tri-state area would come looking for cheap abuse foals. He made a killing on selling the terrible color ones at a great bargain, much to the dismay of the mares who would plead and beg for the “Bad mistah” to not take their “onwy babbehs”. He bred some of the shelter fluffies, so it was never just one litter at a time. And it was a steady source of income when his trained fluffies business slowed down. Some even produced good colors in which he would swiftly move them into the nice shop so his small team could raise them right. Constant babbling of not “Taken bestest babbeh” would ring out to all the sad shelter fluffs wishing to be let out. Some even got stuck in the “wan die” loop. In this case, FInn would grant them this if they weren’t of any use to him. He would make it quick, or extremely slow depending on if they pissed him off or not. Then their bodies would be thrown into the incinerator he had repurposed from an oven that came with the unfinished section of the kitchen. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even tell them and toss’ em in, letting them scream before slamming the metal door on them to shut it up. Cleanup was super easy at that point. All they would need to do was filter out the ashes and deposit them into the bio-waste bin. No blood or shit would stain the floors. And if they did, they were easily hosed down and into the central drain. Finn found himself in the middle freezing month of January. The holiday season came to its end. This meant a lot more fluffies would be prepped in the shelter and bitchy customers asking if they can return their behaved fluffy for a full refund. Most of the time, if they weren’t in bad condition. Finn would sometimes oblige them if there were no signs of abuse which were fairly easy to spot. He wouldn’t take a broken fluffy back if it was sold in good condition, part of his contract when signing over any merchandise. Here we find Finn as he navigates this winter season in his fluffy shop and shelter.
…
Finn woke up to the sound of birds chirping through his apartment window. It was odd, usually the alarm did the heavy lifting in the morning to greet him, and yet, this was his doing and was up before then. Eyes stung, groggy from staying up too late once more to get “one more” game in. He couldn’t help it, the escapism of blasting baddies on whatever new shooter was out for console was like a siren’s song. It lulled him into battle and demanded more time from him. Thankfully he wouldn’t have to be into work early as he was the closer.
He released a long groan and reached out arms, stretching up to greet the ceiling before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and launching. Feet found the carpeted ground and off to the kitchen. A couple of button presses on the instant coffee machine and the heavenly aroma of the java filled up the already small one bedroom apartment. Finn fumbled with the creamer, pouring in a generous amount and stirred it around vigorously. Wanting it to be more sweet than bitter before taking a fast swig, letting the warm liquid enter the system before pulling out his phone. Still early in the morning and he had about two hours before work, this was great. He took another swig before speaking out loud “I can get in a quick match..” His eyes locked with the TV.
…
Finn made a quick right turn on a single road leading up a small hill, accelerating slightly to push the truck he drove up towards a structure that peaks slightly above the horizon. It was an easy drive, one they have done for about two years now as he arrived at work. What greeted him was the shelter and shop’s one floor brick building, with a double door entrance that perfectly aligned in the middle of the building. The rest of the compound stretched backwards before reaching a clearing of some trees that spilled downwards into a dense forest that sprawled horizontally for miles on end without any end in sight.
The large sign greeted anyone in the parking lot with its black bold words reading out “Finn’s Fluffies”. Below it in fine print, barely eligible until you get close stating “Drop off and walk in’s welcome!” with an arrow pointing to a noticeable silver handled hood to the right of the entrance against a sidewalk. The fluffy chute was designed for easy drop off. Didn’t want your shit-rat anymore? Or found a stupid wandering fluff? Drop it here and let your problem be someone else’s. The chute itself has seen a lot of use in its years. Something Finn took subtle pride in as it reflected his business and work with the state. Clearing fluffies off the street always granted him a good bonus funding, especially during the cold months of winter. Wandering herds were a plenty, looking for shelter and help.
Finn zipped up his thick jacket and took a boot step out from his red truck. He had on some thick jeans that barley kept the cold air off him. A single work t-shirt and his jacket were the only things keeping him away from the freezing cold.
He locked his truck and started making his way toward the doors, combing back the thick hair with a slick hand before pressing forward and pulling the handle gently. A low chime went off as he stepped through the doorway. Instantly the warmth of the building’s heat sent goosebumps up his spine and the smell of fresh pine scented aerosol hit him with great intensity. So much better than huffing in fluffy litter like other shelters in the area.
A large, rounded front desk check laid in the middle back area of the room sat. a raised ceiling with light buzzed inaudibly. The desk itself had a warm almost chocolate color to it. It was lacquered and polished many times over, reflecting the lights above with great intensity. Behind the desk were last minute fluffy supplies including a cardboard take home carried that represented a small house with plenty of holes and a viewing area for the fluffy to stick its head out of the box. Atop the desk laid two large monitors that nearly hid a woman behind.
“Mr Finn!” A petite voice came calling. It was slightly muffled behind the display. “How are you this morning?”. The figure revealed itself, standing up to greet him. What stood below him was a short, red-headed woman. She had a washed out yellow t-shirt with the same logo as the sign outside, tucked inside tight jeans that looked like they have seen a few too many work days. They were nearly faded and little hole rips on them gave away their use. She did not wait for his response. “I have everything ready for today sir. Emerson and Amelia arrived to open for you as always.” She finished before giving a warm, genuine smile.
“Thanks, Jess”, Finn replied with the same warmth, before approaching the desk and going through some papers neatly piled up in front of her. He licked a single finger and sifted through each intake page and list of things the business needed today. “Wow, no new drop offs?” He asked, perplexed. Jess bit her lip and nodded.
“I was shocked too I know, with the holidays being mainly over we usually get the odd drop off. Kids getting bored with their “Christmas fluffy” or parents sick of taking care of these shit-rats”. A hair fell outta place when she said “shit” and she quickly blew it back into place with a gust of air from her lips. Finn let out a chuckle, “Yeah, do you remember that one last year? It was convinced it was there to spread the spirit of Christmas?” Jess smacked the desk with a meaty palm. “It was given out as an office gift to a family that doesn’t even celebrate!” They both erupted into a fit of laughter thinking about the fluffy who was stumped as to why they were constantly speaking about the “goodness” of holiday spirit and why they were given away without a second thought. This particular fluffy ended up in their care and would constantly preach to the other shelter fluffies about how charity and being good is the best. A crimson and green maned stallion was placed in the shelter section of the shop. This resulted most often than not, in the other fluffy being pummeled around by its peers on several instances. From being deemed as the “dummeh fluff” to even being “poopeh eater” for his puke green color, this fluffy didn’t last long until Finn was forced to remove it forever. He made it quick though. Had it recite a christmas carol before he stomped its head in with a single boot strike. It felt nothing, crapped its brains out and died better than most fluffs. They both wiped a laughing tear from their eyes and moved on.
“So tell me then, what’s on the itinerary today, anything good?” Finn spoke, placing the pile of papers back on the desk where they were found.
“Emerson claims he saw a mighty large feral herd entering the grounds by the entrance to the forest. But nothing there now, he could have seen one. Too early to tell.”
“Maybe they got a hint of the sketti-scenter I bought”. He scratched his chin. It was something that smelled like spaghetti and blew it with a small fan to attract herds. The garden in the back had a door where fluffies could enter but only one way. So most often than not they would claim this as their new home before Amelia and him could do intake. “Possbily? She continued. “Emerson also wanted to talk to you about Taffy…” Finn sighed. “Again with her? I’m telling you she is starting to get on my nerves.” Taffy was a designer fluffy with a large poofy tail. Finn had bought her from a breeder since she made good colors. But had a bad attitude with staff members, most often stemmed from her babies being taken away from her. Something he tried to train out of her.
Jess took the papers he put down and pulled them close to her chest. “Check in with him for the full breakdown. But that potential herd could mean more entries or…” She paused before swallowing. “More calls to the biohazard crew. You know we really need a bigger sign by the dumpster so these idiots stop throwing out their trash fluffies.
It wasn’t subtle: Jess did not like how most folks treated the removal of fluffies, even if she considered them “shit-factories”. “I’m tired of having to explain to the municipal guys why the trash was crying for “no more hurties”. She finished before sitting down in her chair, curling up against the desk and beginning her tasks for the day. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m gonna go check on Emerson. Thanks”. He said sincerely. “Walkie me if you need anything.” Finn waved over his shoulder and walked left, passing through the double doors that led to the adoption center.
This part of the compound was split into three large rooms separated by a brick wall and double doors. To the left of him and what took up the most space was the “good fluffy” safe room. It was a large, baby gated off section with lots of open space. This included padded floors with fake grass and lots of toy blocks and balls to play with.
A massive fluff pile laid in the corner, sleeping with subtle rises and falls. One purple unicorn was running in his dream and mumbling
“Mmmm wan sketties, gib bowwl. Nu runwaayy fwom fwuffy”. His tongue lulled out and drool came from it. Too early for them to wake up, Finn left them there, they seemed comfy enough not to be disturbed.
There was a small hole in the middle of the wall that led to the viewing room that connected to the lobby and the giant glass wall that customers could watch as the fluffies played. The inner section had food and water feeders for the fluffies when they were done playing. There was even a litterbox on this side to keep the initial horror of them shitting all over the place away from the initial public eye. Not to his surprise, laid some little fluff poops all made in the box.
To the right along the wall were smaller pens where potential adopters can play and feel out their fluffies. There stood four of them each, each fence a different bright color and a board with a number on them. This was a great way for adopters to see how a fluffy is up close before a purchase. This often than not saw them adopted, customers did appreciate how well trained Finn’s bred fluffies were. Near the back of the room had two waist high tables where the growing foals stayed. Separated by gender, each were weaned and ready to join the large group for fun and play time when they were big enough. Multicolor little fluff balls stirred a bit and peeped every now and again. Possibly out of habit as most were already over the whole baby phase. Adjacent to this was the “mummah” pen. This included another padded safe area for the current mothers to reside until all their babies were grown up and ready to be moved to the bigger foal pens. Mares who had just given birth were placed here, and free to raise their babies until they were weaned off milk. They were made aware of this, but most often than not would Finn have the occasional “nu take babbehs”, “am bestest babbehs ebbbahh and need wub!”. Finn would honestly keep them in a backroom others couldn’t see to make the weaning off easier. However, he found that customers found the mare mummahs adorable and it gave off a good vibe. He would also never sell just the mare, they were good breeders. If someone liked a breeding mare’s color, they could wait until their next batch and put a deposit down on a foal when they were of age. If an adopter was adamant about wanting to buy the mare for their own, they would have to take the entire family. His subtle way of telling others “no” when it came to who they could choose. He needed the breeder mares and most families didn’t want another four to six growing fluffs to raise. They were annoying with just one, imagining more than two would be a nightmare scenario. He often would refer them to the shelter if they were really looking for a family. Plenty of them to be found there, needing better homes than what he could provide. As of now, he had three mares with foals in this pen, with two of them sleeping. A pure white one with matching bright mane earthie he called “Snowball”. Another was a pastel pink and green manned pegasus he called “Daisy”. Each had six nursing foals at the moment.
Last and certainly least, he had Taffy. She was a cream colored earthie with a pastel red mane. She was up and awake, sitting on her haunches. She was feeding her little foals from her enlarged crotchtits and humming quietly and out of tune.
“Mummah wub babbehs, babbehs wub mummah… Dwink miwkies babbehs, want ouu biwg an stwong!” She cooed down at her four multicolored foals as they drank needly. They chirped and pepped non stop as they filled their bellies, licking their lips as it dribbled and pooled from them. Finn managed to approach slowly so as to not startle her.
“Hey Taffy, how are your babies today?” Finn asked and bent down to pet over her mane. She flinched before relaxing, even cooing at his touch.
“Hewwo nicee mistah! Twaffy am su happeh!” She smiled up at him as her young ones continued to feast. The mare picked up a similar color baby of hers, holding them between her leather hooves, holding it up for Finn to see. “Wook! Pwettiest of babbehs see pwaces owwpen!”
It was true, and Finn held out his open palms for mom to drop them in. She sniffed his hand and was hesitant before Finn gave her the frown and eyes he would always give before handing out sorry stick beatings… She reluctantly let the baby in his hands. Their eyes open and little wings flutter about. Its child-like babble comes out in little squeaks.
“Nyu daddeh fow bestes babbeh?” It looked at him with twinkles in its eyes. “Oh sorry little buddy. I’m not your new daddy. But I have some good news: You’ll be joining the other fluffs in the stallion pens right behind me.” Finn spoke and let the little stallion in his palms strut about. “Neww fwends to pway wiff!” He pranced with the little space given to him, much to the dismay of his mother. She had scrunched up her face, her snout curling back as eyes narrowed. “Nice mistah… No takke bestesttt babbeh… Bestest babbeh nweeds miwkies and huggies fwom mummah!” She pleaded to him and beckoned her other babies to be closer. Finn held her baby gently and sighed. “Now Taffy, we talked about this after your last round of foals. Once they are old enough for kibble they go with the others to play and hopefully get new mommies and daddies. He wasted no time in standing up and lowering the foal into the pen with the other sleeping stallions. He put up a finger to his lips and shushed the little foal letting him know the others were still “making sleepies”. He nodded and held his breath to not speak, before exploring his new pen. “Dat…Dat nu am faiw…” Taffy spoke in a low tone. It was almost unnoticeable, except for Finn who spun around slowly, looking down at her. “What did you just say?” He said sternly. His smile faded away as he walked and loomed over her, casting a shadow that made the mare’s eye go wide. “Dat… D-dat nu am faiw… Babbehs awe fow mummah… Wiww gib miwkies and wub. Nu yucckee kiiwbwwe.” She spoke slowly, Eyes lowered. She wished to avoid his gaze but had it in full swing. “Taffy, your babies are going to new homes, where they will get to play and be loved. And we talked about this before…” He reached down to console her, before she got on her hooves and beckoned her babies away from you. “Nuuu!” She stirred the other fluffy mommas awake with her shriek. “Nu am takies babbehs!” She puffed her cheeks up and hid the other peeping babies who were now scared behind her.
Finn just sighed and looked down at Taffy. This was her second batch and second time disagreeing with what they promised regarding her babies.
“Ou am munstah mistew! Owny tawke babbehs awwway fwom mummah!” She continued to shriek and the other fluffies in the pen woke up with a slight startle.
“Tawwffy, nu am bawd woowds to nice mistah!” Snowball pleaded with Taffy. “Ouu owny get wowstest huwties and sowwy bawks!” The mare in the pen held her little fluffs close as Taffy started to hyperventilate. She definitely did not want the sorry box. But she couldn’t let this meanie monster take her babies… Not again.
“Taffy…” Finn reached down for her to console her, trying to calm her down. She looked left and right, wishing for an escape from this pen. Run away with her babies that would feel her milk and love. Not seeing a fast solution to her problem. She dug her hooves in, stood up on hind legs… Waited for his hand to get closer…
NIP!
Taffy had opened her mouth and bit Finn right on the palm of his hand. The mares and other fluffies who heard and saw the chaos, stopped in their tracks and gawked… She had done the unthinkable. To Finn it was nothing more than a hard pinch as she let go. It left a slight red mark, indented flesh stung a bit before blood returned and everything was fine. She didn’t even break the skin. “Weave babbehs awone, dummy munstah!” She puffed her cheeks up to look intimidating. To Finn, this filled him with rage and he quickly like a flash of lighting. He struck her across the cheek with the same palm. This sent her snout hurtling into the padded floor with a tiny thud.
“Bad Taffy! You do not bite!” He yelled at her as those tiny eyes filled with tears that started to stream down her cheeks.
Huu huu!! Biggest owwies! Huu huu, no huwt Tawffy-” She didn’t finish as he smacked her once more causing piss to shoot from her and pool, getting soaked up in the fluff.
“You!
SMACK
“Don’t!”
SMACK
“Bite!”
PFFFTTRRRR
On his last hit, a torrent of scared fluffy shit curled out of her ass. He stopped afterwards as a small trickle of blood leaked from her nose. Her now well tenderized cheeks slightly swollen and indented with his hand mark were stained in her tears as she cried and tucked her tail in, pressing the crap into her body as the brown filth stained her once pretty clean fluff.
“Huu huu!!! No mowe huuwties! Tawffy am sowwy! ” She sniffled and huffed, breathing and gasping for air as her babies chirped and peeped in fear. Daisy and Snowball, held their babies close and whispered “no wook babbehs, dat am bad fwuffy..”
Finn wiped his brow of sweat and scruffed Taffy. “Oh you’ll be sorry alright.” “Eeeep! Bad uppies, put Tawffy downnn! Babbehs need mummah!! Huhuu!” She cried as Finn reached up on a shelf and retrieved the cardboard box big enough for an adult fluff to be in. He set her down with her facing the only opening big enough for her eyes to see out of. “You’re going in the sorry-box. You do not bite.” Finn said calmly, leaving her on the table before grabbing a shovel, ignoring her cries and demands as he scooped up her bad poopies. He was careful to not drop any as he carried it back over to the table where she was still crying to herself. “Wha am duuin wif-?” Tears stopped flowing from her eyes as she stared up at the shovel before he turned it over, letting them plop right in front of her. It landed with a slight splash. It coated her snout and chest fluff with its filth. The stench was foul and she tried to back up, hitting her rump with the back of the box. “Dat am bad poopies!” Her nose scrunched up from its horrific aroma. “That’s correct… You’re gonna clean all this up, and when you do. I will think about giving your babies back to you.” Finn spoke calmly before sealing the box top with a lid. This freaked out Taffy. “Nu wan num poopies! Am gud fwuffy!” She claimed as she started to “huu huu” again in her box. “Good fluffies do NOT bite. I want all those poopies gone. You’re not coming out until it’s done.” Finn said before holding the box slightly away from him. It truly reeked of fluffy shit and piss, it even had some leftovers from the last tenant who was in there… Then he had a most wicked idea and shook the box, up and down much to the dismay and whinings of Taffy inside. “Am covewed with bad poopiesss… huuu huu, no WAN!!!” She babbled inside her box much to the delight of Finn. He placed the box on a table and returned to the mother pen. Bending down and shushing his scared mothers. He assured them everything was fine and beckoned the white fluffy mother who tried to warn the now sorry-boxed Taffy. “Snowball, come here girl” He spoke calmly. The unicorn mare’s eyes went wide and she waddled over reluctantly with her babies trotting behind, peeping. “Y-yes mistah?” she asked quietly, her pure white mane looked frazzled, no doubt she was scared from what she just saw. It wasn’t rare for them to see discipline, but it made them behave even more. Finn reached out his open palm and she flinched, closing her purple eyes and waited for him to strike her. Instead she received nice, tender strokes along her head and back. She was like petting silk, easily one of the better cared for fluffies here, on account of her good behavior and being a designer fluff. “Tw- twied to wawn bad dummeh mummah… Bad mummah…” She cooed to the hand that was petting her. Finn sighed and scratched her ears. “I know you did, Snow. You’re a good mummah.” He offered her a genuine smile. “I need you to do me a favor: Since Taffy decided to be a bad fluffy, her babies are gonna need someone to look after them”. Finn scooted over to the babies that were Taffy’s and scooped them up, their eyes not quite open yet. What he was asking was difficult as he knew she had four other foals of her own she was watching. But he trusted her, and knew she would be up for the task at hand. “Can you do that for me, girl?” Snowball sniffed at the babies, her nose crinkled at the scent of fresh piss and crap before she nudged them with her snout. “Otay… Wiww hewp babbhes of dummie Tawffy”. She cooed at her new flock and began to lick them clean of Taffy’s mess. Finn turned around, walked by the crying sorry box and opened a freezer connected to the table, fishing out one red ice cube before offering it to Snowball. Daisy was too scared and was consoling her babies to notice. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Here, for you.” His voice was warm and genuine as she sniffed the frozen treat. “Sketti tweat!? Dis am da besttests nummies!” She was hyped as ever as Finn hushed her. “Only for good mummahs.” Finn stood back up and turned to walk away. In reality the cubes were marinara sauce he pours into ice cube trays and pops out for special occasions. He knows the fluffies couldn’t tell the difference and it was way cheaper than making batches of pasta or buying actual sketti treats. This was a great alternative and he trained his fluffies to not ask for sketti treats, they are given out very rarely. But he knows he needed to calm them down after hitting the literal shit outta Taffy. Plus, Snowball and Daisy? They were good fluffs, have been at the shelter for a while now and always produced some great colors. But it was there good attitude that he liked about them most. “Fank ouu nice mistah! Snowbaww wiww watch dummeh fwuffies babbehs!” Her face was stained with the red sauce as she licked the block clean. Finn walked away and grabbed the box with Taffy inside off the table, much to the whining and protests inside. He ignored her and pushed through double doors and a sign that read "EMPLOYEES ONLY” leading farther back into the building. This is were the breeding pens and where most of the foals were and other fluffies were kept before being moved to the shop room. Most of the discipline happened here. There were many cages stacked up against the walls with various fluffies inside. Some chatted with their neighbors gleefully while others cried about wanting out. Most of the fluffies in this room were also being monitored if they recently had been admitted or had gone through any procedure before being cleared for the shelf. This is also where one of the staff members can notice any undesirable habits, like smarty syndrome, or bitch-mare.
Next to the stack of pens was another baby gated off area with four separated stalls. Here are where the expectant mothers are kept. As of now Finn only had one expecting mother currently in the standby. She was a light blue unicorn with dark blue mane. Expecting soon as her tummy was starting to swell. She rocked back and forth and sang songs about being a good mummah. Finn named her Sky for her silky texture.
The other three were in the shop. And one of them was crying in the box he now had tucked under his arm. A large table in the middle split the room. This is where the stallions and mare’s could breed. It was waist high and had makeshift walls made out of plyboard that would encapsulate the fluffies from trying to run away from “Bad speshuw huggies”. But there also was a leather strap in which he could tie the mares down if need be.
“Huuu huuu, nu am smeww pwetty…” Taffy cried, nearly muffled in her cardboard prison. Finn shook the box slightly once more.
“I hear a lot of crying, not a lot of cleaning up…” He remarked which managed to shut her up.
This garnered the attention of a young man who stopped sweeping near the back of the room. He wore a similar yellow shirt tucked into jeans that looked a bit too loose for Finn’s liking.
“Mr Phineas! Good morning to you.” He waved and walked over to Finn with a half smile on his face.
“Please, Emerson. Just “Finn” is fine.” He remarked.
Emerson looked a bit red in the cheeks, embarrassed. “Y-yes of course, forgive me sir.” He scratched the back of his neck then his eyes trailed down to look at the box he had in his arms. “Ah jeez, who did you have to sorry-box?”
Finn slapped the top which caused the fluffy inside to yelp before settling again and crying once more. “Who do you think?”
“Taffy. I was gonna talk to you about her.” Emerson rolled his eyes. Clearly he had a feeling this was inevitable.
“She decided it would be best to bite me when one of her bestest babbehs was ready for the foal pen.” Finn just squinted in slight anger. “Second litter… Now she was bitchy with the first but this is the first real offense I’ve seen where punishment was needed”. Finn offered the box to Emerson which he took and reeled back, putting it as far away from him as possible.
“Did she shit herself? It reeks!” He quickly put her down on a counter and sprayed some aerosol to clear before flicking on two overhead fans and the exhaust.
“Oh yeah she did, so I scooped her sorry poopies and dumped it in with her. She is not to be let out until it’s all cleaned”. Finn looked a bit proud of himself for coming up with such a clever, and fitting punishment for her.
“Hmmmm… I’m starting to wonder if she is worth the trouble than she is at this point.” Emerson spoke, which raised an eyebrow from Finn. “What I mean to say…” He continued “I read her intake chart: She was a fluffy raised by a rich family, meaning she was raised spoiled. Hard to program that out of her, perhaps we should just… I don’t know, let her go?” He was cautious with his words, he didn’t want to trigger Finn in any way.
Finn looked at him and huffed a long breath of air out from the mouth. “You’re probably right, she produces really great colored foals though and her original owner claimed that she had alicorn in her blood. It’s hard to give that up. Maybe I’ll consider it… But I know the customers aren’t gonna like her personality. Some of them already had a problem when they wanted a closer look at her litter and she hid them. Its a bad first impression” He paused and pondered. The promise of an alicorn would be amazing, they were rare as it is and sold for a hefty price. Finn thought on this before speaking once more. “If we sell her, it would have to be cheap though- and that’s still an IF! .” He patted Emerson on the back. “Until then, she has to clean that box.”
“Understood.” Emerson nodded.
“If she isn’t eating it, place a single piece of kibble on that turd everyday until it’s spotless.” Anything else I should know? It looks great back here man.”
The young man smiled at the compliment and had a clipboard ready. “Not that I can think of. Though go check up on Amelia, she was asking for you. Something about a potential herd intake. I think I heard one this morning while taking out the trash?”
“Noted. Thanks, Emerson. Remember: a single grain of kibble for her.” Finn waved behind him and exited right through more double doors. He walked down a small corridor and passed some cleaning supplies and two bathrooms before pushing through more double doors.
This led into the mini-fluffy hospital they had set up. This was once an unfinished kitchen, but was scrapped and turned into what it is now. Two exam tables sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by various glass door cabinets and medical equipment lining the shelves. A large open sink was available and an eye wash station sat to the left as well. This was more often used to clean fluffy shit as this room could make them scared. Near the north exit was a red door. This led to an oven they used as a makeshift incinerator.
A long, black haired woman had her back to Finn across the room. Her white labcoat shone brightly under the surgical lights. He cleared his throat and approached.
“Joyce, good morning to you”. He said silently as to not startle her. She quickly glanced behind with a sharp eye before turning her entire body.
“Finn, good morning to you too”, She offered a subtle smile. Joyce was an older woman, in her late fifties. She originally was a vet tech for a local veterinarian but needed something less intense as she was looking for less dog bites in her retirement. Fluffies always needed some form of treatment and thanks how easy it was to treat them, it was a perfect fit for her. They were easy to lift, couldn’t cause any real damage and one could diagnose fairly easily. Especially since most fluffies would complain about issues they were having. Most intake issues were fluffies with upset tummies as they resorted to eating rotten garbage from the city or something poisonous from the forrest. Procedures she often did was pillowing and milkbagging.They offered pillowing to adopters should they choose this route as well as supplies for the newly pillowed fluffy. Most of the time she also did operations for existing fluffies. Broken legs, bee stings. Anything a fluffy might accidently do, she would stitch them up.
There were a few glass cages stacked neatly to the right of her, some with fluffies that she monitors before returning them to their owners. They were already up and whining about wanting out and not enough room. Some complained about wanting to go home and missing their safe room. They had a water feeder and kibble bowl. Maybe a block or two to play with if the owner left them with anything. Thankfully the room was soundproof, as was most of the other rooms here so no one in the lobby could hear the potential fluffy screams.
“I wanted to talk to you about Taffy…” Finn started before she threw up a single palm, beckoning him to stop. “Lemme take a guess, she didn’t want to give up this litter?” Her head tilted and lips pursed together. “In this case she didn’t want to give up her bestest baby. Even bit me trying to stop me from seeing the rest of the litter”. Finn showed her his palm. “I warned you about that one ages ago…” “Yeah, yeah I know, I just thought… Actually I shouldn’t be surprised. That behavior was given to her by previous owners”. His lips curl as Joyce takes his palm, inspecting it. “I could always pillow her.” “No way, the only thing worse than bitch-mare is a WHINY one with the constant babbling of “why no weggies” talk.” Finn mocked their voice speech as she placed a cold ointment and rubbed it on the bite mark. “Then let me remove her tongue”. “And let the other mares bully her for being a dummy fluff? Not at that point yet, but this is strike two for her. Emerson and I have her in the sorry box right now. We’ll monitor, however it might be time to let her go soon… Her litters have great colors.” Finn tried to rationalize to Joyce, she wasn’t having any of it. “If you want my opinion: We should either let her go or move into the shelter for cheap”. “She’s a designer fluffy, people will pick up on that immediately.That’s just bad business. Like a red flag.” He rebutted. “I want one more litter out of her, then I think we’re through with her”. Finn retracted his hand and thanked her. “Now that the snow season is over, we’ll probably have more herds coming in through the wooden fence. I’ll help with any intake, who knows? Might even get a good batch”. He often helped with intake as it can be a lot to do for one on site nurse. Finn surprisingly liked the herds, it was like gambling in a way. Some are great additions to the shelter and main stays, like Snowball was a rescue from a herd that wandered on their property. When she grew up did he realize her bloodline could produce good colors like her. There was no doubt she was half designer with her coat. “I wouldn’t say no to some help, thank you…” She paused before speaking once more as she saw him leave. “Always the option to milkbag her. The shelter gets filled up more often than not and we have many more mouths to feed”. He paused at the door that led into the shelter before turning his eyes toward her. “One more litter, then that may be the option we take.” He truly did appreciate her opinion but saw anything with amputation as a last resort. “I’ll get back to you”. He exited the clinic and entered the shelter section of the business. This was a stark contrast to what was presented in the shop. Dim overhead lights created a sense of dread as one entered this room. High ceiling fans and a raised roof gave it an almost warehouse industrial appearance. It also got could in here as he never directed heat into this part of the building. It savd on cost and kept the fluffies quiet as they sheltered one another for warmth. This was accompanied by the concrete flooring with small drain holes that were symmetrical with the hallway. On both sides, fence cages rose up to chest high with a pen for different fluffies housed. They had newspaper flooring with hay, some water and kibble that was stocked twice a day. The more difficult and sensitive fluffies lie to the back of the room, to the left of where Finn was standing. Small glass door cages that could hold up to two fluffies at most were full of crying fluffies who curled up into balls and stayed away as they saw him look into their cages. Two brown colored pillowed fluffies wept to eachother as the other tried to keep him calm. “Dun wowwy sissy. Daddehh cowme sab fwuffies suun… Suun… huu huuu!” He began to weep with her.
All but one refused to shrink back and stepped up to the caged door. A green unicorn blew a raspberry at him.
“Dummeh hoomin! Wet Gwassy outta dummeh sawwy bawks oou get wowstes owwies and poopsies!” His puffed up cheeks didn’t impress Finn in the slightest as he looked at his tag. “You got two days left GASSY, so please poop away if it makes you feel better”. He retorted knowing that wasn’t the smarties’ name. The little fluffy’s face contorted into slight rage. “NU AM NAMSIES! AM Gwassy!” He tapped angrily on the glass door, his version of the massive owwies he was going to give to him. Finn just stared back at him with no reaction before moving on, giving him no mind as he called out after him. “Ouu wiww be sowwy wheenn I gef ouu!” Right next to the sensitive fluffies were the foal pens. It was full of multicolored running fluffies, peeping and chirping. They ran around on their hay and discarded newspapers. They had a small litter box that was almost always filled and a wall where the milkbags were. They currently had three with room for one more. They were kept in thick cardboard boxes, with a small eye hole cut out so they could see. But otherwise they were imobile, being pillowed and their mouths bonded to feeding tubes and their assholes connected directly to the septic line. They lasted a good while thanks to the auto feeding, but with the pens being filled up more and more, it was hard to keep up with demand of foals constantly needing milk. And these pens were almost nearly filled with the most undesirable colors imaginable. Not to mention the abuse cases with scars lining their thin, underdeveloped fur. A lot of the time, these foals would actually fight over who would get the milk in the morning. There was not enough for everyone and the local bullies would even maim one another for the most food. These pens were split in the middle with mares on the right and stallions on the left. This was separated by a concrete wall; they originally had a steel chain fence. But after an incident years ago where they would try to give special huggies through the fence, this solution was quickly installed as fast as possible.
Directly across was the adult pens, most of these were fluffies dropped off in the chute from outside or owners that didn’t want them anymore. The not so popular colors and some abused fluffies that didn’t need isolation resided here. This pen was fairly full as was most of the shelter. About fifteen fluffies per pen for both the mare and stallions. As Finn walked by, they all jumped to the fence and begged.
“Pwease gib nyu hommie! Fwuffy wan wub and pway!”
“Dis pwaccee nu smeww guud…”
“Be nyu daddeh!!!”
They cried and whined much to Finn’s annoyance. He kicked the metal fence with his boot, hard enough that it made a loud clang noise. Scaring the fluffies back. “NUUU scawy noisies!! Wunn!!” They all ran in different directions, some even bumping into each other, crying over their hurties and begging for hugs in which some embraced one another. Some just pissed and shit themselves. “Finn! They were all just settled and the pen was cleaned.” A feminine voice broke through the cacophony of crying fluffies. She was short and wore the same uniform with jeans as Amelia did. She had long auburn hair that was tied in a messy bun. Her shirt was clearly a few sizes too big for her as she held a broom in her left hand. She bent down and shushed the fluffies in the pen, trying to calm them down. “Ah sorry. I couldn’t help it, Jess.” Finn apologized sincerely. “I just hate when they whine and get clingy”. “All fluffies are like that, unfortunately.” The multicolored fluffs calmed down and went about their day, which consisted mostly of sleeping, eating and crapping in their confines. “And I have a list of some unfortunate fluffs going to the back today.” She tapped a clipboard with a bunch of names. Finn inspected it closer. Lots of fluff are being sent to the incinerator today. “Oh wow, looks like a lot of work for you today. Would you like my help? They can be a bit rowdy when they realize where they are.” “Nah I got it”. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “The good ones I’ll use the nail gun, make it quick and they’ll go in first.” She smiled at him. “And the bad ones will get to watch before being tossed in”. Jess giggled a bit. Jess wasn’t an abuser by heart. But just like Finn, she liked to see the particular nasty ones get what’s coming to them. It’s one of the reasons why she was in charge of the shelter portion of the business. Finn didn’t have the heart to do this part over and over again and preferred to train his shop fluffs as much as he could. And she was perfect for it, showing compassion when she could, and mercilessness when it was needed. Finn was the one who taught her the nailgun technique. It was quiet and effective. Place the nailgun against the top head of the fluffy and squeeze the trigger. It would pierce the skull almost immediately. Little to no blood to clean up.Though some would be fighters and multiple nails were needed. Then you’d place the fluffy inside the oven and let it burn to ash. Bio-hazard crews come once a week to take the ashes that they dumped in specialized containers. The other not so nice fluffies will either get beaten to death or thrown in without a care in the world. As long as they ended up in contaminated boxes and trash cans, the trash pickup guys didn’t care. “Taffy could be joining that list soon,” Finn pointed to her list for the day. “No shit? Seriously? I’ve been waiting for you to say that for a while. The way Emerson and you talk about, seems like a nightmare” She started to scoop kibble into the bowls for the needy fluffies. They only got two scoops of food a day, much to the dismay of the shelter fluffs. And there was barely enough to go around due to cost cutting. “I need to think about it though, I want one more batch. Then if she pisses me off again. It’s the red door for her”. Finn scratched his chin. “She’s in the sorry box right now”. “Not enough for her. She’s a spoiled designer, Finn. Maybe best we move her along…” She knew there was no talking that out of him, the three strike rule was in place. “She has one more strike, but you and everyone else have been saying the same thing.” He scratched the back of his head. “Did you see this herd that Emerson was talking about?” “Ive heard rustling from the forrest, but no notification that anything entered the grounds.” She reported. “I’m waiting to see a return on this so-called “Sketti-scenter” of yours.” “It had GOOD reviews. Give it time…” Finn rebutted. They were always giving him shit on his ideas on how to get more product. He had a good feeling about this one as Jess laughed at how worked up he got. He breathed out his nose and moved on.
“Lemme know if you need anything, otherwise I’ll be over in the shop section”. He waved at her and left.
….
The rest of the day was fairly quiet, the morning played out like it always has, very slow then picking up near the middle, some boring ugly colored shelter drop offs and lots of paperwork. Some stupid prank call on the front where they asked if we had any pillow fluffs for sale, to which the shelter had two. The caller then replied with “Well then you better go catch it” before hanging up. That wasn’t unusual for the work they were in, a majority of people hated fluffies and unfortunately the people who worked with them. Finn had little to do and let Emerson and Amelia run the shop as he retreated into his office for some paperwork and bill paying. He also took the time to research his breeding methods, using whatever the internet suggested worked best. He had varying results and some inconsistency. He really wanted some of the more rare colors, and poofier tails which he was having trouble with. He once fell for a scam that was advertised as a supplement for stallions. This claimed it fertilized their sperm and could have a higher yeild for babies during the incubation. He used it once, it gave one of his best breeding stallion boner for 48 hours and insatiable lust. He would hump anything he could, including the unfortunate poop colored stallion in the pen with him. It was awful.
He also wanted the elusive alicorn as they can go for a ridiculously high price if bred correctly.
He did some research and once again looked at other shops and breeders selling them. Because if one got a rare one, they would most often than not keep them for breeding purposes. And if they were for sale, the price was always super high, almost not worth the fluffy itself. Finn also heard horror stories of people buying these fluffies and them being spoiled rotten. Unwilling to listen, smarty and bitch-mare syndrome aplenty. Not unlike how Taffy was behaving. He wondered how she was doing in her box and picked up his walkie talkie. “Emerson come in, do you copy”. There was a short pause. “Yeah, I copy”. A static voice came in response, some of the fluffies could be heard playing in the background. “How is Taffy doing in her box, over”. “One second boss…”. There was a long pause. “She is still refusing to clean her box even after your advice on the kibble, please advise”. He sounded almost worried over the line. Finn leaned back in his chair, thinking about his response before pressing the button once more. “Emerson, push her face into it. While doing so, tell her what she needs to do to be a “good fluffy” and don’t be afraid to go at it with some sorry sticking. She’s not to come out until it’s clean”. He laughed to himself and can imagine Taffy heard exactly what he said over the walkie. “Copy that, boss,” Emerson replied. Finn placed his walkie down and continued to look at prices for some designers up for sale. Some of them were cheap but came with an addendum. “Behavior problems… Lost both its front legs”. He began talking to himself. “pshhh, none of these are ideal for what im looking for. He found himself getting frustrated and closed the laptop. “Finn, come in… It’s Jess. I think I see a herd in the backyard… Looks fairly large, five fluffies, some had foals, over”. His ears perked up and he stood up, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack and pressing the walkie to his lips. “On my way, over”. It was a short walk out of his office and through the packed shelter, the fluffies now all wide awake and playing with one another and going about their days. “Whe am Wed Waisin? Wan pway huggie tag tuu-day!” A puke green unicorn was asking around.
Jess must have gotten through her list, and this fluff was looking for his friend, asking the other fluffies and getting no response. Perhaps they knew what happened.. Finn didn’t care and made his way through the clinic, waving as Joyce was stacking vials.
“We have a potential herd. I’m gonna go check it out, I’ll help with processing once I scope it out.” He passed by her just in time to see a thumbs up as he walked through the red door. There he saw Jess waiting for him by a window. “They look good?” There was some hope in his voice.
“Sort of… I think we got a smarty. Take a look”. She moved aside and let him peek out the window. There he saw the pineboard fence, with its flap opening that let fluffies in, but didn’t let them leave. It looks like they fell for his Skettie-scenter as two of them were bopping the bag that hung low.
Just as Jess said though, five fluffy adults in total. Two dull earthie pink ones. One of them had four babies on their back. A cream colored unicorn with a gray mane, fairly ugly colors as he ate the grass below him. A blue pegasus with a green mane was bopping the scent machine demanding it give it sketties. She had some of her older babies demanding they be fed by their good mummah, three in total just barely weaned by the looks of it. In front of all of them was a bright red unicorn with black hair, he held his head up high and could be seen barking orders.
“Wook at bestest wand smarty founddies fow hewd! Wots of gwassies an sketties hidin hewwe. Wook awound fow sketties.” His voice pitch irritated Finn and his knuckles nearly went white, no way he was going to keep another smarty. And this one looked like it has been running the herd for a while now, though fairly smaller than regular herds the forest or city would spit out.
“Yeah this looks good, I’ll try to reason with the smarty, but look at the foals on that pink one, gorgeous coloring. Could be a potential runaway, see the size of her tail? Poofed up and curled in slightly?” Finn was taking note of them as they were oblivious to being watched.
Jess reached into a bin and pulled out a large yellow bio-hazard trash bag. “Ready when you are”. Finn looked behind him at the tool wall. Various saws, bats, sorry sticks, and other construction tools were before him. He pondered a moment before reaching for an aluminum baseball bat. It had a leather grip and he gave a small practice swing. “Let’s do this.” The backdoor clicked open and made a screeching sound on its hinges. The herd immediately noticed and turned their heads at the noise, some even being a bit spooked as Finn and Jess stepped towards the scattered fluffies. “Hoomin! Wisten tuu smawty!” He demanded and started to puff his cheeks up, furrowing that little brow in defiance. “Dis am smawty an hewd wand nao! Ouu gib sketties fow besstest mummahs. Oww hewd gib sorry hoofsies and sowwy poopehs!” He finished and the other fluffies started to gather behind them. “Guu smawty, tewww hoomin!” The cream stallion shouted. “Hoomin hab biggessts sowwy stick…” The pink mother noticed Finn’s bat. Finn was surprised to hear that, this one knew what a sorry stick was? He held his weapon at bay and returned a smile down to all of them. “Hey there everyone.” He was cautious and warm with his response, it caught the fluffies off guard. “I wanna give you all a good home here, would you like that? You can come inside, I have other fluffies in there. Lots of water, and nummies!” Their demeanor softened a bit as some started to prance and coo in place. They seemed hungry, some were nearly skin and bones. All of them had low hanging fur, unkempt and and carrying all forms of dirt and shit that built up. Finn could smell it on them.
“Mistah be nyu daddeh? Gib nummies?” One of them asked, the others started singing the “babbeh wub mummah” song in response. Finn relaxed a bit before the smarty stomped his hoof.
“Nuu wisten tuu dummeh hoomin! Is twick. Ouu gib sketties an nummies to hewd and weave wand nao!!!” He stomped his hooves one more, puffing up those cheeks extra hard. He was red in color, but his face looked even more so as he strained to keep this up. His herd were listening, but Finn’s demeanor threw them off. “I promise to give you a home here”. He lowered his body and used their language which pricked up their ears a bit. “Newwsies homsies? Nu mowe dawk o waineeyy timesies?” One spoke, looking over at the smarty. “Suuu coowwd” “Ou gib yummiesst o numsies?” Another asked. This was good, nice and easy. Most of the fluffs were now waddling toward Finn very slowly… The smarty probably wasn’t a very good leader and it shows how he easily swayed them. They are usually loyal to the end. But this was going smooth, no need for anything erratic. “Stowp!!!” All the fluffies braked in their tracks. Looking back at the smarty that had commanded them. “Fownd wand fow hewd. Nu am twusties hoomin…” Everyone looked at the smarty, some stopped walking as they did. “I know it’s very cold out here. but I can promise a bunch of new friends, nummies for all your babies and a warm place to sleep. Aren’t you tired of sleeping in the grass?” Finn was buttering them up as they discussed amongst themselves. “Hewd wost wots o fwends to cowdies…” The pink mother whispered, she looked on her back at her peeping and crying babies. “Smawty, fownd dis wand”. The stallion pleaded as the red smarty stepped forward. “Hewd! Wisten tuu smawty. Dis wand am fow fwuffies!” He puffed his cheeks and dug his leather hooves in. Finn looked disappointed and stood up straight, surveying the herd. They all looked very tired.
“Is this true? Does the smarty friend speak for you?” Finn asked all the fluffies in the yard, pointing at the one who dared defied him. They all looked back and forth, cogs in their fuzzy brains turning. They couldn’t decide and stood still. Waiting for someone to make a move. “Raise you hoofsies if this red one speaks for you.” He made it simple.
Only the cream colored stallion raised their leather hoof super high. The others stayed silent.
“Ok, good to know… You stand nearly alone.” He said to the smarty, who squinted his eyes further. “Nu cawe. Ouu gib wand tuu smwa-”. **TINK!** “ScccreeeeeEEeEEE grrrkkk!!!” Finn had moved like lightning. He had struck the smarty right in the lower jaw with his bat, hard. Its body rolled along the grass for three rotations before coming to a rest on its belly. This was to the horror of the other fluffies as they watched their leader bleed from his lower mouth. He attempted to stand up but fell once more. His lower jaw now hung freely, still attached. It shot blood and half of his teeth were forcefully knocked out. “Oufff giii ii owwieeees. Neeeeee hhuu huuu..” He started to cry profusely from the pain and shock, not being able to form the words. The other fluffies looked at Finn with his huge sorry stick dripping crimson blood and instantly turned to run. “SMAWTY WIGHT, MUNSTAH HOOMIN! WUN”. The cream colored stallion cried out, inciting a panic as they scattered about. Jess wastes no time in gathering the good colors, corralling them into a corner and stuffing them into a cardboard box high enough that they couldn’t climb out. She left both defiant stallions to Finn. “Wet guu meanie wady! Ouu am munstah!” one of the mares cried as her babies and her were carried into the shelter. Jess tries her best to shush and calm them down. They were going right to Joyce for processing. Find didn’t wait, and moved closer. He walked calmly toward the other stallion, dragging the bat along the grass as the smarty cried and tried to put his jaw back into place with his hooves. Each attempt had it fall, over and over again. The cream colored one was banging on the fence to be let out. Finn’s shadow alerted him to his presence as he stood above him… “Pweaseee nu gib huwties! Am guud fwuffy!” He pleaded and cried. Finn looked unimpressed and scruffed him immediately. “Bad uppsies! Wet fwuffy dowwnsies!” He dropped the fluffy in front of the stunned red smarty, still trying to put its lower jaw back in place with its hooves, before letting it hang slack. Finn kept the stallion pinned in front of the red smarty so that he could see his work. “Ouchies!” The cream colored pony squeaked as he landed before seeing his red friend. “S-smawty fwend. Huu huuu! Hewp fwuffy fwom scawy mistah!!!” He pleaded. “Swaawwyy eeee- Hrrrrrkkk” The smarty was cut off as Finn stepped on his back slightly, not like he could talk with the bottom of his jaw swinging free like such. “You joined him, you cream colored shit bag. Look upon your friend. You claim to be a good fluffy but would you follow and join this filth?” Finn talked down at the cream colored pony who tried to cover his eyes with his hooves at the sight of the smarty. It pissed him off. He straddled the unicorn, pulling on both his front legs. “Oh hell no you’re not hiding from this”. Finn began to put more pressure. “Huuu huu, pweasse smawty, hewp fwuffy! Wowstes weggie owwies, no puww!! Sccrreee–REEEEEEEE!!!” **Sccrrkkkkkkkkschrrirppp!!** The stallion’s front legs were pulled from their sockets, not completely off but enough to dislocate where he couldn’t use them to cover his eyes or walk.
“WEGGIES HAB WOWSTEST OWWIES. Nu wowk nu mowe!!! HUuuu hUUU!” His cheeks had tears running down his face as Finn let go and stood upright, readying his bat once more. He tried to run with his back legs, but no traction would he find…
The smarty could only look at his handiwork and shed tears, he was frightened, needed huggies and wished his mummah would come save him.
“Ask him for help…” Finn commanded in heaving breaths to the cream colored one. He huffed in puffed, extremely worked up and taking out his frustration on these pieces of trash.
“Go on, ask him for help”. He heard no response for the both of them except begging to be hugged and making the awful cries as they shrieked. “It’s because he can’t.” Finn began as he walked and stood adjacent to the red one, lifting his bat. “This dumb piece of shit led you to your death. And you willingly followed him. HRAAGHH!!”
**TINK!** Finn screamed as he brought the bat down against the top of Smarty’s skull. It forced his lower chin into the grass as blood sprayed upwards like a geyser, the cream colored friend crying and screaming, raising in octave as the blood shot at him, unable to shield himself from the splatter that now coated his face. Smarty held on and tried to use his front legs to crawl away. “Stupid fucking fluffy!” **TINK!** He brought it down once more, eliciting more screams from the watcher as his red fluffy head started to indent. His eyes were full of tears as his friend pleaded once more. “Pwease nu mowe! Fwuffies awe fo huggies and wub!!! huuuHUUU!!! **TINK!** Another strike, the indent grew bigger. It looked like a rotten fruit that your fingers would slip through as blood pooled into a puddle. **TINK!** **PFFRFFFTTTT!** The smarty let loose its bowls at mach 1 speed, coating the fence in its filthy fecal matter before Finn raised his bat again. **TINK!** “NUUUU pwease stawp!! Pwease wet fwuffy go!” **TINK! TINK! TINK!** **SPLLLURTTTSHHHHHH** He brought the bat down multiple times. Each swing atop the head of the fluffy indenting and caving in its fragile skull until one of its eyes popped out, completely separating it from its socket. Crimson red blood was gushing from where the blunt instrument struck it. His entire body twitched as it struggled to keep itself upright before his forehead hit the grass, spilling some of its pink brains out and pooling the blood around him. The cream colored fluff having witnessed this was crying profusely. His eyes became red and puffy as his back legs tried to run, unable to do so as his front legs were mangled. “EEEE! Muntash fwuffy!” He cried and pissed himself after watching his smarty pal be beaten to death before his eyes. “Huuu huuu, why duu tis tuu fwuffy? Fwuffy owny wan hug and wub..” He sobbed and snot flowed out of his nose in a steady, slow stream. Finn stood back and wiped a brow of sweat forming. Squinting his eyes down at the fluffy with disdain and anger in his eyes. “I offered you a home and you chose this filthy shit rat as your guide. You could have lived with your herd and had a chance at a better life. But your scum. Worthless to anyone and everything. Look upon your future”. He got his weapon ready once more, raising it high as he could. “P-p-pwease mistah…” The cream colored one tried again to plead. **TINK!** **“**SCREEEEEE” **TINK!** **TINK!** His head was nearly caved in as Finn brought the weapon down over and over against his soft skull, splurts of blood shooting out into the cream colored fur. It stained and contrasted against the blinding dull white as he bludgeoned the fluffy as hard as he could. “P–pweaf Misftah.” The stallion grunted out with missing teeth as his brain was exposed. His back legs twitched and his cheeks were matted down from crying. His one eye popped out of its skull but still remained attached while the other was bloodshot from the trauma of the bat.
He huffed and puffed before coughing up more blood and demanding once more“ J-Jufff K-Ki-Kiiww Ff–ffwuffy”.
“Finn raised the bat above his head and growled out like an animal. “Oh, I intend too…” **TINK!** **TINK!** **TINK!** **TINK!** **SPLURTTT FSSHHHHH!** He brought it down as many times as he could, each whack of the bat causing an explosion of red liquid spurting and white skull matter flying over the lawn. Finn huffed and puffed with exhaustion, looking down at both fluffies facing one another, mangled and beaten to death before slicking back his hair to compose himself. Jess had done her job and gathered up the other running fluffs while he dealt with the two rebels. The green grass now pooled a deep crimson that contrasted the growing foliage. “I got them all. Mothers and their foals”. Jess appeared behind Finn, patting him on the back. “We can toss these dipshits into the furnace while it’s still hot.” She sounded assured and complete. “Good haul today. Joyce thinks we snagged a designer runaway, plus the foals aren’t too bad in shape. Good work as always.” Finn smiled at her and wiped his sweat away. “Phew, yeah. Not bad. How many foals did you intake?” He placed the now stained bat against the fence. “Seven in total. Four from the pink mare and three nearly adults and ready for kibble from the green one.” “Thier colors look good?” He asked, looking over the damage he needed to clean. “Some green ones, but not bad otherwise”. She responded. “All in decent shape too. Seems they were actually trying to take care of this herd.” He was satisfied with the results. Not only did his skettie trapper work, but it got some decent foal intake and fluffies in his shelter. This would be a great write off for him as any fluffy taken in from the wild could be reported to the state. Plus, he had some decent colors he would hope to train so that they can be resold for profit. Finn raised his hand up to Jess. “Good work!” He exclaimed as they smacked hands in a crisp high five. “Help me move these two into the furnac-” “Huuu huuu, stuppie dow… Wet fwuffy in… Nee nummies! huu huu”. A faint cry came from behind the fence. It was nearly muffled, and came out of nowhere that both of them searched around for the sudden noise. The crying intensified as they both approached the fluffy one way door. Finn unlatched the safety gate, pushed it open with a single hand slowly as a unicorn brown fluffy laid collapsed, crying its eyes out at the meanie door. It was small, very thin by the looks of it and covered in muck, dirt, and shit. He reeled from the smell, letting out an audible gasp as he covered his nose from its stench. A small trail of hoof like blood prints led from the forest right to where the fluffy laid. “Huuu huuu, nuw wike hewd weaving fwuffy. Huu huu!” Its voice was high pitched and raspy. Upon closer inspection, it looked thin, even under all that fluff, no doubt this was a result of “poopeh babbeh” syndrome. “Chirp, chirp chirp…” It resulted back to peeping like a foal would. “Jess, can you get me some gloves? I got a shit colored one over here.” Finn couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. Only two good colors and a potential new breeder to replace Taffy. And this was just the icing on the shit cake. A brown fluffy that would most likely get beaten and shit on to death by its own kind in the shelter. “Damn that thing reeks.” Jess handed over the gloves as he grunted in response. “Yeah it does… This one was probably left by the herd to die. Look. You can see it was forced to walk on its own instead of being on mummah’s back.” He scooped up the tired foal, letting it rest in both of his palms. It wasn’t very large, probably due to it being malnourished, he was surprised it was alive at all. “Can you take care of those dead ones? I’m gonna help Joyce with the intake. She probably already wants to jam pencils in her ears by now…” They both laughed, stirring the foal in his arms as he stepped over the handiwork he had left her. Jess started to get to work, scooping up the shit and remains of the two fluffies who were starting to get rigor mortis. Finn normally left a wake of blood and fear in them, but this was his best work yet. It was like a disfigured art piece and it was beautiful to her. Jess sped up the pace, wanting this to be quick, otherwise the flies would get to it. “Disgusting shit rats…”
END OF CHAPTER 1.
Thank you!