“Esteemed members of the court, I would just like to remind you all that right there is a bad baby. That is not my personal opinion. It is a matter of fact.”
Jack would say this while standing in his living room, two fluffies positioned behind a cardboard podium he’d erected in the corner of the room. A yellow talky-babbeh colt along with a purple & green mare who was obviously his mummah. The two were crying, the mummah shaking her head.
“Babbeh nu mean tu make bad poopies! He am gud babbeh! Was jus’ pwayin’…” She pleaded the case for her child. This was a trial. The second such in a similar amount of days. There was a corkboard erected on the wall showing evidence: A photograph of bad poopies on the floor, a signed confession from the accused (the signature being a hoof print in ink), and a random graph he’d printed off from the Internet.
“The reason doesn’t matter. As the trial proved yesterday, justice is blind. Now since I only have one holding cell, I’m going to have to move our execution ahead.” Jack moved to another corner of the room where a kennel was placed. A purple filly was within, and he’d open the cage open with a clink of the slide-release lock. Her legs had been bound with makeshift shackles so she could only tip around precariously.
“Daddeh…Woyal nu wike dis gamesie.” She whined a bit as Jack pushed her out and got her walking.
“DEAD FLUFFY WALKING! WE GOT A DEAD FLUFF WALKING!” He called out to nobody as he led her down the hallway and to a room with a hastily written ‘Execution Chamber’ sign hanging over the doorframe. Inside was a kiddie pool filled with a few inches of water. The other two fluffies had followed them inside, and Jack scooped up Royal and placed her into the pool. Whining, Royal would look up pleadingly to her owner.
“Pwease! Nu wike wawa gamesie! Woyal sowwy!” Jack wasn’t hearing it though. She’d committed quite the offense.
“Royal stands accused, and sentenced to ‘forever sleepies’, for the crime of calling her owner a big dummy, a poopie, and yes…even farting to underscore her insolence.” Her mummah tried to tug on his pant leg.
“She am omwy wittew babbeh! She am Demi’s pwetty babbeh!” Demi pleaded with him but it was to no avail. Jack lifted up a toaster which had been plugged into the wall. Not any old toaster, either. It was one he’d gotten for $2 from Wish and definitely had even less safety features than other mass produced China crap. This thing wouldn’t be tripping the power when introduced to water.
“In this household we’re held accountable for our actions. Royal, do you have any last words?”
Royal trembled a bit. “Woyal wub daddeh…he nu am stinkeh poopie babbeh. Su sowwy ‘fo meanie wowds. Uhmm…wub mummah ‘n bwuddah, ‘an wub toysies…” Jack nodded a bit. These were about as good as last words as any fluffy could have. The man depressed the lever down on the toaster. Watched the coils glow red hot.
“May God have mercy on your soul.” He noted before chucking the toaster into the kiddie pool. The fluffy immediately jerked up. Her muscles tensed, mouth pulling back in what appeared to be a scowl. The filly vibrated, shook, smoke beginning to smolder out from her fur. She involuntarily lost control of her bowels, face spasming wildly.
“Babbeh! NUUU!” Her mummah said, and Jack stopped her from electrocuting herself as well by putting a foot in the way. Eventually the electrical current would cause the fur on top of her head to pop alive with a flame, the smell of burning hair filling the room. Finally, he kicked the plug out of the wall before the whole place caught fire. The foal tippled, fell over sideways into the water. Smoke hissed out from between her teeth.
“Anyways, your execution will be tomorrow, Butter.” He told the little yellow colt, grabbing the foal up and bringing him over to the kennel in the living room. Slamming the door closed, he would leave the colt to think about his fate while he went to go deal with the charred remains of Royal.
Later that night, Butter would be sadly trying to pull at the kennel bars with his teeth. His mummah would be over at the cage door, trying to comfort him.
“Dun wowwy babbeh…mummah am hewp gud babbeh.” She told him, doing her best to work at the lock. Butter shook with fear.
“Huwwy mummah! Munstah daddeh am gib fowebba sweepies!” He said with urgency, knowing that this wasn’t a game. It was just a simple slide-release lock but it would take all of Demi’s think-space to solve the problem. Working long into the night, she finally got the lock undone! Butter rushed out and hugged against his mummah.
“Babbeh! Yew ‘nee hide!” Demi told him, pushing with her nose to lead him off to a good hiding place. A pile of toys. Butter got on his belly and wormed into the toys, giving several ‘huuhuus’. His ass stuck out the pile, very plainly in sight.
“Su smawties, babbeh. Munstah daddeh nebba ‘fin yew naow.” Demi told him in a soothing voice. He would have to hide forever, maybe, but the thought of anything being longer than their five minute attention span was difficult to think about for a fluffy.
In the morning, Jack would walk out to the living room with a yawn. “Alright, I got the execution chamber set….WHAT IN THE? WE GOT A PRISONER ESCAPE!” He said, looking at the kennel door just laying wide open. Of course he saw Butter’s yellow ass just sticking out from the pile of toys. Well, yellow and brown since he’d shit himself during the night while hiding. Jack walked to the kitchen and got a pot and serving spoon out, banging the spoon against the pot in the mockery of rousing an alarm.
“PRISONER ON THE LOOSE! WE GOT A BAD BABY RUNNIN’ WILD!” He whooped and hollered while banging the pot, looking to Demi just sitting in the corner of the room and attempting to act innocent.
“Demi. Have you seen the escaped convict?” He asked. Her eyes wandered over to the toy pile. They were horrible liars.
“Mummah nu see babbeh…weww, babbeh wun away!” She said, nodding a bit. Jack narrowed his eyes at her and then moved closer to the toy pile. Demi shook her head rapidly.
“Nu nu nu! He nu am dewe!” She said with panic in her voice. He dropped the pot and spoon. Wavered a hand over the toy pile. Demi screeched.
“BABBEH NU AM IN TOYSIES!” Jack could hear small ‘huuhuus’ muffled from within the toys. He thrust a hand down and grabbed Butter up by his grimy tail, the colt swinging in the air as he dragged him up and held him out.
“Mummah! NUUUU! HEWP BABBEH! NU WAN FOWEBBA SWEEPIES!” He begged as Jack began to lead the fluffy out of the room, Demi scampering at his heel. Into the ‘execution chamber’ they would go, the kiddie pool from yesterday having been exchanged with a low-sitting table with leather straps attached to it. Looking to Demi, he set Butter down on his back on the table and began to work the straps over his limbs.
“You thought to escape justice? You really thought you would deny the world the satisfaction after you made a mockery of common decency with your ass?” Jack just gave a small ‘tut-tut’ as Demi attempted to help her baby up. Unlike with the kennel though, the leather straps would prove too much. She would glance up to Jack with tears in her eyes as he moved over to a bottle of drain cleaner and a syringe. The man would collect some of the brightly colored, thick liquid into the syringe and move back over to the foal.
“The ethics committee has been on my ass after the execution yesterday. Apparently it wasn’t very humane. Lethal injection, now, that’s humane. Alright, Butter. Do you have any last words?” Butter would be forced to stare up at the ceiling. His eyes nervously darted around.
“U-Uhmm…nu gib babbeh fowebbah sweepies cuz….babbeh nu wike?” He would attempt to outwit his way out of this one. As if running wasn’t bad enough. Jack just shrugged a bit, bent down, slid the needle into one of Butter’s legs. The fluffy gave a surprised squawk from it but the real huwties would come when he depressed the plunger on the syringe and feed the caustic chemicals straight into the little biotoy’s bloodstream. It would feel as if fire was being pumped directly into him.
“OWWIES! SU MANY HUWTIES!” The fluffy screeched as the cleaner entered him. Unlike the movies, drain cleaner didn’t just make people drop dead immediately. Instead it would be pushed through his blood stream and blister him from the inside all the way through. Kicking against his restraints, Butter’s eyes rolled up and he would screech, piss himself, violently roll and pitch with such force that it seemed as if he would tear himself free from the restraints. That wouldn’t happen though he would break his limbs. That was the least of the pain though. A foam boiled up from his mouth, throat gurgling, mouth snapping open and closed. Demi got close and hugged up against him.
“B-Babbeh, mummah gib huggies ‘fo feew beddah. Nu huwties. Mummah wub yew…” She tried to soothe her child as he was chemically cooked from the inside. Jack scooped her up and held her at arm’s length, watching the fluffy for awhile.
“Geeze. This is taking awhile.” He said, leaving the room and coming back every so often. The foal just refused to die, but lethal injection was the humane option so he didn’t feel too bad. About an hour after he had been injected, the fluffy began to vomit from pain. Gurgling, hacking, unable to clear his throat. He died on his back.
“Well, anyways. Demi. You assisted with the escape of a prisoner.” He had the absolutely wrecked body of Butter clutched in one hand, Demi’s mane in the other. Depositing her away in the ‘jail cell’ kennel.
“I have faith in our justice system. It’s never made a mistake before. Here’s your court appointed attorney.” Jack juggled the corpse of Butter and reached over to the toy pile, taking out a stuffy-toy with a pullcord. He yanked the cord and listened to it chirp out ‘Every fluffy is for love!’.
Jack nodded. “A compelling argument. Well now, Demi, your trial will be held later tonight.”
Demi sunk down against the kennel and sadly looked out from behind the bars. She did not have faith in the justice system anymore and gave a small ‘huu’.
