@BFM101 suggestion in the two sentence story idea thread. This story includes silly subspecies. If you don’t like that, don’t read it
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Polly Pocket was the prettiest mare the world had ever seen! Or would be in theory. An alicorn with beautiful pink fur and a posh mane and tail that didn’t seem to pick up the grime of the alleyway she slept in these days. Her wingies and horn were a dusty silver color that picked up light and seemed to sparkle like powdery snow. Even the way she walked was fancy: Her hooves pranced and had a certain giddy spring compared to the normal clumsy gait of her brethren.
One might be curious to know why she was currently nosing about empty Chinese food containers and spent most days curled up on a panel of cardboard if she was such a magnificent specimen. Well, Polly once had a housie. A little mummah, a big mummah and daddeh too. Lots of treats, skettis, stuffy-fwends to play with. She’d started out normal but then time passed and lumps began growing on her body.
On her neck, at the base of her belly, at her spine, near her rump. Her owners had thought it to be some kind of cancer, tumors which were growing rapidly. Had begun the difficult process of figuring out how they’d be discussing death with their daughter…or maybe dumping Polly in a ditch and saying she’d run away.
This wasn’t cancer though. In fact, Polly’s appetite grew in leaps and bounds. She had more energy than ever before and had been dancing around her saferoom like nothing was wrong. Over time it became apparent that these ‘tumors’ were something quite unexpected. Features began to appear on them. Tiny nostrils, pockmarks that formed into eyesockets. Once they’d been flesh colored and lacking fur but grew their own. Yellow at her neck, brown on her tummy, blue at her spine, red near her rump. Against all conventional logic it seemed as if chirpies had sprouted out of her body. Only the front halves of bodies, two pairs of useless and spindly weggies for each one that bobbled around each time she made a step. At first their eyes were closed but they opened eventually, taking in the world around them.
Big mummah and daddeh called her a ‘fweak’. Widdew mummah had cried so much and threw stuff at her. It really hurt her feelings, because she had always tried being a good fluffy. Daddeh chased her out the backdoor and kicked her so hard in the poopie-pwace she’d been lifted off the ground and went sailing over the fence. Luckily she’d landed in a neighbor’s daffodil patch but she knew better than to go back there again. No matter how sad it made her.
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Peep?
That was her tummy bwuddah. Or was it sissy? She didn’t really know what gender they were but did know, somehow, that they were her bwuddahs an’ sissies. The thought had crossed her tiny mind at one point that maybe these were her own babbehs yet had dismissed it.
Polly had a good understanding of what their various cheeps or peeps meant. Even though they were older than chirpies they couldn’t make tawkies like she could, but seemed to understand things well. Stopping in place, she took a few shuffling steps back to see what the one at her tummy had been interested in. It was half a stale hamburger bun she’d carelessly walked right over!
“Dank yew tummy bwuddah! Powwy nu see nummies!” She spoke at the direction of her tummy gratefully. Her bwuddahs and sissies could see all sorts of things that she either couldn’t given the direction she was looking or maybe give an alert to something overlooked. Four extra pairs of eyes sure was handy for a feral.
Snarfing down the hamburger bun, she felt kind of sad that she couldn’t give them nummies. Oh sure she’d tried lots of times before. They absolutely refused to put anything in their mouth! Also they didn’t make poopies, gud or otherwise. Which made sense because they didn’t even have poopie pwaces.
Hearing a commotion from up the alley, Polly got excited. More fluffies! Maybe they’d want to play and have fun. Straightening up her tail and listening as her siblings happily peeped at the thought of meeting new fwuffs, she ventured up the way to meet whoever was down there.
It was a mare and her spechaw fwend, happily playing with their widdew babbehs. Yay! Polly loved babbehs! Maybe they would let her play too.
“Hewwwooo! Am Powwy fwuff an’ bwuddah an’ sissies tu!” She announced in the most cheerful voice she could. Looking up from her chirpies, the orange mummah mare lifted up a hoof in greeting.
“Hewwo! Yew…EEEEEEEK!” Bowels evacuating at the mere sight of Polly, mummah mare began piling her chirpies up on the back of her spechaw fwend.
Looking over his shoulder at Polly and following suit in shitting his entire ass out, the stallion tried to get his spechaw fwend to hurry up. “Huwwy, it am munstah! MUNSTAH! SCREEEE!” Once all the chirpies had been loaded up on top of his back, they went scurrying out of the alley.
Well. That’s what always happened. Other fluffies thought she was a munstah even though she tried to act super nice. Carefully positioning herself on the ground so as to not hurt any of her siblings, the mare curled up and began to softly cry. Why didn’t anyone love her? She had biggest heawt happies to share with everyfluff and they didn’t even care. A chorus of sad peeps rose up from around her. The chirpy-like growths wanted to be loved too. It wasn’t their fault they were like this.
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A few days later and Polly was, can you guess it, wandering down another stretch of alleyway! There was nothing else to really do and it’s how they all survived. On this particular day though, a weird thing was to occur.
Out in the middle of the greasy paving stones laid a plate of skettis. Still steaming! Polly loved skettis a whole bunch.
“Whachu fink, bwuddahs and sissies?” She queried her siblings, but they didn’t see anything wrong with this. If there was danger, they would let loose a furious stream of peeps and chirps to alert her. Right now they give hopeful sounds and didn’t recognize that anything was stranger. Well if they didn’t see anything scawy about it, that was good with her. Happily trotting over to the plate of delicious skettis, she dove her face down and sucked goopy noodles into her mouth.
Just then, however, the brilliant trap would reveal itself! This plate of skettis was nothing more than the bait laid out to lure her in. There was a plastic laundry basket propped up with a stick right above the plate, and a string attached to the stick got yanked back to cause the basket to rattle down over her.
“EEEE! Nuuuu! Hewp! Scawy!” Wailed Polly as her siblings gave terrified cheerps. This was so scawy that she couldn’t make her body move around. Instead she sank down beside the plate of skettis and shook in fear, trying her best not to make peepees on the spot.
Footsteps approached her position and she looked through the slots on the laundry basket to whoever it was. A big daddeh in nice looking clothes! Hopeful wags of her tail ensued.
“Hewwo big daddeh. Am Powwy Pocket an’ dese am bwuddahs an’ sissies. Teehee…wub yew? Nyu housie ‘fo gud fwuffies?” Though she couldn’t see his face, she was sure that his expression must be one of happiness to find such a well behaved group of fluffies. Surely he’d bring her home.
“A house?” Crouching down, the big daddeh lifted up the laundry basket to look down to her. This was the exact alicorn he’d been waiting to trap. Looking at his face, Polly didn’t know what to think. It seemed like he was trying to be nice but there was something else behind it. A meanie feeling.
“Y-Yis.” A bashful waggle of her tail and a flick of her ear. For now, her extra passengers were quiet. Those who were able to look at the daddeh did so with wide eyes.
This man knew her value. No doubt a very expensive purchase at one point. Fantastic colors, a sweet temperament unlike many alicorns who’d been spoiled and turned rotten. Those ‘growths’ though. Eugh. He was capable of better reasoning than the fluffies she constantly scared off but even he was disgusted. Completely unwilling to touch her without protection, as if her ugliness were a disease that could jump off and transfer to him. Rummaging around his pocket, he’d retrieve a pair of medical gloves and fit them over his hands.
"Sure, I’ll take you home, give you all the warmth and toys and love you want.“ Big daddeh began with a giant smile that conveyed the idea this was the most generous offer in the world. Polly’s heart pounded with excitement. This was it. A nyu housie! Nyu daddeh wubbed her!
“All it will cost you is your special-lumps." This stranger ended, indicating her sibling on it’s perch at her spine. It gave a helpless peep, and her Polly shook her head.
No…no! That was her very special bwuddah. Or sissy. She loved them and they were good fluffies. Giving a quick shake of her head, Polly whimpered.
“Dese am spechaw bwuddahs an’ sissies! Nu am wumps! Dey am weaw fwuffies ‘an Powwy wub!” Her protests caused the man to scowl. This ugly piece of shit was really trying to turn down a home and medical treatment to get rid of the parasites attached to her body? Ever since he’d heard rumors about her, he’d thought it a chance to get a great looking alicorn to breed out and make some easy money. Now he was being offended by it. Oh she was going to get those things removed, and he’d beat her until she felt sorry for ever attempting to tell him ‘no’.
Snatching a hand out toward her, he snarled: ‘Come here you little cunt!’
Just then, her body sprang into action. Before she’d been frozen with fear, then captivated with wonder by the prospect of receiving a new home. Now her weggies sprang out to lead her out of the laundry basket with a leaping bound, triumphant peeps surrounding out from all around her. With her siblings cheering, she could do anything! Hoofsies clicking across the alleyway, she didn’t turn back to look if the meanie daddeh was chasing her. A brown leather loafer went sailing past her and smacked uselessly into a wall but she was already out and bound for greener pastures where meanie daddehs wouldn’t try hurting her.
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Life afterwards continued on as it always had since she’d been without a home. Digging through refuse to find nummies or something to serve as a suitable shelter, trying to get other fluffies to pay her some mind, trying her best to keep happy.
It was very difficult though. No matter how hard she tried, she could feel the saddies closing in on her heart. Some days she just laid down in a box and stared at the cardboard walls around her, completely unable to even will herself to move or even cry. The only thing that got her motivated to get up again were the hungry peeps of her siblings. Even though they didn’t eat nummies, they needed her to.
One day while in one of these depressive moods, she heard movement outside of her cardboard box. At first she thought it was a bawky-munstah…sure, other fluffies screamed in terror and fled from her but the bawky-munstahs didn’t. They were incredibly mean, chasing and biting at her until she got away. Luckily, terrified peeps usually tipped her off when one was creeping behind her and she had a head-start in most chases.
Instead of bawky-munstah weggies at her eyeline, she found herself staring at fwuffy weggies. At least she thought they were fwuffy weggies. They lacked fluff but instead looked as if someone had scribbled on them with crayons or something. it was very confusing but it caused her to peek her head out curiously and let her sadness be forgotten for the moment.
In front of her was something that her mind couldn’t compute with. A fluffy but not a fluffy. This was a stallion with no fluff, his entire body having been shaved and crudely tattooed to look like a clown suit. Red, blues, whites. His neck had ink to mimic a poofy white collar, face bearing diamond and teardrop symbols. On top of his head, instead of a mane, was an incredibly full rainbow clown wig which had been surgically grated to his scalp. Marks where infection had ravaged his scalp were evident which gave it a puffy and withered look after the surrounding area had healed. Back behind him, he lacked a proper tail but had a large clump of rainbow hair that didn’t seem able to waggle. On his face was a large red bulbous thing that Polly didn’t even recognize as a nose.
“M-Munstah…?” She trembled, brothers and sisters giving terrified unknowing peeps. They didn’t know what this was and could only sink down in despair that finally some unknown thing had slithered in to make them nummies.
Getting on his hind-legs and showing off his fluffless tummy, the stallion performed a happy li’l jig and giggled. “Nu am munstah! Am Spwitz da cwown!” Lifting a hoof, he pressed it against his ‘nose’ and produced several loud squeaks. It took Polly by surprise but…that was a super funny sound! Giggling, she leaned out the box even more.
“Oh noes! Spwitz am fawwin!” Waggling his front weggies around while still balanced on his back ones, he did a theatrical spin around before wheeling away and smacking into a metal trashcan. Clattering over with a loud sound, Polly gasped and rushed over to the trashcan.
Spritz was a master of pratfalls though! Poking up out of the trash which had spilled out of the can with a chip bag poking out of his afro, he’d waggle his front hooves around and give an exaggerated goofy expression which caused Polly and her siblings to make giddy sounds of merriment.
“S-Spwitz…su…s-siwwy…” Came an unfamiliar voice. Polly looked around for a moment before the brick wall behind Spritz seemed to come alive! Stepping forward and becoming obvious, Polly couldn’t believe her eyes. It was a fluffy! A mare! Her fluff had taken on the exact colors and patterns of the wall she’d been standing up against. Bashfully giving a shake of her fluff, the newcomer shook around. The fluff which had taken on colors and patterns of the brickwork suddenly changed. It was now a random collection of colors of all sorts. Polly had never seen anything like it.
What was happening? Was she dreaming? Polly regarded the two strange fluffies with a wondrous expression before terrified peeps erupted from her body. There was something behind her! Turning to see what it was, she gave a screech of fear.
This was a munstah. A REAL MUNSTAH! Polly couldn’t tell if it was a mummah or daddeh though it was shaped like one. Tall with skin tattooed in sleek designs. Every inch of this person was tattooed, and their eyes were yellow and had slits. Bad peepees pooled out on the ground around Polly as the munstah opened it’s mouth. It had FANGS! A FORKED TONGUE!
Her reaction wasn’t out of the ordinary. Tonya often got rather extreme reactions out of humans, you know, but one didn’t get heavy into the body modification scene without cracking a few eggs. Taking up a bag at her side, she rummaged around for a moment before locating a steamed bun she’d just gotten from a stall down the street. Even though she was shaking, Polly felt enticed by the smell of simmered pork, scallions, garlic, and soy. Looking down to the bun as it was offered to her, she accepted it and began nibbling the thing.
“I’m Tonya. You’ve met Spritz the clown, what about Myrtle? She’s a chameleon fluff and they’re a bit shy…you don’t see too many of them anymore, either.” Myrtle, that’s what her name was. Fluff changing colors even as she stood there perfectly still. This mare seemed to be an alien in her own body, eyes constantly shifting around and giving scared peeps as if something were looming right around the corner. Not a surprise: Chameleon fluffs were an abject failure from Hasbio. Sure they were able to blend their fluff in with surroundings yet they were prone to anxiety and paranoia. Afraid they were constantly being watched. The project was shitcanned but you could find a few still hanging around.
Even though this lady (the voice let her know it was a mummah) seemed like a munstah, Polly felt she wasn’t. Speaking to her. Looking at her like she was a real fluffy. That felt so good. So nice. After so long of having fluffies run screaming or humans wanting to hurt her, it felt so good to just be talked to.
“Fwuffy am Powwy Pocket. An…dese am bwuddahs an’ sissies.” Having calmed down when their sissy did, the chirpy-like entities gave cheerful peeps at being acknowledged.
Reaching out, Tonya ran a hand against one of Polly’s siblings. The one on her neck. It was the first time that anyone or anything but Polly had acknowledged them or showed them anything resembling kindness. Giving a cooing noise, the vestigial creature suckled on the finger for a moment to show how much it appreciated the pet.
“Nu hate bwuddahs an’ sissies? Wub?” Polly asked with wide-eyes. It had to be a dream. Nothing could be so perfect as this.
Smiling down to the mare, Tonya jerked a thumb up to indicate that yeah, she did love them. “You got it, kiddo! I love all you special fluffies. And it’s my goal in life to let everyone else appreciate you guys, too.”
Spritz giggled and nodded. “Yis! Mummah wub fweaky fwuffs! An’ fweaky fwuffs wub mummah!”
Pinning her ears down, that word came rushing up at her. That’s what daddeh had called her. A freak. Being a freak was bad. It made everyone mad and sad! “Nu am fweak! Nu wan be! Nuuhuu!” Crying, she got gently dragged up by Tonya into a warm embrace.
Hiccuping with distress as a smooch was placed on top of her head, Polly began calming down as a hand was rubbed down her back. Two fingers scritching appreciatively at her spine bwuddah.
“Being a freak is awesome, Polly. We get to go all over the place and do all sorts of fun things. And we’re all one big family!” Looking up to the big mummah, trying to get used to her forked tongue and vicious looking fangs, she blinked a bit.
“Weawwy? Powwy am hab famiwy? Nu am scawed ob Powwy?” The question was hopeful and earned a hearty nod from Tonya.
“You got it, honey. The best family you could hope for…or even better.”
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A few months later and Polly had gotten used to her new life easily. Her new family was bigger than her old one, and far more fun!
They all lived together and traveled to new places in da BIGGES’ vroomy ever that mummah called an ‘Arr-Vee’. The Arr-Vee was the bestest because she got to look out the windows and see everything pass by. Most fluffies didn’t get to see this many places except on teebee, and she considered herself very fortunate to do so.
Also, her family did love her as much as mummah said they would. Always on a pile of cushions was an incredibly feeble looking grey mare that mummah said was ‘twenty years old’ and the oldest fluffy still alive. Her name was Esmé and didn’t do too much, though she still really loved huggies and the mushy nummies that mummah fed her. Polly didn’t know how many twenty years was but did figure it was a lot of fowebbas considering the way that Tonya talked about her.
Then there was Gill-Man. He was a stallion whose mummah had been a sea fluffy and whose daddeh was a regular fluffy, that’s what Tonya said anyways. Usually babbehs like that went fowebbah sweepies but he was doing quite well for himself. Being born of such a topsy-turvy union, he had the body of a regular fluffy and tail more suited for propelling himself through water. Gills were also on the side of his neck which allowed him to breathe water, but he could breathe just plain air too. His fluff was sleek copper colored, and though friendly he’d spend most of his time relaxing in an aquarium.
Polly’s bestest friend, though?
“DYNAMYE DAN!” She squealed happily, prancing around a fluffy on the ground of the RV. He was trying to watch FluffTV but Polly was blocking out the view.
Dynamite Dan. AKA the Unkillable Poopie. This stallion was once a military experiment gone awry and could show it. His oily brown fur glistened with greasy droplets of an acrid smelling substance and with enough friction, he could cause himself to explode. Perhaps a more stable form of nitroglycerin, who knew. The mystery surrounding him was great but even greater were his feats as a daredevil. Dynamite Dan launched himself out of cannons, could pop off from the ground with great crack and sail through the air to land on a target, and could set himself on fire. It hurt. It hurt a lot. He’d had all of his limbs once upon a time but had blown each of them off in seperate incidents. Would he do it all over again if he could? Yes he would because he’s Dynamite Dan.
Polly found him to be quite the handsome stallion. Even if he didn’t have weggies and half of his face had buwnies. The goggles he wore over the top of his head were cool and so was the fiery red cape draped over his back with two golden D’s emblazoned over it
“Pwease mobe Powwy. Dan am watchin’ teebee.” When he wasn’t putting on a performance, he was quite chill. Out on stage he was alive and full of energy. Instead of moving, Polly wrapped Dan up in a huggy and squeezed tight. Each of her siblings happily peeped because they loved Dan too.
“WUB DAN SU MUCHSIES!” She squealed, rubbing against him frantically. There was a spark from the friction and a crack of force as she set off the oily droplets which had collect on his fur. Propelled through the air and landing on her hooves down on the sofa, slightly smoldering from the small explosion, she ran right back to hug against him.
Dynamite Dan didn’t know why she liked him so much and kept causing him to explode. The motivations of mares was outside his purview…his experience was mostly centered on causing himself to blow up.
Tonya yelled from the RV’s cab: “Alright, you two! No huggies inside the RV! Wait until we stop!” Yeah, she knew exactly who was doing it. Polly poked her head into the cab, a strand of fluff smoldering from on top her head. Not taking her eyes off the road, Tonya still looked up to the rearview mirror and saw the careless smile of not only Polly but each of her siblings.
They were all happy with their new family.
