Only one foal remained: The bestest babbeh. Pixie, the alicorn, who was identical to her mother.
The writer’s block was coming back. I was beginning to run out of ideas. I took to the internet, browsing dark web Fluffy abuse forums for inspiration. A user by the name of @Za had a very unique method that immediately caught my eye. This was gonna take a while, but it would be worth it for mummah’s most special babbeh.
I started by bringing Pixie to the safe-room.
“Pixie wub’ nyu mummah an’ safe-woom!”
“Close your eyes and try to think about your mummah, Pixie. This might hurt a bit.”
She shut her eyes tightly, her mind fully occupied with thoughts of her mother’s love. I snapped her horn off with ease and she shrieked.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WHY TAKE PIXIE POINTY HO-”
I held her muzzle shut.
“Now, now, Pixie. Keep quiet. Mummah doesn’t like a little crybaby. You and I are going to play a game to help you get stronger and teach you to fly. When you win the game, you can have your horn back. If your mummah asks where your horn went, tell her you accidentally broke it while trying to fly. If you tell her that I took it, I will give you forever sleepies. Understand?”
I let go of her muzzle.
“Huu-huu… Pixie undewstan’…”
I put her horn on a high shelf in the safe room. It was about 4 feet off the ground.
“Now, Pixie, this is how the game works. You have to use your little wingies to fly up to that shelf and get your horn back. You’ll have to try as hard as you can. It will take a lot of effort, but I know you can do it. You’re mummah’s bestest babbeh, after all!”
“Pixie gon’ get hown back! Pixie fwy to hown!”
“That’s right, Pixie, now, go get it!”
For about 30 minutes, I sat and watched as she tried in vain to flutter her useless wings hard enough to reach her horn. Just like her late sister before her, she couldn’t lift herself up even a centimeter.
“Huhuhu! Nu can fwy! Pixie am wowstest babbeh!”
“Shhhh… it’s okay, Pixie. You’re still the bestest babbeh. We can try again tomorrow. Maybe it’s your body that’s the issue? You eat so much. Maybe if you ate a bit less, you would become light enough to fly. I’ll let you think about that. Let’s go see your mummah.”
Back to the living room, where her mummah was sitting on her fat ass as usual watching FluffTV.
“Pixie! Mu- whewe bestest babbeh speshuw hown?”
“Pixie was trying to fly around in the safe-room. She landed on her horn and it fell off. I’ll have it reattached to her head once I get the proper tools.”
“Huhuhu! Pixie wan’ speshuw hown back nao!”
I placed the weeping Fluffy in her mother’s arms, the tender mummah cradling her bestest babbeh to stop her tears.
“Pixie, nu make see-pwace-wawas… dat gib mummah wowstest heawt-huwties. Pixie get hown back soon!”
“Huuhuuhuu… Pixie am bestest babbeh nu mo’…”
“Nuuuu! Pixie am stiww bestest babbeh! Mummah wub bestest babbeh Pixie!”
That night, I spied on the safe-room surveillance camera. My advice worked. Not once did Pixie touch her kibble bowl or take a sip of milkies from her mummah. She didn’t sleep at all that night. She spent 8 hours straight jumping up and down trying to get her horn back, making zero progress each time.
“Pixie? Am bwite time nao, time fo’ miwkies!”
“Nu! Nu wan’ miwkies!”
“Huh? B-b-bu’ why? Babbeh need miwkies to gwow big an’ stwong!”
“Nu wan’ be big an’ stwong! Wan’ be smaww!”
“Why?”
“Onwy way Pixie get hown back!”
“Huhuhu… Dashie hab heawt huwties… Pixie wan’ hown back…”
Everything was falling into place perfectly.
“Gon’… get… hown… back… soon… make… mummah… pwowd!”
A whole day went by of Pixie jumping up and down nonstop, trying to get her horn back as her mummah watched with sorrow. She got thinner and thinner, weaker and weaker. As her mummah sat in the living room, I walked into the safe-room where she was laying on the ground, barely clinging to life. Both of her bottom legs were broken, with rough, bleeding hoofsies. Her tiny ribcage was very visible at this point. She was clearly in the throes of death.
“Pixie, you won the game! You can have your horn back now!”
“W-…w-…w-weawwy…?”
“Here you go, Pixie. You earned it.”
I picked the horn up off the shelf and simply set it on the ground in front of her, then left the room and returned to my surveillance monitor to watch what happened next.
She stared at the disembodied horn with confusion and anguish, wondering how to reattach it. That’s when she spoke.
“N-… need nummies…”
She stared a bit more.
“Speshuw hown… am nummies…”
Oh my god. There is no fucking way.
“Get hown back… make mummah pwowd…”
I knew Fluffies were stupid, but even I didn’t expect this. As slowly as possible, the husk of a Fluffy used what was left of her strength to crawl to the horn and eat it, attempting to swallow without chewing. The starved creature made rasping and coughing sounds as it slowly and painfully choked to death on its own horn.
The bestest babbeh was dead.
“Dashie, I have good news! Pixie finally got her horn back, which gave her all her strength back too! She can fly! She flew so high, she went over the rainbow!”
“Pixie can fwy! Yay! Mummah so pwowd of bestest babbeh!”
Realization set in.
“Bu… bu’ am mummah no mowe…? No mowe babbehs?”
“No, no, you’re still a mummah. All of the babbehs you’ve had over the years are still your babbehs. You’re the bestest mummah ever.”
“Oh… Dashie am bestest mummah!”
If she only knew.
==To Be Continued==