The next day, the tormenter returned to the alley he had picked up his first victim from. It was located behind an Italian restaurant, and as such was a known location for feral fluffy pony ‘sightings’.
Sure enough, as the tormenter strolled into the alley, he found exactly what he was hoping to see: a fluffy pony mama with a handful of foals, a total of five, all snuggled together in an old cardboard box, buried within a ‘nest’ made from a filthy old blanket.
“Hello there.” He said brightly, kneeling in front of the box.
“Hewwo mistah!” The mama said, as naive as every other fluffy in the world. “Wook! Mummah hab babbehs!”
“Yes, I can see that. You have quite a lot of them… but which do you think are the best ones?” He asked. The mama immediately pointed to two foals at once, a pink one and a blue one.
“Bwue is bestest, but Pink is also bestest!” She babbled. The idiot thing hadn’t even noticed she had two ‘best’ babies.
“Oh, of course.” The tormenter said sagely. “Just look at them, they’re obviously the best ones!”
Mama beamed with pride at his words. The tormenter resisted the urge to laugh.
It was time for the next step.
“Oh no!” He said in mock concern. “Something’s wrong! Very very wrong!”
“Whuh?! Wha wong?!” The mare asked, fear in her wide eyes.
“Your babies… they’re VERY sick!” He said.
“Babbehs?! Sicky?! Nu-u-u!”
“I’m afraid so.” He said, nodding his head slowly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some medicine right here.”
And with that, he pulled a tube of superglue out of his pocket.
“Medysin?!” Mama babbled, completely drawn into his lie.
“Yes, but you need to listen to me carefully.” He said, looking mama straight in the eye. “In order for the medicine to work, once I give it to your two babies, you need to feed them immediately, understand?”
Mama furrowed her brow and nodded, forcing herself to concentrate.
“Otay! Mummah hewp!”
“Okay then, here we go…” He said, picking up the blue foal. He opened the tube of superglue and carefully squirted a small amount around it’s tiny peeping mouth. Then, before it had any time to close it’s mouth, he turned and carefully placed it against one of mama’s swollen teats, directly on the nipple. He heard a suckling sound and saw mama starting to coo and babble again, and knew that it had worked.
One down.
He repeated the process for the pink one, dripping the glue around it’s mouth and then placing it over mama’s teat once again, and within a minute both foals were securely attached.
“Okay mama.” He said, wiping his forehead in mock exhaustion. “That should be it. Just give them a nice meal of milk, and when you think they’ve had enough, you can feed the others.”
“Otay! Fank yoo mistah!” The mama babbled, before lapsing into a song that had neither any real words nor even a tune.
After about 3 minutes, it was time.
“Otay babbehs, dat enuff!” Mama said, but her babies refused to move, their mouths stayed fixed to her nipples. “Babbehs, wisten to mummah! Bwuddahs and sissies need miwkies too!”
Her babies still refused to move. Mama looked angry.
“Bad babbehs! Takin’ miwkies fow sibwings! Move!” She gave blue and pink a quick bop to the head each, but they still didn’t move. Tears formed in their tiny still-closed eyes, but they didn’t move. At least, they TRIED to, but couldn’t.
Not only were her blue and pink babies starting to cry, but so were her others, which were mewling and dragging themselves towards mama as fast as their tiny, frail, starving bodies could move.
Suddenly mama let out a yelp.
“OWIE! Bad babbehs! Babbehs huwtin’ mama wif bities!”
Of course, the blue and pink foals were too young to have teeth yet, that’s why they were still drinking their mama’s milk, but evidently they were pulling their superglued mouths, and inadvertantly yanking on her sensitive teats, as they tried to pull away from her, which the mama was mistaking for ‘biting’.
Mama gave each foal another swift bop to the head, resulting in more tears, and more hard yanks against her teats as they tried desperately to pull themselves free.
“OWIE! OWIE! HUWTIES! BAD BABBEHS STOP HUWTING MUMMAH!”
She gripped the blue foal with both of her stubby hooves and gave him a hard yank, but it only resulted in mama herself yelping in pain again.
“Dummeh! Babbehs! Wet! Go!” She hissed between pulls, but nothing happened. Abandoning her attempts to remove blue, she turned to pink, but had similar results.
By now, the rest of the foals were all wide awake and hungry, their tiny tummies rumbling loudly and their peeping mouths far from silent. Mama looked around at each one, fear in her eyes, seeing her children actively starving in front of her but being unable to help them at all.
All because of, in her eyes, two selfish babies that refused to stop drinking her milk.
“Stoopid babbehs! Bwuddahs and sissies gonna STAWVE!”
Blue and pink began only crying, desperately struggling to remove themselves from mama’s teats, but only succeeding in hurting mama more, which resulting in more bonks to their tiny heads.
“DUMMEH BABBEHS! GET OWF!” Mama wailed, tipping on her back and pulling her foals up with her, then rolling forwards onto her front and standing upright on her two legs, with her pink and blue foals still attached below her. She looked and saw they were still clinging on tight, and began trotting around, trying to shake them loose… while dragging her two babies across the hard concrete ground of the alley.
Their tormenter watched in awe. He hadn’t expected this to work NEARLY as well as it did.
Mama sprinted back and forth, dragging her crying, mutely screaming babies along behind her, their backs scraping against the rough concrete ground beneath them as they were forcibly pulled along behind mama, their aching mouths still superglued to her teats.
“STAHP BABBEHS! GEDOFF! OWE MUMMAH NU WUB YOO NU MOWE!” Mama yelled, but her babies ‘ignored’ her. They remained latched onto her teats no matter what she said or did.
Meanwhile, the remaining foals were growing quiet. They had been denied their meal, they were getting weaker, they only had so much longer to live…
And all the while, mama continued to run back and forth, her two ‘bestest’ foals bouncing along behind her as they were knocked, dragged and hauled around the alleyway.
Eventually the mama took off out of the alley, evidently determined to shake her babies one way or another, and potentially unaware she was actually leaving her foals behind.
The tormenter spared them a brief glance, and considered using some of his remaining superglue on them, but decided against it. They would barely live longer than a few minutes at this rate, and it would all be for naught if mama never found her way back to them…
And let’s be honest, what were the odds she even could?