Richard liked fluffies, but he only liked good fluffies. He didn’t fancy himself an abuser, but the only thing that made a fluffy good was suffering. They had to learn how reality worked, at least as best as their moronic little brains could manage. So rather than cruel, he considered himself pragmatic, even caring. A fluffy that couldn’t learn simple things, like politeness and restraint, was doomed to far worse fates than he would inflict.
He’d recently purchased a new house with plenty of property. That meant he could afford the space to adopt a few more of the saccharine creatures. He wasn’t the sort to go to a FluffMart, or seek a proper breeder, though. He wanted to better the lives of the pets he adopted, even invasive, artificial species. All his cats were gutter goblins, his dog had been a mangy stray, and his two lovely fluffies had been rescues from the streets. The new fluffs wouldn’t be any different.
It may seem odd to some for a proper animal lover to keep fluffies, but the fact of the matter was that once they were properly trained they were easy to keep. They required far less enrichment than a dog or cat, and were cheaper to feed – they’d eat virtually anything edible, like pigs. The main issue was the shit they produced on an industrial scale, but he’d figured out a way to compost the otherwise-worthless waste into cheap fertilizer, which he then sold as a side business. So, in a sense, these fluffies would also be livestock.
It was the perfect time to prowl for alley fluffs. The end of summer, when everything was dry and dead and no shelter available to the average fluffy could provide adequate insulation, made for desperation. The only better time was the end of fall. By winter, only those specimens too far gone for him to bother with would remain; they’d be too sick, or would have resorted to survival methods that simply could not be tolerated in a pet.
He knew where they’d be. Hidden in discarded boxes behind shitty restaurants, alleys with moderate foot traffic on the street where they could try to beg, near the dumpsters in low-end housing where the residents couldn’t be bothered to deal with the pests. It didn’t take him long, driving in his hatchback, to find a likely spot.
In an unpaved alley behind a condemned motel, across the street from an Asian Fusion restaurant that got shut down for food safety violations every few months, he spied a pile of shit up against a fence. That was a good sign that the fluffies there knew how to make good poopies. He parked nearby and casually entered the alley.
Tucked between a pair of discarded A/C units was a large rubbermaid tub turned on its side. He couldn’t see into it yet, but out front, in the full heat of the sun, was a raggedy, panting blue unicorn with a teal mane and tail. He could hear peeping, a humming mummah, and the indistinct jabbering of foals.
Richard’s boot crunched on the gravel, and the unicorn’s head shot up. At first, the little retard looked the wrong way. Then its head swung around. There was briefly confusion, then fear, and then the unicorn puffed out its cheeks and clambered to its feet as quickly as it could. Richard stopped and raised an eyebrow in bemusement.
The unicorn ‘trotted’ over in a huff and stopped before him, glaring up at the man. “Dummeh hooman, gib smawty an speshuw fwend cowdie nummies!” the arrogant shit squeaked, stamping its front hoof several times as it made its demand.
There was a pause, during which the smarty lowered its head, clearly preparing to either give him sorry hoofsies, or to turn and shit on Richard’s boots. It didn’t get the chance. It opened its mouth to make whatever threat it intended to, and was immediately struck by a steel-toed boot right under its chin. The unicorn didn’t even get to scream as its own teeth severed its tongue, which flew off to the side from the force of a blue-collar man’s legs. The skull crunched wetly, the fluffy’s jaw shattering and punching up into a brain cavity far too full to house so little intelligence.
The corpse flew back several feet and struck the ground heavily. Ribs snapped like twigs, and the limp legs crumpled and twisted as the body rolled several more feet, finally coming to rest right in front of the bin. The humming stopped, there was a pause, and then a shrill “SCREEEEEEEE” echoed off the walls of the defunct building.
Richard continued walking over. He nudged the body to the side, to the wails of “Nuuuuhuhuhuuu, speshuw fwend…” He crouched down and peered into the tub. “M-Munstah!” went the mare inside.
Inside was a terrified purplish-red earthie mare with a pink mane. Four foals cowered in a corner behind her tail, hugging each other and crying insensately. He couldn’t get a decent look at what kind, but he didn’t really care about that, or the colors. What he did care about was the blue lump of fat on her back, several times larger than her other foals, peeping like a newborn.
Richard frowned, prompting the mare to cower. “Scawy!” she said. He shushed her gently and reached out to stroke her mane. She flinched, but he was exceptional at giving pets, and so she quickly cooed and leaned into his touch. “Nyu… Nyu daddeh? Wai huwt speshuw fwend?”
“Because he was a bad fluffy, and bad fluffies get hurties,” he explained gently. “Good fluffies get huggies and love, and lots of sketties and other nice nummies. Are you a good fluffy?”
The mare was afflicted with the same cravings, the same avarice, as the rest of her kind, which overrode all sense of self-preservation, and made her forget her fear.
“Sketties?! Yus, mummah am good fwuffy! Hab gud babbehs!” She was grinning like a moron now, but it made her adorable, and that was part of what he liked about fluffs. He smiled back.
“Good! But before daddy takes you home, I want to see your babies. May I?”
She nodded ecstatically. Pulling her tail close to her body to reveal the four foals, she said. “Babbehs! Nyu daddeh gonna tehk mummah an’ babbehs to nyu housie! Wif sketties! Sai hewwo!”
The foals were more nervous than their mother, which was understandable. They were small and even more defenceless than their mother and late father. With tears still in their eyes, they timidly crept forward. They were all old enough to talk, but their manes and tails hadn’t come in yet. Two were earthies, one each in the colors of their parents. Another was a reddish-brown unicorn, and the fourth a jet black pegasus.
The earthies stopped just short of leaving the shade and hugged each other, looking at him with big eyes. The unicorn sniffed at the air, and mumbled. “Smeww wike huwties…”
As was usual, the pegasus was the most brave. He came out into the light and stood in front of his mother, looking up hopefully yet cautiously at Richard. “Hewwo,” he said timidly. “Nyu daddeh wuv babbehs?”
Richarch chuckled and gave him a gently stroke with his finger, not ceasing the petting of the mother with his other hand. “Of course, champ. I’ll take good care of you.”
The foal giggled and scampered in a circle, then reared up and waved his nubs in the air in excitement. Then he ran over to his siblings. “Bwudda! Sissies! Nyu daddeh is dah bestest!”
Richard let them babble and giggle to each other, turning his attention back to the mare. He scritched her under the chin, subtly directing her to look at his face while he spoke. “So… Which one is the best?” It was an important test. He already had a mare that could feed the foals if she turned out to be a bitch.
The mother acquitted herself well, however. “Siwwy daddeh, aww babbehs am gud babbehs!”
“Good girl,” he crooned, ramping up the scritches for just a second. Then, he stopped. She looked a little hurt by that. Then, he pointed to the degenerate filth she’d clearly been pampering, the fat, obvious SBS foal on her back. “What about that one?”
“Dat am mummah’s speshuwest sensitib babbeh! He gud babbeh tu!” She rolled over, making the defective foal peep and chirp anxiously. She gently lifted him, grunting with the effort, and held him out. “He big enuf fo’ daddeh upsies, tu!”
Richard made a show of gently picking the foal up and looking it over. It was only a show, though. He didn’t care, there was nothing to learn. After a couple seconds, he set the fat fucker down in front of her. It immediately began huffing and puffing as it grotesquely wiggled towards her teats.
“That…” He said, pointing a finger at the living biological waste. “Is a bad fluffy.”
The mare was horrified. “Wh-wha? Nu, he gud babbeh!”
“But look how big he is! He should be a walkie, talkie baby, eating nummies instead of milkies. And you’ve clearly been giving him too much. He’s not even really a baby anymore!” Richard grabbed the pegasus, who was looking over in confusion at his mother’s exclamation. The pegasus cooed and hugged his thumb, and cheered as the man turned him this way and that in examination. “See, look here. Your good baby is too thin! You’ve been letting the bad baby steal milkies from your good ones!”
The horror on the mare’s face deepened, and she began to pant in anxiety. Her hooves tapped at the plastic floor. “Bu… Bu… Am gud mummah!”
“I’m going to need proof of that, otherwise I’ll only be able to take your good babies with me.”
“NUUUU! Nu take babbehs!” Shrieked the mare. “Babbehs need mummah!”
The foals were starting to cry again, and the ‘sensitibe’ one finally latched onto a teat and began to greedily nurse.
“See? He’s not even hungry, he’s just greedy. I’ll just ask your babies what they think.”
The mare was just sobbing in confusion, now. Richard set the black foal down next to his siblings and addressed them directly. “Has mummah been giving you enough milkies? Do you have tummy hurties?”
The foals all looked at each other in guilt and uncertainty. The unicorn was the one that ended up answering him. “Babbehs hab wots ob tummy huwties…” His face scrunched up and more tears welled in his eyes. “Mummah hab wots ob miwkies, bu’ big bwudda dwinkies dem aww!” He devolved into sobs as his siblings nodded in confirmation. The pegasus seemed angry about this, but the two earth fillies were simply sad, like the unicorn.
Richard sighed and turned back to the mare. “See? You could be a good mummah, but you haven’t been. So I’ll tell you what… You can make up for it.” He extended a finger and pointed at the greedy SBS foal. “Kill it. Give him forever sleepies. Prove that you can be a good fluffy and take care of your good foals, instead of the bad one.”
The shock stopped her crying. The mare’s mouth moved as if she was trying to talk, but nothing came out at first. “Bu-Bu-Bu… Mummah wub babbehs! Aww babbehs! Speshuw babbeh am onwy widdow babbeh!”
“And I appreciate that, but remember what I said: Bad. Fluffies. Get. Hurties. So give him hurties. Prove to me that you can be a good mummah for your good babies. Or I’ll take the good babies and you can stay here on your own. And I will give him forever sleepies for you.”
The mare was aghast. She slowly turned her eyes to her ‘speshuw’ babbeh, and Richard could see the unlubricated gears grinding in her head. Slowly, determination formed in her face. “Sowwy babbeh… Bu’ mummah an’ odda babbehs nee’ housie and sketties…”
She first tried to gently remove him from her teat. He wouldn’t budge. The little fucker even bit down to make it harder for her to remove him. Unfortunately for him, that surprised her. She slapped him aside with a cry of “Owies!”
The foal rolled over a few times and began to peep and cheep in the shrill manner of a distressed foal. She’d smacked him hard enough to bruise his cheek. Now, the mare was angry.
“Daddeh am wite! Yu am not gud babbeh… Yu… yu am a BAD BABBEH! Mummah gib wowstest huwties to wowstest babbeh ebah!” She rolled to her hooves, reared up, and brought one down on the foal’s midsection. Ribs broke, and the fat foal began to screech in the wet, garbled way that indicated a punctured lung.
“Unf! Unf! Unf! Dis fow steawin’ miwkies and fo’ gibin mummah huwties!” Each blow silenced the foal for a split second, but every time it began screaming again it was quieter and more distressed than the last. After a half-dozen hits, it was finally still and silent. She hit it a few more times for good measure.
The other foals were terrified, scampering to the opposite side of the tub and hugging each other tightly. But they didn’t cry. They knew what the score was. What their testimony had done. And if they were just smart enough, they’d know it was the right thing.
With the blue foal dead, the mother wound down from her huff, and began to cry. “Huu huu huuuu… Sowwy babbeh, but yu bad babbeh… nu wike…”
Richard consoled her with more pets. “That’s it. Good girl. You did a good thing. Now it’s time to go home. Get your babies together, and I’ll take you there.”
The mare was sullen, but pacified by the stroking. She nodded her head. “Otay, daddeh. Come hewe, babbehs, mummah gib yu upsies…”
She helped her foals climb into the fluff on her back, then slowly followed him back to his car.