"Goodbye, Yellow Babbeh" by TraumatizedPoopie

I started writing this in third-person at first, but then kept going into second-person so in the end I thought “Why fight it?” so here it is.

It’s a sequel to "The Mummahs and The Poopies" by TraumatizedPoopie

Edit: Name changed for the sake of anonymity.

You’re a pale yellow fluffy playing outside. You had learned to make gud poopies, but your mummah still despised you. It gave you heawt-huwties, but at least your siblings had started to accept you, even the bestest babbeh had grudgingly eased up on you.

Your teefies were coming in and you had begun supplementing your meagre miwkies with gwassy nummies. The hoomin mummah forced your mummah to give you miwkies, but after feeding your two sissies and your bwudda, the bestest babbeh, there wasn’t a lot left and often mummah would tear you away from her teat going ”'Ou hab nuff miwkies.” and you’d go to the fluffpile with a bad, empty feeling in the pit of your stomach.


One day you were out on the lawn playing hide-and-seek and your mummah walked up to your hidey pwace behind the house. You thought that was strange, why would your mummah give away your hidey pwace?

”Mummah, why ‘ou am a’ babbeh’s hidey pwace? Bwudda wiww see ‘ou and fin’ babbeh.”

She stared at you and sneered.

”Babbeh gu 'way!” she told you.

”Babbeh no unnastan, wha’ mummah wan’ babbeh du?”

”Mummah wan 'ou gu 'way nao!”

”Otay, babbeh gu in housie.”

”Nu!” said mummah to you.

You were confused because if mummah wanted you to go away then where else could you go? You had to ask.

”Bu’ if babbeh nu gu in housie den whewe babbeh gu?”

”Mummah nu cawe, 'ou weave wight nao ow git owwies.”

Then it dawned on you. She wanted you to go away from home, but she’d said it was dangerous.

”Babbeh nu wan’ guy tu da scawy pwace.” you complained.

Your mummah hit you with her hoof and your left heaw-pwace hurt so much.

”Dummeh babbeh gu 'way ow get fowebew-sweepies!” your mummah shouted at you.

You were horrified and scared; your own mother threatened to kill you?

When you hadn’t moved, she ran at you and you ran for your life, crying in shock and terror. You dove into the bushes on the edge of the property and lay there panting and crying.

Your mummah was batting at the bushes with her hoofsies.

”'Ou weave ow git wowstest smushies.”

”Babbeh wiww gu 'way, babbeh wiww gu ‘way, pwease no gib’ huwties, mummah.”

”Dummeh babbeh gu NAO!”

You flinch, but, sobbing, you started running away from the only home you’d ever known.


”Bestes’ fin’ sissies, bu’ nu can fin’ dummeh bwudda.”

”Really, Magnus? You’ve looked everywhere?” asked his hoomin mummah.

”Yus, mummah, Magnus wook ebwywhewe.”

Seeing the fluffy mummah coming around the corner, she called to her.

”Hey, Pomegranade, where is your yellow babbeh?”

Pomegranade made a motion that might have passed for a shrug and went ”Fwuffy nu kno’, nu hab seen babbeh.”

”Damn, where could he be?”


You were making your way through a small twee-pwace, looking around for munstas. Your see-pwaces were kind of sore after all the saddie-wawas you’d shed and you were starting to get hungry. You munched some gwassies and you felt a little better and then you found some pretty yellow flowers that looked so tasty.

You approached the flowers, looked around for dangers and then started nibbling at the flowers then munched away happily.

”Pwetty fwowews am yummy nummies.”

You then found a little hollow in a tree and tried to get some sleep. Sleeping was hard because your moufie and your throat felt weird, then your tummy started gurgling and a horrible spray exploded from your poopie-pwace. Your tummy was giving you owwies too.

”No, pwease stop, poopie-pwace. Tummy, why give owwies to fwuffy?”

It got worse and, by the time you were empty, the hollow stank.

”Pwetty fwowews am BAD nummies!” you sobbed to yourself, holding your front hoofsies to your tummy.

You didn’t want to stay there, but you had too much pain to leave so you eventually fell asleep by the pile of poopies.


In the morning you woke up, yawned and went ”No smeww pwetty.” and then you remembered and looked behind you.

”Pwetty fwowews am bad nummies.” you said to yourself, partly feeling sorry for yourself, but also to remember to avoid them in the future. You couldn’t stay in this hollow anymore either. You went outside and had gwassy nummies for breakfast and your tummy felt a bit better.

The early day was warm enough and you couldn’t stay where you were, but where to go? You picked a direction at random and started walking. The twee-pwace ended and there was a long grey rock place, you think your hoomin-mummah called it a road and it was what metal-munstas drove on. She had said it was dangerous and to be careful because metal-munstas could give fluffies smushy-huwties and make fluffies go fowebew-sweepies.

You looked and listened and then started across. Things were going well, but the rock was not nice to your poor hoofsies. There was a hum and you stopped to look for its source. You looked back and forth, but couldn’t see anything and it was getting louder. Suddenly a metal-munsta appeared, you made scawedy-poopies and covered your face with hoofsies as you lay shaking on the ground.

It roared as it went by and you cried ”Pwease, metal-munsta no num fwuffy! Babbeh no am nummies!”, but it went past and the passing of the air made you roll over and left you on your back.

”Why weggies no wowk! Pwease weggies, fwuffy nee’ wun 'way fwom munsta pwace!”

You tried and roll back over, but it was hard. You rocked back and forth and eventually you tipped and your weggies touched the grey rock and you could get your other weggies on the rock and you ran over into the grass on the other side. You continued to walk and you saw this really big thing, it was brown and white and like a giant fluffy, but it didn’t have one horn like a pointy-babbeh, it had two horns that went out in all directions. It was very big and a bit scawy, but maybe it was friendly?

You decided to be brave and went closer. Its head quickly turned to you.

”Nyu fwiend?” you asked it. ”Hu am ‘ou? Fwuffy am babbeh, but nu hab’ namesie.”

It started to walk towards you and you thought maybe it would give you huggies, but it went past you and knocked you over with its legs and your right front leggie hurt and so did your right side.

”Owwies, why gib’ huwties to fwuffy? Huu huu huu. Meanie tu-howny fwuffy.” you said as you stroked your poor right front leggie. You were sore, but it didn’t seem like anything was broken so you got back up and kept going.


You kept walking for most of the day, stopping to eat some gwassy nummies and drink from a stream. You spent the night under a bush with pointy-huwties on it so you thought you’d probably be safe under there. You woke up and it was warm. Maybe living in the wild wasn’t so bad? You missed your hoomin-mummah, your sissies, even missed your bwudda, the bestest babbeh, well a little, but you had nummies even though they didn’t taste pretty and the weather was nice.

You found a little hollow in a tree that seemed sheltered and, unlike your last find, was not filled with bad poopies so you settled down, a bit sad and lonely, but at least you were still alive.


Oh ok, now I see why the mother sent him away.

He was the dumb one who kept shitting on the floor.

The owner likely gave her an earful about her not teaching him, when in reality it was him playing until it was too late to get there.

Exile is a rather extreme solution, but hey, as long as the owner doesn’t find out.


Except he was no longer doing it now.

Anyway, it was not that he played too long, but that he had poopie-pwace issues and had a hard time keeping it in.


Then simply a random bitch mare?


I don’t know if it’s quite random, but he’s the bottom rung of the ladder to begin with, not quite a poopie babbeh, but not far away and then the bad poopies happened and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.


The straw that broke the fluffies back