Greenie - by Spaghetti Dave

Greenie

Last seen in we know not what we do in part 14.

His name was Greenie. His mother was not the smartest mare in the herd, he knew her as his favorite mummah, the herd called her Blueberry, well, it was more like Bwuebewwy, and more often, Dummeh Mummah, or just Dummeh. She loved all your brothers and sisters equally. And her hugs were the best. Her fluffy was red, and so soft that Greenie loved to just curl up in it.

His father was the alpha, the herd leader, the smarty, Thor. Well, they really called him Twoww, Tow… Actually, no other fluffy referred to him by his Human name, they called him Smarty. But they didn’t call him Smarty because he was pushy or mean. Thor didn’t take the best Nummies. Thor didn’t take every mare as his own. Thor was smart, and he cared for his herd. His fluff a dark green, green the leafies, and his mane as brown as the trees.

Thor, unlike most of the herd, had a human owner. A very smart owner. She taught him how to count. She taught him how to track animals, and even nummies. She taught him how to hide, and how to trick the other animals so he wouldn’t become the nummies.

Greenie, named by Blueberry, would curl up with his brothers and sisters, not just those from his mummah, but all the foals in their herd, and they would listen to Thor tell tales of his human mummah. She would take Thor “huntin’ fow quackies.” He would hide by her, and wait. “Den hoomin mummah howd a boom stick and den…” He looked around at each and every foal, “BOOM!” His legs spread out, giggles and gasps from the audience of foals. “Hoomin mummah teww Thow tu git da quackies. Thow wun and wun an fin da quackies! Den Thow nom on quackies and dwag dem back!” He mimed the action, pretending to bite at a foal. “Hoomin mummah gib Thow huggies an nummies.” The foals cheered.

“Buh, hoomin mummah hab wowstest heawt owwies and wen foweba sweepies.” A collective awww echoed from the foals. “Den Thow wan away an sabed Bwuebewwy. Den sabed yu mummah,” pointing at a foal, “an yu daddeh,” pointing at another. “Nao, dawkie time an sweepies.” The foals crowded together with the adults and making the biggest fluff pile Greenie had ever seen.

As Greenie and the other foals grew, Thor taught them to count to five. He taught them how to hide. He taught them how to look for shelter and how to find a good place for a nest. How to avoid the munstas like barkie munstas, hoomin munstas, and squakie munstas. He showed them which plants were good nummies, which plants were okay nummies, and which plants were bad nummies.

He taught the slowly growing herd how to make a nest. They built a small cave system, including a room for cowd times nummies. That having babbehs in cowd times was bad, but having bestest babbehs is even worse. At one point a mare had given birth and picked a bestest babbeh and a poopy babbeh. Thor taught them what it meant to be a poopy babbeh. “Hoomins nu wike bwown babbehs, dey tink dey poopies. Dey wike pwetty bestest babbehs. Dis hewd nu hab hoomins. Poopy babbehs awe bestest babbehs. Bwown babbehs wook wike twees. Dey gud wit huntin’ and ‘scapin’ munstahs.” He picked up the brown foal and gave it licky cleanies. “Nu hab bestest babbeh, buh dis babbeh vewy vewy gud.”

And most importantly, he taught them what he knew of hoomins. The most important lesson, be suspicious. “Hoomins awe da bestest mummahs and daddehs, buh dey awe da wowstest mummah an daddeh. A hoomin wif fwuffys is sus. Dey hab dummeh fwuffies, weave. Dey hab fwuffies goin’ huuhuu, weave. An mos’ impowtan’wy, dey offa sketties, wun. Wun an hidies.”

Greenie was a earthie, like his father Thor. But his fluff wasn’t as good as blending in, a bright green coat and pink mane. Thor taught him to roll in dirt to darken his coat. His favorite friend growing up was River, she had a bright blue coat and a black mane, an earthie as well. Both Greenie and River were inseparable. Usually found close behind was Greenie’s brother, Mario, a red and blue pegasus.

This mid summer day, searching for nummies, Greenie and River were joined with Mario.

“Wets gu dis way!” Mario laughed as he ran ahead. Both Greenie and River hesitated yet trailed behind. The woods thinned, an area they knew was close to hoomins. Mario yelled back to Greenie and River, “Mawio smeww Nummies! Hoomin Nummies!”

“Dat smeww weawwy gud, Gweenie!” Even River became excited. Greenie tried to not be excited, but the smell made his mouth water.

They made their way closer to the black rock. The black rock where big metal monsters lived, the metal monsters that humans controlled. The smell was like nothing they had smelt before, but they knew they loved it. They needed it.


Josh hated his job. He was a handy man by trade, but half of his calls were for fluffy removal. He only took those jobs when work was slow. But, he had some aquantiances that knew people that would buy fluffies that were special. Good colors, alicorns, whatnot.

When it was an extermination job, he has his set up, proven time and again. A fan and a gallon of spaghetti. He sat on the tailgate of his pickup, eating his own bowl of spaghetti. The fan had been running for an hour at this point, flys fighting the wind to land on the cooling gallon of sauce.

He kept his eyes peeled on the edge of the tall grass. If a herd was around, they would definitely make their way to the spaghetti. It’s never failed.

Until now. He saw the snout of three fluffies peek through the grass, but they didn’t venture out of the weeds. He set down his bowl and grabbed his binoculars to see them back away.

Josh couldn’t help himself. “What the fuck?”


–You’re telling me you saw three possible adult size fluffies smell the spaghetti and didn’t run for it?–

Josh was on the phone with his friend, his contact to potential stores and rescues. “Yeah. I left the spaghetti and the fan going. I’m going to camp out tonight and watch em, this is too fucking weird.”

–yeah, that makes no sense at all. Get me some of them. Foals, adults, ugly or not, doesn’t matter.–


“Dat am sketti.”. Thor said matter of factly.

“…sketti…” Mario whispered.

Thor stomped his hoof, “dat am hoomin nummies, dey use day to gif biggiest owies to fwuffies. Nu go back.”

Greenie and River knew better than to go against Thor. Mario, however, couldn’t fight his urge. Not a single fluffy noticed him sneak off. As the sky turned violet, Mario crept past the cover of the grass. Every few steps he looked about cautious.

No human in sight, he gingerly made his way to the pot. The smell suppressing common sense. Eyes wide, he slowly lowered his head, saliva dripping into the sauce. This was heaven. The second and third mouthful he didn’t even chew.

Mario couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. But something was wrong. He got sleepy. His eyelids became so heavy and he fell to his knees. “Whu…?”


Josh affixed the collar with the gps tracker. It wasn’t fancy, it was a generic airtag attached to a collar. He left Mario near the tall grass and waited. It was nearly midnight when the fluffy stirred.

It was time. As Mario shakily got to his feet and wandered into the grass, josh prepped himself. A dozen leashes and collars, stuffed into his back pack and the flashlight in hand, he ventured into the field.

Into the forest. The fluffy was moving fast, well, fast for a fluffy. Josh was shocked to find that they were a quarter of a mile into the woods before the tracker stopped. And there was nothing.

He almost overlooked it. Multi colored bits of fluff stuck on the branches of the bush under a large oak. As smart as a fluffy was, there was little as compelling as the words Josh loudly called into the burrow.

“Fluffies, would you like a daddy and spaghetti? Daddy and sketties!”


The sleeping pile of fluffies stirred, the mass of fluff undulated as they all woke, the babies chirped and the foals on up mumbled as the words echoed and sank into their sleep filled minds. “Daddeh? Sketti?”

Thor pulled himself from the pile, “nu! Nu go, dat am twap!” He bit on Greenie’s nape and drug him to the back exit. “Wun 'way!” River and Greenie ran to the exit, it was too dark to see, but the cacophony of the fluffies shouting about sketties and daddehs was overwhelming. They ran.

Thor tried to get Blueberry to run, “buh Bwuebewwy wan daddeh.” She was grabbing her foals, and foals that weren’t hers, any she could reach, “babbehs nee daddeh and sketties, Smawty, muh special fwend, wets get sketti and get a daddeh.”

His herd was lost.


Greenie and River ran and ran. They ran until their tired legs couldn’t carry them anymore. When they could not go on any longer they hid. They had many hiding spots. The sun came up and they waited.

Greenie ventured out for food for both of them, extra cautious, extra quiet. They waited. One full bright time. As the sun went down River and Greenie cuddled for warmth. The sun couldn’t come up soon enough.

The next morning both fluffies cased their old nest. The plants had been trampled revealing the entrance. No living fluffy remained. But, strangely enough, as if another sign that Thor has been right all along, only four brown chirpy babbehs were left behind, they looked as if they were trampled.

They didn’t go into the nest, there was no need. Every fluffy was gone. “Wivew, yu aww Gweenie have weft.”

River hugged him, her favorite fluffy, “dat all Wivew nee’.” She hugged him and they cried for their loss. Greenie was now the smarty of this herd of two.

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I apologize for typos and formatting. This was written on my phone and autocorrect is a bitch.

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I have brain rot. When the fluffy said sus I eye twitched

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Yeah “sus” is only funny in YouTube Poops.

SuS SaS SoS

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Based pushka

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Thor was a good smartie. May his memory be a blessing.

Deez fwuffies, they couldn’t fight it.

Like a kid in a 90s ragu commercial, the call of the sketti was just too much.

\looks outside for vodka and menthol traps

…>O_o…> Hmm.

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Please tell me Mario died horrifically

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