Huggies and Wub “Ethical” Breeding Farm- PermaDeath

Fuck it, I’ve been lurking and leeching off of your guys’ creativity long enough, I’ll take a crack so I can attempt to give back to you guys! This is a sort of mini-series while I try to cook up a good one that can last more than a few chapters. Trying to decide if I should do a sub-story about Jack getting some old fashioned justice upon learning about Popcorn’s “poopie babbeh”. Let me know if that’s something you’d like to see.


“Pack of Pall Malls anddd forty in gas.” Jack grunted before sliding his card across the counter, “Pall Malls, mixing it up I see!” The bright eyed cashier responded as she passed back his card with a wide smile, a smile Jack didn’t return. “Just broke until tomorrow, but you try doing my job without a smoke.” He responds, eliciting a giggle from the cashier, “Hell no, you go ahead and keep dealing with the shitrats, I’ll stick to drunks and drug addicts.” She says, this actually got a slight chuckle from Jack. He thanks the woman and goes to start pumping gas, his normally bright green eyes bloodshot and his black hair combed haphazardly. He usually took better care of himself, but he’s on the graveyard tonight, so anyone who wanted to complain could get fucked.

As he drove down a dirt path in the wilderness, he passed a sign that was oddly off putting in the dark, a widely grinning fluffy in the “Uppies” pose with “Huggies and Wub Ethical Fluffy Breeding Farm” written beneath him. After a few hundred feet of trees, the fields around him opened up wide, with four massive chain link pens the field, two on each side, and all of them filled with small, multi-colored fluffies. He spotted a few staring in awe as his piece of shit car that hadn’t had a new part since his dad drove it in ‘95, their mouths open and hooves pressed firmly against the fence.

“Jack-Jack, what’s up man!” A scrawny dude with brown ass-length hair and a shitty beard shouts when jack enters the barn, he winces, “Fuckin’ hell Craig, not now, I’ve got a headache, and don’t call me Jack-Jack, it’s fucking stupid.” He groans as he falls into a computer chair and immediately opens up cameras, “Sorry dude, I’m hyped, got that music festival this week, thanks for covering my shifts by the way.” Craig responds, smacking his coworker genially on the back, “No problem, anything I gotta deal with tonight?” Jack responds non-commitally.

“Nah nothin’ crazy, Daisy isn’t due for another couple days and after what Thalia did to Flash, I don’t think he’s gonna be acting like a ‘smarty’ anymore, bitch cut his nuts off.” Craig says with a shudder, “She’s good at this job but damn she scares me.” He adds, “Anyway man, I gotta take off, flight leaves in the morning, good luck!” Craig calls as he takes his bag and leaves, “I think she’s a smoke show.” Jack says under his breath before gathering up some supplies and beginning his first walk of the night.

He stopped outside the first pen, lit by a spotlight set above the five hundred by five hundred foot enclosure, each one came with several individual dog houses, repurposed to fluffy houses so they could sleep despite the light. The owners of the farm had decided that instead of using the barn all year-round, they’d cut costs by stowing them in their during winter, then conserve power by leaving them in the chain-link pens with solar spotlights to ward off predators.

“Alright everyone wake-up! Time for a headcount!” Jack calls, the young man’s voice a far cry from the lifeless tone he’d been using prior to this, immediately, five fluffies came out of their respective dog-houses and lined up obediently, sitting on their rears with a couple of them doing their “uppies” pose out of habit, there were two couples, and two mares, one was pink with an orange mane named Sorbet, and the other one was bright yellow with a golden mane, her name was “Popcorn, where are your other three babies?” Jack asks suspiciously, raising a brow and taking his eyes off the clipboard as he looks down at the grinning unicorn and her single, fat as shit bright green and electric blue colt who was on his ass, waving his arms left to right and singing “Bestes’ babbeh am dancie Babbeh’!” At the top of his shrill, annoying as fuck lungs.

“Fwuf-Popcorn nu hab oda babbehs, onwy bestes’!” She attempts to lie nervously, but Jack sees her eyes flit briefly toward her nested doghouse, and he had also fucking been there when they’d been born, showing up a minute after the births began, what the hell was she going to do in the span of a minute? He begins to walk toward the doghouse, “Nuuu, daddeh nu wook in nesties! Dew am-“ Popcorn begins to shout, galloping as fast as her fat little legs can carry her and knocking the baby aside. Her pleading is cut off by Jack, “HOLY FUCK! POPCORN GET THE FUCK IN HERE NOW!”

He was looking at three, stunningly bright and beautiful alicorn foals, easily worth four hundred a piece all said-and done, the only issue was, all three of them were dead. Their ribs protruding, tongues lolled out, the floor beneath them covered in scant piss and shit, and their eyes a milky white, someone fucked up headcount for at least a couple days, because there was no way they’d only just died, this had to be twenty four to forty eight hours of zero sustenance cause the bitch didn’t feed them.

“Nu wowwy daddeh Jack, dey was munstah’ babbehs’ su bestes’ mummah Popcown…whewe daddeh takin bestes’ babbeh!?” She suddenly gasps, as soon as the colt had caught up to his mom whining about “Babbeh hab wowstes’ huwties!” Jack had snatched him from the floor and begun to briskly walk toward the pen’s door. “He’s not your baby anymore you psycho bitch, he’s going to a new momma who loves ALL her babies.” He responds in an ice-cold tone, slamming the door behind him.

He could hear Popcorn’s leathery, useless hooves pomphing against the door, “NUUU HUUU BWING BACK BESTES’ BABBEH! NEE MIWK AND HUGGIES!” She screams, “And guess what, last litter you little shit, tomorrow I’m telling veterinary to take away your special place!” He calls back mockingly, reveling in the screams this got from the mare.

“P-pwease take wittwe babbeh back to mummah…pwomise tu be gud.” The little fluffy says, quivering in Jack’s surprisingly soft palm. On a dime, the man’s demeanor changes again, not even minding the scaredy-poopies and pee-pees in his hand, he says softly, “No can do little guy, but I’m gonna give you a new momma, one that will have new brothers and sisters for you to play with.” He explains. As he finishes he arrives at Pen-4, the plaque above it reading “Rejects/Bestes’ Babbeh Rehab”. He opens the door and it seems that all the fluffies are asleep, all of them ranging from brown to green, with a sparse few bright colors also breathing slowly.

The foal in his hand gasps, “Dey wook just wike poopie bwudda’! He nu talkies wike mummah and sissies, he sweep in wittewbox and Mummah’ say he can onwy num poopies untiw nu wakies.” It says, it’s voice a mix of intrigue and…sadness? Nah, Jack had to be imagining it, little sociopaths these bestest babies were, this guy wouldn’t last a week, all he’d done was possibly give Jack a reason to finally get rid of Popcorn for good, she’d been a problem since she was born and this “Poopie Babbeh” was news to him, guess they could get some shit done in the span of a minute. “That’s sad little buddy, but there aren’t any bestest or monsters here, just good fluffies, okay? Someone will come check on you in the morning.” He explains softly before laying him into a fluffpile with a brown mare and several rejected babies.

The little guy settled down immediately, yawning and falling asleep, Jack cracked a grin at his bright colors standing out in the pile, even at night. He quickly corrected himself, little bastards were evil, evil, superficial, hateful little bastards, but even he doubted this as he heard the foal whisper out one last, “Wub nu mummah and bwuddas and sissies.” From the new foal as the door shut behind him.


A good start, interested to see what this goes.

One question though: how many babies did Popcorn have? There’s green and blue bestest, three dead alicorns and a poopie bwudda, making that 5.

However at headcount, Jack sees only bestest and asks about her other 3 babies , indicating the 3 alicorns. Did poopie get missed off or was he taken away already?


Ah yeah, I should probably edit and clarify that a little better upon looking back over it, I meant to imply that since he showed up a minute after the first birth, he hadn’t noticed the poopie foal because Popcorn had already shoved him off into the back of the litter box by the time he’d arrived at the pen. So the foal telling him about his “Poopie brother” was Jack’s first time hearing about it.


It makes a lot more sense now - thank you. :slight_smile:


I am looking forward to reading the next chapter of this story.
This was a strong beginning that left me wanting more!



this is what happens when you go with the “free range” style of fuffy raising instead of keeping mares in pens.


Will be interesting to see not only Popcorn’s punishment but what measures will be taken to ensure infanticide won’t be happening again amongst the general population. More surveillance & some rather strict disciplinary actions against workers who fail to check on the stock rigorously? :thinking:


You would think it would be far more efficient to pillow popcorn and use her as a “behind the scenes” breeder if she is producing alicorns. No fluffy farm is truly ethical, they gotta have an underground bunker or something for those gold mines or to get rid of the worst of the worst. Really excited to see how it progresses. Very good job


Yeah, Popcorn shouldn’t be spayed. She should be nuggetified apart from spaying, and used as a breeder and milkbag.


Having just had to run damage control at work today because of people skipping important little maintenance details, I do truly hope some farm employees are going to get yelled at over the headcount fail. At least my slackers dont kill expensive babies, they just make more work. But I felt the internal “grrrr.”


I like the idea of Bestest Rehab existing. I don’t think Bestest Babbehs are truly irredeemable, young kids just tend to believe everything their parents tell them

I’m picturing Bestest Rehab as some sort of preschool clone that rewards gold stars and Sketti for good behaviour.


I like it. Looking forward to more!

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