Jelly lay in the poopie box for a very long time. The pain still throbbed, but it had been there for so long, that it became a strange background throbbing, joined by the hurties in her tummy, and the hurties in her heart. She would never run or play, ever again. She couldn’t give huggies to her babies, whom she might never see. She couldn’t talk, or move, or eat. She could never chew a peanut M&M ever again.
Her tummy was growling, and although her jaw and tongue lanced with pain whenever she moved them, Jelly knew that she must eat. But there were no nummies here. In the poopie box there was nothing but hunger and pain and sorrow…
And hunger. Jelly looked up to the ceiling, and the little grill that let in some light. Maybe if she could get closer to the grill, some nice babbehs could get some nummies to her? Jelly tried to move, and felt total agony. Her tears, pee and poop had finally managed to wash away some of the burnie sauce, but every so often, a little blob of sauce would move or disolve in some liquid, and cause terrible pain in her eyes or nose or no-no place. Her legs were nothing but crushed burned stumps, which made her cry with pain whenever she tried to move them. But Jelly knew that if she didn’t get nummies and wawa soon, she would die. So, despite the pain, she dragged herself towards the underneath of the grill. It took her almost an hour to move the 6 or so inches she needed to move, and when she was there, she fell unconscious from exhaustion.
Jelly was dreaming of mummah-Claire again. Claire had dressed her in a hula-girl outfit, and was taking her to a party, with lots of other fluffies and little girls. But once she got there, Jelly pooped on everything, and ruined the party. Jelly realised she was a very bad fluffy, and deserved to be pooped on in revenge.
When Jelly awoke, she was extremely thirsty, and starving hungry. Her hunger and thirst were so intense, that for a moment she forgot about her legs, jaw and tongue, and tried to get up and talk. Realising she could do none of these things made her want to cry, but her eyes nose and throat felt too dry, and tears simply couldn’t come.
Jelly knew she needed water really badly, but there was none in the poopie-cave, or was there? Jelly smelled the cave, which had the rancid smell of poop and pee-pee. Jelly saw a little puddle on the floor! Dragging herself over to it, she almost started crying again. It wasn’t water, it was pee-pee. Jelly wanted to scream and cry and beat the floor with her hooves in frustration, but she could do none of these things. She couldn’t even lick the pee-pee from the floor into her dehydrated mouth. Struggling, Jelly used her lips to get a small amount of the liquid inside her. Her jaw was agony, and her tongue, or what was left of it, felt horribly swollen inside.
Jelly fell into another fitful sleep.
This time, Jelly dreamt about Snowflake. In her dream, she was a fully grown Mare, and Snowflake was just a little baby. Jelly was tormenting Snowflake, and crushing her back legs. But this time, when Snowflake started to cry, Jelly felt really bad heart-owwies. Snowflake was just a little baby, how could Jelly hurt her? Jelly started to cry inside her dream, and realised she deserved to have her legs crushed in return.
When Jelly woke up, she was starving. Absolutely starving. She had no idea how long she had been down there, but she needed to escape soon or she was going to die. Looking up, she tried to call for help.
“UUuwghhg… UUGGHW…UUHFGW…” Jelly managed to gurgle.
“Wat am noise?” she heard a foal ask from above. Looking up, she could see six or seven foals, looking down at her.
HELP! Jelly wanted to say. Get Red Conan! Get Margaret! Get Mummah-Claire, but the only thing that came out was more gurgles.
“Munstah! It am a munstah!” One foal said
“I towd yu dewe am munstah in poopie-bawks” said another.
“Nu wike nasty poopie-munstah,” added a third.
“Stinky howwid poopie munstah need sowwee poopies,” yelled a slightly larger orange foal, as he turned and sprayed liquid poop into the poopie-box. It rained down from the grill above, and splattered all over Jelly’s matted filthy fluff. A steam of pee-pee followed.
The other foals laughed, taunted the munstah with made up songs, and then pooped and peed on it as well. Jelly tried to ask them to stop, but her gurgles just convinced them she was a munstah. Jelly cried again, somehow finding some tears.
She was so thirsty, and so hungry.
Moving her jaw, with slow agony, Jelly nummed poop and drank pee.
Unconsciousness.
Total blackness enveloped Jelly.
It didn’t last. Dreams came again.
This time, she was jumping up and down on a yellow pillowfluff named Marzipan.
“Kiww da babbehs! Kiww da babbehs KIWW DA BABBEHS!” She was singing
“Nuuuu!” Marzipan was crying, “Dem owny teeny-wittew tummeh-babbehs, dem soon-babbehs, pwease nu huwties!”
But Jelly just kept jumping, and singing, and hoofing the soon-mummah, until all the little babies spurted out of her special place, with a string of intestines and a puddle of blood.
“Babbehs!” the once soon-mummah had wept.
Then Jelly looked at them. The babies were red, and red, and blue and yellow. There were her babies. Strawberry and Red Cone, Nana and Blueberry. And she had killed them.
She knew then that she deserved to die.
Jelly woke again. More pain, more crying.
She tried to call out, more gurgles.
More poop, more pee-pee from above.
Jelly tried to see, but her eyes were sore and swollen.
She couldn’t see a baby red Unicorn dropping kibble down to her, just a few inches from her face.
She tried to eat more poopies, but it was too hard to work her jaw.
She drank some pee.
Tried to sleep, but the pain kept her awake.
Harder to breathe now… harder.
Hard to breathe…
THE END