Jokes And Japes: By Stwumpo

[Stwumpo]

A busy Fluffmart is a chaotic place, and nobody can hope to oversee it effectively.

In the weanling enclosure, dozens of babbehs mill about aimlessly. A chubby white pegasus is waddling around, peeping his heart out, when he is grabbed from above. Unable to make a sound, he is flipped on his back and feels a pressure on his tummy. Very soon the litter trained foal shits himself uncontrollably. Amidst the commotion, nobody saw what happened. By the time he started shitting, his assailant was gone.

…

“Oh for Pete’s sake, really? I’ve heard enough excuses today, you’re going in the bad baby bin.” The babbeh shakes with fear. “Nuuu! Nu babbeh fawt! Big meanie make babbeh hab bad poopies!” As he finishes his detailed and well reasoned defense, he finds himself tossed roughly into a cardboard box on the checkout counter. There are five other babbehs, all easily twice his size. They were here because they were ugly, unpleasant, or just didn’t sell. Two of them even had their manes.

The white babbeh was so afraid. He missed his mummah. He hated the bad poopies munstah.

…

Greta sits with her chirpies on her soft tummeh in the Mummah Corner. Over here is where the families go. When the store has a soon mummah, she goes in the corner. As long as she’s good, she can get adopted. Even once her babbehs are born, they try to sell all as one unit. It’s a terrific way to find a home, as most abusers aren’t looking for a whole family.

A hoomin with a hoodie on approaches her, hand in his pocket. “Hello.” He says quietly. “Do you want a new home?” Greta perks up. “Weawwy? Fow mummah an babbehs?” The man nods. “May I see one of your babbehs? I want to be sure they’re good babbehs.” Greta nods. This makes sense. “Dey aww gud babbehs, Gweta wub aww babbehs. Hewe am bigges chiwpie!” The man held the babbeh, gold and shimmering under the flourescent lighting. Then he pulled two pieces of plastic out of his pocket. They had teeth on them. Fluffy teeth.

Before Greta could ask what it was, the hoomin clamped it on her babbeh’s hear place! He went from happy peeping to scaredy cheeping! That’s the worst kind! The man pinched the sobbing foal a few more times, including once on the front legs and twice on the tail. Satisfied, he dropped the babbeh back on the mummah.

“Hey! Hey sir? You work here? This mare is a ripoff, she’s been biting her kid. I can’t buy this for my daughter!”

Greta is distracted by her panicked babbeh. His eyes aren’t even open yet and he’s in agony. His front left weggy is bent funny, and his tail appears to he hanging limp like a sock full of coins. The Fluffmart employee grabs him from her, snapping her back to reality.

“Nu! Babbeh hab huwties! Nee mummah!”

“Oh no, not this time. You fucked up. Bad mummahs say goodbye to their babies. We’re putting you in the smarty pens.” She screams. “Nuuuu! Smawty pen bad fow babbehs!”

The man in the hoody speaks up.

“I’ll take them.”

…

Two colts play with a ball in their cage. A man walks by, and as he does, he brushes his arm over the top of the cage. The green unicorn looks upwards, almost falling over backwards. Before he can speak, he feels something fall on him. It gets in his mouth and tastes yicky so he starts spitting and swiping. But it’s itching. It itches so bad! “Hewp! Babbeh hab wowstest itchies! Nu feew pwetty! Babbeh scawed!”

His companion is frightened and starts running in little circles shrieking for help. “Hewp! Hoomins hewp babbeh! Babbeh scawed!” His friend was begging for help, but the poor blue babbeh was too afraid to go over. What if he got the worstest itchies?

“Aw shit, cage twelve is doing something.” The babbehs don’t understand. The green one is barely aware he’s being discussed. He’s now chasing the blue one begging for a hug. “Pwease! Babbeh nee huggies! Itchies gibbin babbeh pinchie huwties an wittwe buwnie owwies!” The employee shook his head and plucked up the blue foal, who was in tears with gratitude.

“Fankyu! Babbeh su scawed! Nice mistah gunna sabe bestest fwend?” He looked at him, and looked at the suffering colt quivering in the cage. His supervisor came over with a spray can. “Holy shit, that’s fleas. I can tell from across the room. You’re touching that one? Did they have contact?” The human shrugged. “Dunno. He’s not itching or nothing.”

The older man frowned. “That colt is ridden with fleas. If they were both in there it’s only a matter of time before he gets it.” He crosses his arms and computes for a moment. “Pull the file. Figure out if we have any others in here from their batch. They’re average colors, so they might be donations or kids of strays.”

The blue babbeh is tossed casually back inside. He lands on his friend, and sure enough he starts to itch. They embrace, both now aboard the same terrified raft in the same dangerous river. Over the next few minutes the hoomins occasionally brought other fluffies. A few babbehs, and the nurse fluff from when they’d been chirpies a few days ago! But every fluffy that joined them started itching too.

“Huuuuuuu wai gif itchies? Hewp Sunfwesh! Hab miwkies fow wittwe chiwpies! Deez babbehs tuu big!” The babbehs had begun seeking refuge in the only mother they’d known, and Blue sought sweet miwkies to make him feel better. He was met with a harsh bop on his nose. “Nu! Bad babbeh! Big babbeh nu steaw miwkies fwum Sunfwesh!” His pained cheeping didn’t move her. “Shaddup! Nu wike miwkie feef!” She bopped him on the head again.

The cage was carried to the back. Finally it was quiet, and the fluffies could start to think. They were all itching, and they didn’t have much room the cages were big enough for a handful of babbehs, but the Nurse took up half the space, and they were over capacity. The cage was set in a large basin with a spigot.

“Okay guys, uhhhh, we need you all to be good fluffies now. We’re gonna make the itching stop, but it’s gonna get wet. Just…try to make sure you get it all over you. Gotta get ALL of them.”

The other human looked suspicious. “Why aren’t we just euthanizing them normal?” The first man chuckled. “Because we can’t kill them in the furnace anymore and I’m not staying late to decontaminate the fucking ‘goodbye room’ for some fleabitten trash. This’ll kill the whole infection, and it’ll do it without amplifying their screams through the bellows like the furnace would do.” A spigot came on and started slowly filling the basin with liquid. The fluffies became scared, as wawa is of course bad for fluffies. They’re scurrying around, but the humans calm them.

Then the liquid reached their feet.

The first couple babbehs, the small ones at the bottom, were the first to feel it. This was cold like wawa, but it gave the worst burnie hurties! They started screaming almost instantly, but the other babbehs drowned them out.

The basin kept filling. Now everyone was feeling it. The babbehs were largely abandoning words, as babbehs do when threatened. The nurse was terrified. “Hewp! Hewp fwuffies! Babbehs gunna dwown! Sabe aww babbehs an sabe Nuwsie!” The human who’d put them here laughed and shook his head. “No, you’ve gotta get the bugs off you.” She was confused.

“Wha? Nu! Nu hab buggies, am Nuwse! Hab wittwe chiwpies! Dey nee miwkies!” The caustic solution was burning her nipples, it had gotten so high. “Huuuu miwkie pwaces huwt suuuuuu bad! Hewp!”

“Oh shit,” said the other human. “I forgot her chirpies. They’ve probably got it too.” He quickly jogged away.

The babbehs were dying and the air smelled like chemicals, blood, shit, and dead foals. The nurse was vomiting from a combination of pain, fumes, and the sheer stress of her situation. “Huuuu babbehs…” She strained to look at the human still with her. He’d come closer, which was good because her vision was getting blurry. “P…pwease…take cawe…ub aww da wittwe chiwpies…” She slumped over, leaning against what was basically a wriggling mound of dissolving foals. “Nuwse gunna gu sweep fowebba. Pwease jus…chiwpies am gud chiwpies. Nu gib owwies. Onwy wub an…an miwkies…” As she was fading, the other human came in with a small bucket. A peeping bucket. Her chirpies! The humans wanted her to be able to see them before she died!

Then he poured them in through the top.

The babbehs had been sleeping, all together in a tight pile. They were still basically pink skin with a dusting of color, any idiot could see they had no fleas. One idiot did see that. She saw it while she spent her last moments seeing the only things she loved drowing in water that burned their flesh away from their bones.

…

“Dude they need to get cameras. It’s not even fair.”

“What’re you gonna do with the foals? Didn’t think you’d buy them.”

“I mean they’re cheap. Besides, did you see her face when he gave them to me? Priceless.”

“Still, now you’ve got to deal with them.”

“Why? They’re in a box. They’re dealt with.”

“Yeah but what are you gonna do with the box?”

“Probably put it in the toolshed. Got some space there.”

“Will they get enough air there?”

“Shit, I sure hope not.”