“Wai deah poopies wight deah?”
The yellow soon-filly squirmed. “Su… su… sowwy.
“Whewe suppose to go poopies, dummeh?”
She looked down, pointing a hoof at the back of the hole. At the very back was small, shallow area dug out. It was slowly filling with excrement despite being the darkest part of the area.
“Mabbeh yu babbehs nu get nummies now,” Smarty yawned. “No wan waste nummies on bad bebbehs whu no can eben poop in wight pwace.”
“Nuuu! Pwease!” pleased the blue soon-filly.
“No faiw!” the red soon-colt protested.
“No fair” caught Smarty’s attention. “Su what? Wife no faiw. Smawty hab aww da bes nummies. Get to be in fwuff piwe ebewy dawk time. Eben hab towsies. Smawty hab ebewytin’, and babbehs onwy hab nuffin’ unwess Smawty feew wike gibin’.”
The three looked up at Smarty. Repentant, desperate, indignant.
Jade looked down at the red fluffy. He was growing up so big and strong, standing up for his two not-sisters. What a good toughie he could’ve been.
“Smawty make wed babbeh a deaw,” Smarty smiled. “Wiww gib odda babbehs nummies,”
“Wed do it.”
“Ooh, nebah eben heaw what Smawty said had fow do!”
“Wed do it.”
“Den num Yewwow’s poopie.”
The red weanling kept his eyes on Smarty, licking the pile of scat. His face contorted at the smell, the taste, but he kept at it. Soon hunger took over and he dug in, disgusted but famished.
Smarty watched, her face pulled back behind the hole’s edge.
“Wemembew wha’ Wed du for yu, Yewwow an’ Bwue almos’-fiwwies,” she said, lowering in a branch of leaves. “Bad t’ings happen when yu du bad t’ings.”
The moon was up high, the night air muggy and hot. Inside the hole light shone through the branches and leaves covering it, dusting the weanlings within.
“Fwuffy nee’ wun away.”
“No can, d’oh! Tu wittwe!”
“Bwue t’ink ob somet’ing.”
Jade lay near it, watching, listening, waiting for them to sleep.
“Goddammit, Lauren! Yes, I got a DUI! Big fuckin’ deal!”
Vanilla whimpered, hiding his head as his daddy yelled into his little black thingie.
“What do you want? That fucking thing still has its leg! No, they didn’t have to amputate it. I didn’t hit it that hard! Know what got hit hard? My fucking wallet, that’s what! $500 for Melissa’s fucking disposable shit-rat. I could’ve bought her a new one, Lauren. I should’ve bought her a new one!”
The white fluff looked out of his dog house and into the forest. Every time he got scared he wanted to go there. Deep in to it where daddy couldn’t find him. Where the tree fluffies lived. Could they make him one of them? Could they make his fluff green or brown or black? Make him disappear?
“No, know what? I’m sick of it. I work a shit-ass job for a shit-ass boss to pay for child support and this is the thanks I get? I deserve a fucking break,” Mike yelled. “Yeah, right, just TRY and get that restraining order, bitch. I’ve got rights too, and right now I feel like I’ve got the right to beat your ass…. Hello? Hello?”
Daddy’s black thing clattered on the ground as Vanilla felt his hand grab him by the scruff of the neck.
“You’re fucking dead to me.”
“Da…daddeh?”
“Don’t ‘daddy’ me,” Mike barked, breath reeking. “That whore is taking away my daughter. MY daughter. And the worst part is the only reason she comes here to see YOU. Ungrateful little bitch, just like her mom.”
“Daddeh, pwease, wittle mama is gud…”
“SHUT UP.”
Mike’s grip tightened as he opened the fence’s back gate. Walking to the tree line he threw Vanilla into a bush. The fluffy yelped in pain, falling through the branches.
“Go, run. Fucking LEAVE,” Mike growled. “I don’t give a shit anymore. You’re not my problem.”
Fuming, he went stormed to his metal monster and peeled out of his driveway.