Meringue watched proudly as one of her talkie-babbehs, a blue and yellow colt, added to a pile of poopies beside the cardboard box they lived in.
“Take aw da poopies!” He said as he added to the pile, and Meringue gave a gentle clap with her front hooves. The yellow and orange mummah was so proud of her little foals taking so readily to doing good poopies in the specified area. It always not-pwetty to have their box home messed in.
“Bestest poopies! Yaysies ‘fo bigges’ cowt!” The two other talkie-babbehs cheered and gave him encouragement.
Little did they know that trouble was right around the corner. His name was Steve Stevenson and he was a normal guy. A good guy. He drank almond milk and always paid his taxes on time. When it was time to leave a tip, he always left more than he should. What he just saw made him feel disgusted.
He’d seen videos of these little monsters abusing brown fluffies on Flufftube. They always made them live in piles of shit, or eat shit. When was someone going to do about it? It was the one of the biggest injustices in the world and nobody was doing anything about it.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” He asked, storming into the alleyway.
“Hewwo fwend. Buggy make gud poopies.” The colt, apparently named Buggy, said with a big smile while looking up to Steve. The human grabbed him up by the neck and settled him back against a brick wall.
“Oh yeah? I know what you’re doing and why your family is cheering. Well guess what? I’m not gonna sit by and take it anymore!”
Meringue clattered out from her cardboard box, waggling her hooves at the man. “Nu! Buggy babbeh make gud poopies! He gud fwuffy! Smawtiest n bestiest ‘fo makin’ gud poopies!”
Steve glared down to her. “Oh, you’re next bitch.” Taking a keyring from his belt loop, he selected the one with the most grooves. “I’m going to make sure your ‘smartest bestest’ doesn’t even get to breed and learns a lesson.” With that, he set the key up against the colt’s penis and begin to saw away with his key. The colt screeched and flailed around.
“NU-NUUUU STICCKKK HUWTIES!” He screamed, Meringue taking the man’s pantleg in her mouth and trying to tug him around. It was futile, as soon he’d ended with Buggy’s no-no stick and started on the rest for good measure.
“SPECIAW WUMPS! PWEASE NU NICE MISTAH! BUGGY SOWWWWYYY!” He howled as the key sawed into the flesh of his most special sensitive place. They were ripped off and the colt was thrown facedown into a pile of rotten garbage. Meringue tried to get over to lick at him.
“Pwease nu cwy babbeh…” She whimpered to him, trying to make the booboo wawa go away.
Steve picked up the mare by the scruff of her mane. “Shut up! You didn’t even care for one of your babies! What’s one’s suffering to another’s?” He asked her, feeling righteous indignation rise up. Releasing her mane after using one of his other hands to grab a back hoof, he would wind back and slam Meringue face-first into an alley wall as if he was snapping a towel in a lockerroom. Her teeth smashed against the bricks, a few being embedded there.
“PWEASE MISTA, MEWANGUE GUD MUMMAH!” She sobbed and tried to tell him through a mouth filling with blood.
“Tell it to the wall!” He shouted to her and wound back so hard that it caused a spray of her blood to flick out into the street behind him, spinning on his heel and delivering her head into the wall with such force that it exploded like a piñata full of firecrackers. Bits of brain sloshed all over, skull fragments were thrown out like shrapnel, her tongue stayed sticking to the wall. He threw the body aside and breathed heavily.
“Alright, little guy. I’m here for you. Give me just a minute…” He said gently to the pile of poopies. Began to sift through the shit barehanded, because he heard crying. Where was the special neglected little baby? Hands covered with shit, he couldn’t find it.
“Uhh…” He could see two other foals standing by the corpse of their dead mumma. One orange and green. The other pure brown. The brown one was hugging her mummah’s leaking neck.
“Mummah…mummah pwease! Babbehs wub yew! ‘Nee mummah! SCREEEE!”
Steve looked on. Down to the shit on his hands. The corpse and the colt bawling in the trashcan. “Sorry. I…thought…” He got up, ran out of the alleyway.