MO’ MIWKIES, MO’ PWOBWEMS (Mummah’s Wittew Sensitibe Babbeh) -Hugbox Edition-
By FoalOut4
Carl is having a rough time in life. His longterm girlfriend recently left him, and things aren’t going too well with his work or social life.
His sister suggested that he buy a fluffy to keep him company, and she made up a makeshift saferoom for him. She even let him babysit her good-natured pegasus stallion Bluebird a few times, but just as he was getting attached to him, he had to leave.
One day Carl drives his beat up pickup truck next to an alleyway on the other side of town, gets out, and is about to walk down the street to the local ABC Store when he hears something odd a little ways into the alley.
He walks closer, and soon he hears some rustling near some boxes, followed by a whispering of foal voices, chirping and peeping sounds, and a mare quietly hushing them.
Carl breaks down and loudly proclaims to the alleyway that he is lonely. That his special friend left him. That his home is open if any nearby fluffies want to keep him company.
A blue pegasus mare quickly crawls out of her hiding place among the tattered boxes to greet him, with five foals squirming around on her fluff.
Some of the foals on her fluff are speaking words like “Nyu fwend?”, “Mummah, huggies!”, “Scawy!”, and “Babbeh scawed!” While one rolly-polly blob of a foal is just chirping and peeping away.
“Pwease nu cwy nice mistah! Fwuffy an babbehs wiww gif you huggies and wuv! Pwease be nyu daddeh fow mummah an babbehs?” The mare says.
The mare has five foals squirming in her fluff. A green earthy colt, an orange earthy colt, a brown unicorn filly, a red pegasus filly, and an overweight purple pegasus colt.
That foal sure has packed on the pounds, he’s at least twice the size of the other foals, with rolls of fat on him. The fatness on him seems to swallow at least half of his legs and tail.
The fat purple pegasus colt looks up at Carl, and bellows out a happy series of chirps and peeps, then slowly waddles over to its mother, and rapidly suckles from her crotch tits.
The other foals are chattering away, already talking. But the fat one is still chirping and peeping, must be developmentally challenged. They all look barely a week old at the most.
Carl reaches down, and gently plucks up the fat purple pegasus foal from its mother’s crotch tits.
“Hi there little fella! Aren’t you a rolly-polly one!”
The alarmed foal starts loudly squealing scardy chirps and peeps, makes scardy pees and scardy poops, and flails its legs wildly in all directions. Its eyes are watering and tears are pouring down its face, its very frightened and in a panic.
“Whoa, whoa, sorry. Chill out, I just wanted to pet you, geez!”
The mare tears up and rushes up to Carl in great concern. She places her hoof on his knee, and pleads,
“Pwease nyu daddeh, gif back mummah’s wittew sensitibe babbeh! Dat babbeh am sensitibe! He nees tu be wif mummah, ou babbeh cwys! Dat gifs mummah tu many heawt huwties! Huuu Huuu!”
“Okay, okay. Sorry.”
Carl says as he gently places the sensitibe babbeh back down. The foal slowly waddles his adorable fat self back over to his mummah, crying, making scardy chirps and peeps.
The mare happily coos at him to calm him down.
After everything calms down, Carl loads them all up into his beat up truck, and drives them home.
He introduces them to his makeshift saferoom. It has a makeshift fluffy bed, some basic fluffy kibble in a red bowl, a fluffy water bottle, some bargin bin fluffy toys, and a few hamster tubes on the ground. As well as a standard litterbox.
The fluffies react as though they are living in a billion dollar mansion, thanking him over and over like they just won the sweepstakes.
“Well, I’m just glad to have some company for a change. You guys sure are welcome.”
Carl helps them all settle in for the next several days.
Carl watches the foals play with their new toys, stack blockies, watches them sleep, and nurse from their mother, especially the sensitive purple one who always feeds three times longer than the others. Carl eventually confronts her about this out of concern.
“That baby is overweight because you let him drink most of your milk. You’re spoiling him!”
The mummah replies “Dats otay, becuz dat am mummah’s wittew sensitibe babbeh!”
Carl sighs and shrugs.
The foals and the mummah have been doing a perfect job of pissing and shitting in the litterbox, their mother has taught them well on her own, which makes him wonder if she was a house fluffy at some point.
Every time the fat purple pegasus foal has to piss or take a shit, it bellows out a series of adorable chirps and peeps to let his mummah know, and she picks him up and places him in the litterbox until he’s done.
She even sings a litterbox song to him while he pisses and shits. The rolly-polly foal smiles and makes happy chirps and peeps while she sings it to him.
“Gud poopies go in da wittewbox, gud peepees go in da wittewbox, mummah’s wittew sensitibe babbeh make gud peepees and poopies in da wittewbox!”
Carl eventually decides to call the local Fluffy Shelter, where his sister works, to see if there’s any special way he can help the “sensitibe babbeh” of this litter. He’s never heard of a foal like this before.
CARL: “Hey, is my sister Jen working there today?”
EMPLOYEE: “Sorry, she just ended her shift, you just missed her. Is this Carl? Can I help you with anything?”
CARL: “Yeah, I picked up a mare and her foals from the city a few days ago, they were living on the street you see. Well, the mare has one particular foal that she refers to as her “sensitibe babbeh”. He’s very overweight, she coddles him more so than the others, feeds him way too much, and although he’s old enough to talk, he only chirps and peeps. Any advice on how to care for this one?”
EMPLOYEE: “Hmmmm, I see. Looks like you’ve got a foal suffering from Sensitive Baby Syndrome on your hands. SBS for short. It’s a fairly uncommon condition, but it does happen. The foal is developmentally challenged, he will be unable to communicate beyond a chirpy foal’s instinctive chirps and peeps. His teeth will never grow in, and he will be unable to eat normal kibble. We can sell you some formula to feed him when his mother is unable to produce milk for him anymore. It will be more nutritionally balanced and should help with his weight.”
CARL: “Wow, I see. Glad I rescued him and his family off the street then. Thanks for letting me know!”
EMPLOYEE: "No problem, and the formula shouldn’t cost you too much, about the same as their standard kibble.
CARL: Cracks Joke “Mo’ Miwkies, Mo’ Pwobwems.”
EMPLOYEE: “Huh?”
CARL: “Oh, nothing. Just joking around.”
EMPLOYEE: “Well, is there anything else you’d like to know?”
CARL: “Yeah, actually. I suspect the mare might have once lived in a home, or shelter. Just a feeling I have. How should I go about asking her?”
EMPLOYEE: “You should start by asking her name, if you haven’t already. We could then check the local database from our end.”
CARL: “Okay, great! She reminds me a lot of my sister’s fluffy, Bluebird, only he’s a stallion and she’s a mare. Same color and type, and–”
Carl hears the sensitibe babbeh squealing scardy chirps and peeps from the saferoom, with its mummah and siblings babbling in hysterics!
CARL: “I’m sorry, I gotta go!” Click
He rushes into the saferoom to find …
The sensitibe babbeh has gotten himself stuck in a hamster tube.
The fat purple pegasus foal is squirming his legs rapidly around in all directions trying to free himself from the tube. He is crying and screaming scardy chirps and peeps non-stop, peeing and pooping himself, and hyperventilating at the same time.
“Hold on, I’m coming!” yells out Carl at the sight.
The mare, crying her eyes out, pleads with Carl to help free her “wittew stuck babbeh, pwease daddeh, pwease! Babbeh scawed! Babbeh scawed! Nee tu be wif mummah!”
Carl carefully picks up the hamster tube containing the fat foal, and leaves the room.
The mare and her other foals try to follow him, but Carl stops them, telling them that he needs to do “hoomin magic” to help her babbeh out.
“It will be okay, he’ll be fine, don’t worry! I’ll just use some ‘hoomin magic’ on him and he’ll be out in a jiffy!”
Carl says as he shuts the saferoom door safely behind him.
Carl takes the sensitibe tubed foal into the kitchen with him on the other side of the house.
The poor little babbeh is scared and squealing loudly from being away from its mummah.
The foal is glancing all around the room, hoping to catch a glance of her. He rapidly bellows out a series of scardy chirps and peeps.
“Shhh, it’s okay little one. I’ll have you out of there and back to your mummah before you know it!”
Carl opens up a drawer in the kitchen and takes out a mini-saw, and a first aid kit. He places both on the table next to the frightened foal in the tube.
He takes the mini-saw and very carefully saws directly in front of and directly behind the frightened foal, who freaks out, scardy peeping and chirping.
“Sorry. I’m sure I can get you out of there with enough patience and skill, I just gotta be extra careful.”
Carl puts his hand out in front of the frightened foal in a reassuring manner.
“It’s okay little one, you’re in safe hands.”
The sensitive foal seems to calm down a bit, and reaches out his little hooves to hold Carl’s fingers, and starts suckling on one.
“Awww. Maybe I should name you … Peeper!”
Peeper grows a wide smile on his face, and starts happily chirping and peeping as if trying to say, “Tanks daddeh fow nyu name!”
After some time and patience, Carl manages to get Peeper free from the hamster tube. But upon breaking the rest of the tube apart to set him free, the foal gets some minor cuts and abrasions, and chirps and peeps rapidly upon sliding out.
“I’m sorry about that little Peeper, I can fix you up right now.”
Carl opens the first aid kit, and takes out some neosporin and some bandages.
Carl carefully applies the neosporin to the hurt foal, and then bandages him up. Peeper happily chirps and peeps once he’s all fixed up.
“There, all better! Lets get you back to your mummah!”
Carl carries the foal back to the saferoom, while it lets out happy chirps and peeps over and over.
Carl gives the sensitibe babbeh back to his mother, as he happily chirps and peeps in her hooves. She’s very happy to see him free, but she looks a little concerned.
“Tank ‘ou su muchies Daddeh! Bu’ why am mummah’s wittew sensitibe babbeh haf dis not-fwuff stuff on?”
She points with her hoof to the bandages tied around his fluff.
“Oh, he had some small boo-boos when I got him unstuck from the tube, so I made them better. Don’t worry, we can take them off tomorrow!”
“Otay Daddeh! Am jus happy sensitibe babbeh am back wif mummah nao!”
She hugs and coos at him, as he happily chirps and peeps at her. Her other foals come up to him and give him huggies as well!
“I named him Peeper!” Carl says.
Mummah fluffy’s eyes light up and she smiles widely.
“Dat am gud name fow babbeh! Tank 'ou Daddeh fow nice name fow babbeh!”
Carl also names the four other foals. Grassy, Oranges, Caramel, and the red one Paint, because the red looks almost painted on. Their mummah again thanks him for their new names.
“So, uh, what’s YOUR name Mummah fluffy?”
Mummah fluffy points to herself with her hoof and says,
“Mummah fwuffy am Bwuebaww.”
“Blue Ball?” says Carl.
She nods happily.
“What about your special friend? Where is he?” Carl asks.
Blue Ball tears up a bit and says,
“Bwuebaww speciaw fwend went tu fin’ nummies fow mummah an babbehs many bwight times ago, bu’ nebew wetuwned.”
“Aw, that’s sad. I’m so sorry. What was his name?”
“Stan’toun.”
“Ah, Stanton.”
Carl plays with them for a bit, then goes to make a phone call.
The shelter is now closed, so he dials his sister.
“Hey, sis. I took your advice and adopted a fluffy family, from off the street actually. And I think the mare I got was once a house fluffy. She’s a blue pegasus mare, says her name is Blue Bell. Could you check the shelter’s records tomorrow for that name?”
“Sure I can! Wait, say that name again?!” Jen replies.
“Blue Bell, a blue pegasus mare.”
“Oh - my - GOD!” Jen says, before spiraling into a long winded story about how back when she originally bought her stallion Bluebird, she had bought his identical sister along with him, and named her Blueball. Two weeks after settling her in, they went to the city park to play with other fluffies, and Blueball wondered off, never to be seen again.
“WOW! She was living in an alleyway not too far from the city park where I found her. I’m glad I wandered into that alley when I did.” Exclaims Carl.
“I’m so relieved that she’s alright. I’ll bring Bluebird with me tomorrow when I visit.”
Jen brings her stallion Bluebird over the next day for a reunion with Blueball, and they all play together that afternoon. Blueball is very happy to see her “bwudda” again after so long. Jen hugs Blueball and she instantly recognizes her.
Jen remarks at how well the sensitibe babbeh, Peeper, has gotten along with and attached to Carl so far.
Blueball often crawls up on the couch whenever Carl watches TV in the living room, and picks up Peeper and sits him on Carl’s lap while he watches TV. He happily chirps and peeps on his lap while Carl pets his head.
The following week, Jen checks the records of the Shelter for a “Stanton” the special friend of Bluebell. There were no matches at her Shelter, so she contacted the Shelter on the other side of town.
As luck would have it, there is a Stanton there, a Purple Unicorn stallion. He had been brought in some time ago, having been found badly beaten in a gutter.
According to Stanton, he had asked some kids for nummies for his special friend, and they cruely beat him senseless and left him for dead.
Stanton has made a full recovery, and was just about to be put up for adoption when Jen found out about him.
A tearful reunion was held with Stanton as Carl and Jen bring Blueball with them to the Shelter to adopt him.
Now, Carl’s new fluffy family is finally complete.
[The End]
a very nice alt take to your original story! 