Moving the boxes around, David finally found it, covering his mouth with his shirt as the smell threatened to make him lose his lunch. Swarming around the busted cardboard box were countless flies, buzzing about angrily now that they had been disturbed. Coughing as the smell of fetid decay filled the garage, David pulled out a knife, cutting through the tape around the old cardboard box. Gagging as he finally managed to work it open, he cursed lightly to himself. Within were the remains of the family Foal on a Pole, a decorative fluffy foal that sang various winter holiday songs, all while living within a convenient, see through glass box. David wasn’t quite sure how the damned thing had died, sighing as he hefted the box out to the curb, but he knew the missus would be furious if he didn’t put up the yearly Christmas decorations, singing foal included. The refuse now piled for the garbage-men to deal with, David made his way to his truck, starting the engine and making the drive to town.
Rubbing his eyes as he tried to stay awake, David pulled into the parking lot, downing the last bit of the soda he’d stopped for at the gas station along the way, thankful for the caffeine. Stepping into the store, he could instantly hear the varied, excitable chatter of countless fluffies, the biotoys calling out to the numerous shoppers, politely pleading to be bought. Walking over to the holiday section, David hoped that he could find a decent replacement so close to Christmas Eve. Peering over the multitude of encased foals, many appearing too nervous or scared to perform. Tapping on the glass of a green foal, the small filly curled up against her enclosure, David tested the little fluff. “Hey! Get up and sing! Sing if you wanna get bought!” Only trembling harder as he yelled, the filly chirped anxiously.
“*chirp…*chirp…scaw’d…*chirp…*chirp…”
Clearly she wouldn’t do, thought David as he continued perusing the enclosed foals until he finally found one that made eye contact as he passed. Stopping and leaning in towards the pale red foal’s lamp-like home. Staring towards the young colt, the anxious fluff began to sing, his eyes not daring to meet David’s as he did do.
“siiiwent nite…”
“huu’wee nite…”
“awww am cawm…”
“awww am bwite…”
“Not perfect, but you’ll do.” David grabbed the foal’s container, the abrupt shaking cutting the foal’s song short as it screeched before huddling against the lamp’s bottom, shaking as it relieved itself from fear. “Calm down, calm down…” Taking the sheepish foal to the register, David paid the attendant and took his new decoration home.
It was dark, save for the dull light the faux lamp that the colt called home gave off, as the foal shivered, quietly sobbing alone. It had been many forevers since his new owner had taken him home, only to place his sorry-lamp outside instead of inside the warm, bright house that the foal could just make out from where he was. It wasn’t so bad at first, with far fewer people shaking or rapping against his lamp, and many saying sweet and kind things to him as he sung for them. But as the sun went down, the air getting colder and forcing the foal to huddle around his nightlight for warmth, his thoughts went to his mother.
Before he’d opened his eyes, the foal had adored being close to his mom, being held and sang to sweetly after feedings, cuddling against her before sleeping each night. But after he had grown old enough to open his eyes, he was taken from her and placed in the sorry-lamp. He had seen countless others, just like him in their new forever homes, where they played the songs they were to learn over the speakers non-stop for countless hours. Those who learned to sing along were praised, given food that was almost like his mother’s milk, while others were shaken, screamed at, and eventually taken away.
Trembling from the encroached darkness and the bitter cold that tore through the miniscule warmth of the weak, buzzing bulb of his sorry-lamp, the foal raised his head slightly, trying to peer through the night, desperate for someone to comfort him.
“*chirp…*chirp…heww’o? …*chirp…*chirp…bab’eh wan ow’t…*chirp…*chirp…bab’eh wan be wawm…*chirp…*chirp…pw’e? …bab’eh be gud…”
As the twenty-sixth came along, David woke up early to take down the decorations, lest he enrage his sweet but vocal wife. Once the strands of lights were unstrung, and the wreaths removed from the front porch, it was time to put up the Foal on a Pole for the year. Walking to the end of his driveway, David could already tell that the little thing was sullen and despondent. It just didn’t have the same pep as his previous one, with David having to rattle it’s lamp and threaten it several times throughout the week, or else it’d refuse to sing at all. Still, at least he’d found a replacement on such short notice, thought David as he gripped the false lamp, twisting it off it’s base as the foal shot awake, peeping like mad as he tried to find his balance. “Simmer down little fella! Gotta put you up till next year…”
Screeching as he was spun violently, the red foal tumbled within his sorry-lamp, each bump marked by a series of pained and confused chirps before his owner started walking them towards the house. Disoriented at first, the foal slowly recovered, raising it’s head just in time to see that they were approaching the front door. Gasping slightly, the excited foal began to peep and trill happily, rising awkwardly on his back hooves as he hugged the lamp’s glass wall for a better look.
“*chirp…*chirp…*chirp…bab’eh hab how’see!!! bab’eh hab how’see!!! …*chirp…*chirp…*chirp…”
As he stared longingly at the porch, his undersized tail wagging frantically, the foal noticed that his owner had continued on past the steps, his eyes still locked onto the door as he was carried further and further away from it. “You don’t get to go inside, ya silly little thing! You’re a decoration, not a pet!” His nub dragging against the glass as the door finally faded from sight, the foal’s hopes were dashed. Sitting on his haunches, the foal began to cry, his hooves wiping away his tears as his owner opened the garage door.
“*huuu…huuu…huuu…*chirp…*chirp…bab’eh nu fow wuvs…*huuu…huuu…huuu…*chirp…*chirp…bab’eh am deco…*chirp…*chirp…”
Placing the lamp down within a cardboard box, David then pulled out a list of instructions, reading over them carefully as he began to put up the Foal on a Pole. First he twisted the top of the lamp, revealing the milk-pellet reservoir within. Taking a larger bag, he then attached it to the feeder, ensuring that the foal wouldn’t starve. Hesitating only for a moment, David then worked the bottom open as well, fanning his face as the smell of waste filled the room. Taking a short, widened metal cylinder, he opened the top, making doubly sure that the chemical pouches within were opened, so that all the foal’s leavings would be freeze dried, aiding with the smell. Satisfied that they were in working order, David screwed the canister to the bottom of the lamp, allowing the foal ample space for it’s waste. Lastly, David clicked a small button on the lamp’s side, the small bulb within flickering and then shutting off.
Having been mostly quiet and unresponsive after his owner had broken his heart, the foal only winced and twinged as the sorry-lamp was shaken and moved. But when the light suddenly went out, his eyes widened, his glance quickly shifting from the dead bulb to his owner, tape in hand as he prepared to seal the box.
“*screeeeeee!!! …*chirp…*chirp…nuuuuuuu!!! …*chirp…*chirp…bab’eh nee’ bwite ting!!! bab’eh nee’ bwite ting!!!”
As the tape screeched from being pulled, his owner closed down the lid, sealing the crevasses with the tape several times before finally stacking the box away with the other holiday stuff that predominated the corner of the garage. Content that the little bugger would survive till next year, David headed inside, wondering what his wife might be cooking for breakfast.
It had been dark before, those cold and lonely nights where the foal had curled around the warmth of the flickering light. But as the light went out, and his owner sealed the sorry-box around him, the foal knew what it was to be plunged into real darkness. Unable to see, the foal began to panic, hyperventilating as he ran little circles around his lamp in a frenzy.
“*screeeeeee!!! …*chirp…*chirp…hewp!!! …*chirp…*chirp…bab’eh scaw’d!!! …*chirp…*chirp…nu wike dawk’ees!!! …*chirp…*chirp…”
After hours of screaming, rapping blindly against the glass of his sorry-lamp, and frantic running, the foal was exhausted, having huddled against the now cold bulb of his lamp, whimpering and trembling as he tried to console himself to no avail.
“*huuu…huuu…huuu…*chirp…*chirp…bab’eh wan wuv…*huuu…huuu…huuu…*chirp…*chirp…am bab’eh ba’? …*huuu…huuu…huuu…”
As the foal sniffled and sobbed for what seemed like forever, he was interrupted by a voice, soft and muffled, that seemed to come from underneath him.
“…hewwo?”
Startled at first, the foal began to wipe away his tears, peering around despite the darkness, unsure of where the voice was coming from.
“*chirp…*chirp…*chirp…bab’eh am hewe!!! …*chirp…*chirp…*chirp…pw’e sab bab’eh!!! …*chirp…*chirp…*chirp…”
“…nu can sab babbeh…am in sowwy box tu…babbeh hab namsies?”
Heartbroken that his newfound friend couldn’t save him, the foal took solace that at least he wasn’t alone anymore, even if he couldn’t see or hug them.
“*chirp…*chirp…*chirp…bab’eh am deco! …*chirp…*chirp…*chirp…nyu fwend hab nam’sees? …*chirp…*chirp…*chirp…”
“…am pum’kin…”
Saw part two of Foal on a Pole and was inspired to write this.
Thanks again to @SouthernKilling for their permission. 
Next part will be coming soon so stay tuned.
Well… Suck for the fluffies but still… XD