One Bad Foal (Hibachi Story 2) by Deathproofpony

Another Hibachi greentext pulled from Deathproofpony’s ancient tumblr posts

be a fluffy pony breeder
a very special breeder. you breed fluffies to be used in restaurants.
the latest fad is cooking fluffy foals alive on a hibachi grill
man, those Japanese… is there anything they won’t think of?
your clients are very particular about your product.
first and foremost, you feed them a particular diet that makes their meat more tender and plentiful
they get very little sweets. some of them you continue on milk well past their normal weaning time
that makes the meat more succulent and tender.
clients also don’t like “ugly” fluffies. that is… any fluffy with a missing ear, broken
leg, etc.
not so much a big deal although sometimes accidents happen, fluffies get in fights, and so forth.
you’re checking out a group of mares that just gave birth about three weeks ago.
their foals are about the size of large guinea pigs. perfect.
casually pluck foals from their mothers, who cry and complain
if they keep crying after two minutes they get the sorry stick.
you get to the end of the row of cages. Well, not really cages.
it’s a series of two foot high pieces of plywood made into three foot by three foot pens.
each has some pee-abosrbant pads on the floor, a cheap dog bed, litterbox, a water dish and a food dish
six of them here. you also have another dozen in the other room.
those have mares who have given birth anywhere from a couple of days ago to a couple of weeks ago
in another room you have four stallions. your breeders.
anyway, you get to the last of the row of cages to derpy.
she’s a gray mare with blonde tail and mane and a lazy eye.
always seemed slow, too, but her foals were always healthy
well, except today.
she only had one foal last time for some reason.
you pluck it from her teat. despite being three weeks old, its speech center is barely formed
it giggles and coos at you and makes nonsensical baby sounds
“pwease giff babeh back.”
“Shut up, Derpy, I need to inspect it.”
aw FUCK - you notice one of the legs bend completely wrong - broken.
you touch its leg and immediately the foal screams in pain
the other mares instinctively grab their foals in their arms
when the fuck did it get a broken leg? fatass probably rolled over on it in her sleep
“Derpy why does this baby have a broken leg?”
“dewpy dunn kno. babeh go sweepies and wen wake up haff bud huwty weg.”
“Are you shitting me? I can’t sell this piece of shit!”
you tear the foals wings off and rip off its broken leg. you throw them at Derpy.
“Fucking useless! Worthless! And YOU… you only make one foal this time around. you better squeeze out a few more nex time!”
the foal screams, its retarded brain unable to even find the word for “mama”. instead it babbles in pain.
“wub na gahhhh! muhhh glarble!”
you throw the worthless foal against the wall.
several ribs and a couple more legs break and it slides down to the floor leaving a bloody streak.
its barely alive, somehow, but not for long. leave it with the retard mother.
remember to call ivan later to clean the remnants from stupid’s cage and to bleach the blood off the wall
don’t want to attract flies.
“wuh huwt babeh! po babeh mumma hewe! babeh haff hugsies!”
predictably, the foal screeches as derpy tries to hug it… too stupid to comprehend it has multiple broken bones
get back to the healthy foals
you’ve got fourteen healthy foals. six fillies and eight colts.
each is prepared the same way.
first is a thorough spanking to let them know who’s in charge.
then give them a zap from a small cattle prod to stun them
squeeze each over the trash can to get the excess shit and piss out of them
feed each one a laxative
starve them for 24 hours. during that time, they have a pipe shoved in their ass to drain the liquid diarrhea.
after 24 hours and their digestive tract is mostly clear, give them a bath in hot water
a little hotter than it should be. makes the fluff puffier and their skin pinker.
any time they complain or cry about any part of this process they get zapped with the cattle prod
finally, you dry each with a hair dryer.
clean out their ears with Q-tips, pop a small cork into their anus and finally a small alligator clip on the penis
can’t do much about the females peeing themselves although the males usually do it more
a combination of fear and a genetic disposition to mark territory.
finally, you pop the fluffies into a special crate with compartments made of cardboard
each compartment forces the fluffy to sit up, like a dog sitting up for a treat
this is mainly to give chefs and diners a good look at their fluffy before choosing them

it also helps to keep the cork in their rear end and if they do pee themselves, it only gets on their rear legs and bottom
easier to clean off
plop each crying fluffy in a crate. you’ll drive this one across town to Benihana.
you’ve been meaning to swing over there to try the latest fluffy foal dish
oshit… one of the fluffies is trying to escape. a little blue one with a dark blue mane.
“wahhhhh! wan mama! dun wan bad box! hewp! hewp mama! hewp fwuffy!”
you zap the almighty christ out of this one. damn near stop its heart after the thirteenth or fourteeth zap.
it lays smoking on the ground. the others just look at it in fear, silently sobbing to
themselves
quick clean off blue, reapply cork and alligator clip
call ahead to Benihana for a reservation… and to make sure this little blue fucker is saved especially for you.
you put the crate of foals in your truck and head across town.
the thought of freshly-cooked foal watching you eat it alive already making your taste buds water.
you hope they have good beer.

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