Pathetic creatures. Finale (by no_sketti_on_tuesdays)

Whelp here it is. Not gonna lie. I had fun writing this little series but I’m ready for more projects. I hope you folks have enjoyed. And I’ve appreciated all your feedback.

I arrive home as soon as I get out of my truck I hear it.
“Speciaw fwen! Babbehs! HEWP smawty! Nee Nummies! Nee wahwah! Nee make poopies! Poopie pwace nu wowk!”
Well guess there’s no waiting for this one. I walk to my shed and open the door to see the smarty still right where I left him. Sprawled out and bolted down to my workbench.
“DUMBEH! DUMBEH make babbehs go fowevew sweepies! DUMBEH make smawty weggies and poopy pwaces nu work! Dummeh hooman wet smawty go and get sowwy hoofsies!”

Even restrained with no possible hope for escape this thing still spouts threats.
“Well shithead. I have a question. What do you like better? Your legs or your “Speciaw pwace”?”
He looks at me confused.
“Whah? Speciaw pwace ob couws dummeh hooman. Gib gud feews. An make Enfies fo babbehs!”
“Oh good. I guess I’m taking your legs first.”
I say as I take my hacksaw out of my tool box.

“Wai? NU! Need weggies for wunnin an pway! Nee weggies to fin Nummies fow smawty an Speciaw fwen.”
I grin.
“Oh she’ll have plenty of Nummies soon. All she wants in fact. But let’s not talk about her. This is about you shit head.”
I flick the blade of the saw in front of his already nervous eyes. I sit the saw beside the soon not to be stallion and light my coal stove.
“Need to let that get hot before we start. You know shit head this could have all been avoided if you would of just asked for help instead of being such a demanding little fuck.”
He starts bawling.
“Huuhuu. Smawty needed safe wawm housie fow babbehs.”
“So you decide the best way to accomplish this is to threaten the creature smarter and stronger than you? Then make little plans to take over his home after he took in your babies? Which by the way would have never worked. I would have just blown your head off. Considering you things get hurt on cotton it’d be neat to see what buckshot would do”

“Buh… Buh… Huuhuu! Smawty nu wike sweeping in poopie house! Huuhuu.”
I don’t why I was arguing. It’s not like this little bastard was smart enough to understand. So I decided to put in in his own terms.
“You not smawty. Me am smawty nao… An dis smawty wand.”
Feeling my stove finally reach temperature I stick my cast iron hot iron in to heat up.
I tear an old oil rag in 2 and wrap them around the top of shit heads front legs to make makeshift tourniquets.
“Nu! Nu! Me am smawty! You dumbeh! Nu wan weggie bands!”

I pick up my hacksaw and place the blade on his front left shoulder. I’ve butchered a few deer in my day. This shouldn’t be much different.
“Mistah pwease. No take weggie. Need weggie foh wunnin an Huggies.”
And with that I slowly move the blade forward before quickly yanking it back.
He keeps screaming as I continue to saw. Could I have used a sharp regular blade for this? Sure. But that’s less fun. Finally I feel flesh give way to bone as I continue to hack away. I can smell the blade as it heats up from friction.
It seems his voice is getting hoarse from the screaming.

Finally I’m through the first leg. It drops to the floor.
“Huuhuu! Weggie no dew no mow! Booboo juice eveweywer!”
With tongs I pull the iron from the fire and quickly push it onto the stump. The smell of burning meat fills the air with a loud sizzle.
One leg down.
“Buuhuuhuuhuu! Why take weggie? Need weggie.”
I wipe off my saw and stick the iron back in the fire.
“If I told you know it’d spoil the surprise.”
Sniffle nu wike supwisey. Wan weggie!”
I place the saw over his front right leg.
“We’re only half done shit head.”
I proceed to do the same with the other front leg. I cauterize the other stump.

“Alright. There we go. Oh yes it’ll be perfect.”
I put my saw up and grab my blowtorch.
“I must say shit head you’re an ugly stallion but you’ll make a lovely mare.”
I light my torch.
“Buh… Buh… Am nu mawe.”
I look at his pathetic ballsack.
“You will be after I burn your balls off.”
His eyes widen.
I bring my torch down to his scrotum. I know he can feel the heat. He pisses in fear. Probably would shit too if he wasn’t corked. Your water isn’t gonna put out this fire asshole. I turn up the acetylene and turn up the oxygen making a beam of pure heat. As I start through the side of his nuts he screams again but very little sound comes out. Must be screamed out. Sounded more like a tea kettle singing.

The skin and fat sizzles as I hear one of his nuts pop from heat pressure. Would it have been simpler to just snip them off? Yes. Would it be nearly as satisfying? Hell no. Finally I get all the way through. I pick up the charred sack in my gloves hand and walk around to the front of shit head.
“Huuhuuhuu… Speciaw wumps… Am Daddeh nu mow. Nu hab Speciaw fwen wif nu Speciaw wumps.”
I grab his jaw and put the sack in.
“Crispy bacon. Chew and swallow shithead.”
He shakes his head and lets out a muffled protest. I stick 2 fingers in his nose as I continue to hold his mouth shut. He finally swallows his own balls. Then vomits. I make him swallow that back down too.
I finally let go.

“There. Now was that so hard?”
He sobs.
“Speciaw wumps nu Nummies… Buhuuhuu.”
One thing left.
Without even an explanation I pull out my pocket knife and cut off his dick at the base.
I pull the cork out of his ass and before shit comes out I stick the bastards own dick in his rotten anus.
Sob sniffle poopy pwace …Speciaw pwace… Nu be Daddeh nu mow.”
I look at my work.
“Well. A little rough but I think I did a good job for my first DIY Enfie pal.”

I smile.
“Stallions have special lumps. And a special stick. You have neither. Hope you’ll like your new life as a mare.”
He continues his hysterics.
Oh the infamous wan die loop. Nah I need him to last a while. I reach into my tool box and grab a pair of wire cutters. I grab his tongue and with a few quick snips it’s out.
“Ooooh! Eee ouie!”
Ahh finally he shuts up. Now the hard part. Making sure the new Enfie pal’s wounds don’t get infected.

~1 week later~

I got the call this morning that lying whore was ready for pickup. When I get there the vet has her in the pet carrier pumped full of anesthetic. As she snores I can smell the shit on her breath.
As I drive home I can hear her wake up.
“H… Hewwo? Nuwsey? Doctow? Wittah paw nu wike dawk pwacey?.. Huuhuuhuu miss weggies.”
I smack the carrier.
“No nurses or doctors here lying whore. Or should I say. Shit eating whore.”
Realizing it’s me she goes quiet.

I get home and take her out of the carrier.
“Hm… This new look suits you.”
With the removal of her legs and tail all that sticks out of the patented litter pal crate is her head. I sit her in the litter box.
“…why? Why do dis to mawy? Why nu jus gib fowevew sweepies?”
I don’t respawn. I open the safe room door.
“Babies! Frosting! I have a new toy!”
The 3 babies and frosting run in.
Gasp ouw own wittah paw!”
Frosting says with glee.
The babies walk up and without having to be told shit right in front of litter pals face.
“Babbehs nu! Am mummah! Mummah wuv babbehs! Babbehs wuv mummah! Huuhuuhuu!”
The babies scoff.
“Dummeh wittah paw nu mummah”
“Ye mummah nu num poopies.”
“Nu eben smew wike mummah.”
Onion looks the litter pal in the eye and says.
“Besides. Owd mummah nu wike babbehs. Owd mumma go to sketti wand an nu take babbehs.”

That night after the babies and frosting went to sleep and several poopies were nummed I took litter pal out to my toolshed where she met her “Speciaw fwen”
Shit head looks up.
“Eeeuhh eeeh!”
The two cry.
“Oh you can spend the night in here together. You’re both going on a trip tomorrow.”
Litter pal looks at me.
“Pwease… Mawy sowwy. Speciaw fwen sowwy. Pwease wet go.”
I laugh hard.
“I think it’s long past the time of letting go. Now. You two get comfortable.”
I shut the door as they cry. I hear the huuhuu’s all the way to the house.

~The next day~

It’s my sister’s birthday so frosting, the babies, and I made the drive out to her place in town. Apparently my sister had found some good folk who’d give the trio good homes. Gotta admit I’ll miss the little guys but I knew it was coming.

I was right about the “poopy” foal. My sister had spoiled him rotten. She’d named him Hershey and had been feeding him well. He was now bigger than his siblings. I half expected bullying but I guess the new size difference was enough to deter his siblings taunts.

I stood there talking to my brother in law watching the Fluffies play.
“At first I wasn’t too keen on a fluffy in the house but honestly he’s not bad. It’s not boring with him running around that’s for sure.”
He takes a swig of beer.
I pipe up.
" Well as long as sis is happy. Honestly I’m just glad someone wanted the little bugger."
He gives me a strange look.
“Are you serious? The brown ones are rare. I half thought of trying to sell him when she brought him home.”
I’m a bit shocked.
“Rare? Really?”
He laughs.
“Yeah. Something about the parents normally killing or starving the brown ones to death. They’re almost completely eradicated from the gene pool. Atleast that’s what I read.”

After the cake and giving my sister her present. I surprised little Hershey.
“Hey buddy?”
He gallops up to me.
“I’ve got a present for you too.”
“Pwesent? Foh hewsheh?”
I sit down the two rather large boxes I brought in. My sister helps him rip them open.
She laughs and acts excited.
“Look Hershey. Your uncle brought you a litter pal AND your very own enfie pal!”
His eyes go wide.
“Enfie paw!?!”

Without needing to tell him twice the “poopeh babbeh” immediately starts going to town on his new Enfie pal. Everyone thinks it’s hilarious.
“Don’t you have something to say Hershey?”
He pulls out and runs over to me.
“Fankou owd daddeh! Hewsheh wuv Enfie paw!”

I went home that night feeling great. 1 that I managed to get all the babies good homes without sending them to a shelter and 2 that I sent those ingrates to their own personal hell. I went to bed that night with frosting curled up by my feet…

I hear a thud on the door. Not a knocking. More like something slapping against it. I grab my shotgun and creep to the door. I open it slightly and see… 2 more Fluffies. What looks to be a family except the mare has 1 very fat baby on its back.
“Dummeh hooman. Dis smawty wand nao! Wet us in wawm housie! Gib Nummies an sketti and toysies an mawe foh Enfies!”
I point my shotgun towards them and chamber a round.
“I’ll give you one chance… Leave.”

“Smawty nu fwaid of dummeh hooman. Gib sowwy poo-BANG
As soon as he turns around I fire letting loose 12 gauge buckshot into his backside. It completely disintegrates into a red cloud. His pathetic back legs are being held on by loose strands of what used to be muscle. He tries to crawl away. I quickly chamber another round and send it into his skull.
The overweight mare runs. I pump another shell and fire. Her hind legs immediately disappear.

The baby falls off and starts screaming.
I walk over and pick the baby up. The mother just lays there whining about her “weggies”
I figure why not save the baby.
“DUMMEH HOOMAN! You huwt mummah! Gib sowwy poopies!”
She shits on my shoes. Why am I not surprised?
I grab her with both hands and with one quick bend I snap her spine.
I drop her to the ground beside her mom.

I walk back inside. The coyotes will have them taken care of before morning. I can already hear them yelping telling the others they’ve found food.
I walk back into my room. Frosting is sitting up.
“Daddeh? Wah scawy noisey?”
“Nothing sweety. Go back back to bed and daddy will make us waffles in the morning.”
She lays back down.
“Can fwosing put sketti on hew waffie?”

Ya know I still don’t hate Fluffies. But I’ll be damned if I go through that again.
Fool me once? Shame on you. Fool me twice?.. I don’t think so.


Yeah, fuck those monsters. Even the “sweeter” ones in your story are sociopathic assholes.


Let’s hope Hersey doesn’t find out he’s fucking his dad. Although giving how he was treated, maybe he’d hurt his dad even more if he knew


What an interesting ending. The guy learns a valuable lesson, some fluffies aren’t worth helping and saving, but I think he wasted a shell on the new smarty. And the bitch mare and smart have very

Glad to see how things turned out. The bad parents of the first batch get their comeuppance, and the new smarty family becomes target practice. All is right.

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That night the Coyotes ate like kings.

Nothing to worry about there :face_with_raised_eyebrow:

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Despite being well behaved she is still a fluffy. If she wasn’t fixed she’d probably be gotten rid of too if the mc saw her mistreat a poopy babbeh.


Aai that in your world browns and muted colors are rare and rare? That is interesting, it gives for a different development in the fluffy mills, speaking of the story it is very sweet and nice with a good justice box, the subject loves fluffys and he learned his lesson

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I mean I figured where the mothers kill dark colored foals so much it would it make sense that the gene would become rarer and rarer due to the lack of brown Fluffies even reaching breeding age.

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