With their bellies stuffed full of grassies and miwkies, the herd slept deeply. It was nearly noon before the smarty woke up, peed on Daisy and her foals before displacing her filly and waking Daisy to tell her her daughter was to blame and waddling off to go laugh his ass off. To smarty, this was the peak of cleverness, subterfuge, and most especially humor.
To Daisy, her filly was foal, of an age well known for accidentally peeing on things. She gave both foals lickie-cleanies every day anyway, so cleaning up after the smarty’s ‘prank’ did not bother Daisy beyond wondering why her filly’s pee suddenly tasted like a smarty being a cunt.
The vroom-vroom munstas where noticeably loud and growing louder as the herd got underway. It wasn’t overly long before they started noticing the smells that humans associate with highways. Smarty was the first to spot the road, and he stared at it captivated.
So enthrolled was the smarty that he found himself stepping into a particularly ripe roadkill skunk.
“Sowwy smewwy fwen, smawty nu see yu dewe. Smawty am cawwed smawty ‘ca’ smawty am su smawty dat smawty am da smawty ob dis hewd.” Smarty said, verbally tugging himself off to the maggot-ridden bloated corpse.
When he didn’t receive a response after a more forceful hoof shove, he switched to the smarty special, horny rage.
“Dummeh smewwy dummeh, Smawty gon gib yu owwie enfies!” He shouted before climbing onto and slightly into the skunk, seeing as how no fewer than three of his steps punched clean through what was left of its rotting skin, before smarty’s hips got to work.
And so it came to pass that on google street view, there is an image of a fluffy raping an extremely dead skunk.
Legend has it that when the skunk failed to be impressed by Smarty’s efforts, Smarty treated it to a significantly more energetic encore performance.
While Smarty was busy using his dick to try to make the dead cum back to life, Daisy and her foals were having a lovely chat with meep-meep and her foals. Meep-meep had been accidentally named by the roadrunner before she ran off to have her tonsils checked from behind. Her three colts were in the inexorable grip of early puberty, and as such, upon noticing that Daisy’s filly probably had a vagina, they started competing for her ‘tention an’ wub, each seeking to impregnate what was very clearly an unweaned baby.
Fred, Bed, and Skeddi as they had been named by some teenagers who had proceeded to dissever and feed the colts each others testicles on the promise that doing so would turn the colts into the greatest lovers the world had ever known, proceeded to attempt to impress the little filly.
“Yu shud spen mow timies wi’ Fwed, Fwed ca git yu into da mostest ek-skwoo-sib pwaces!” Fred bragged before falling over after trying to look cool by leaning on a tree that wasn’t there.
“wike wha kinda pwace?” The filly asked him, almost touching noses with the now prone fluffy, who scrambled back to his feet.
“uh, wike dat pwetty puddwe obah dewe” Fred answered, pointing behind the filly, who gave it the briefest of glances.
“dat am poopies. Dat am babbeh poopies. Babbeh jus made dose poopies ‘fowe come hewe tu make tawkies wi’ yu. Babbeh am miwdwy impwessed dat yu managed tu show babbah da same owd poopies on da fiwst pwace wookies.”
Skeddi shoved Fred out of the way, interestingly enough, into a different pile of fresh poopies.
“Hey dewe widdwe cutie,” He said, somehow managing to do the double finger-gun gesture despite having neither fingers nor guns, and not knowing what either were.
“Nu” she told him plainly before looking behind him and calling “Who am nexties?”
Bed, however, did not answer, as Bed was dead as old Jed had just pumped his red head full of lead.