Author’s note: Well FUCK if I ain’t been away from here for a while. This is just a little something I did spur of the moment…It probably sucks more dick than Oliva Munn trying to get a movie role, but I felt like doing it, so here you are.
Apologies if I’m fucking rusty at this and it does, in fact, constitute the cancer that is killing FC. I hope to be a bit more active, do more stuff. Hope to see you lot more often. And I hope you like this shitty little one-off story of Fluffies getting absolutely destroyed.
Pointless act of Cruelty, By Solidus
The herd sat cheerfully in the field of soft, green grass. The soft breeze kept the mosquitoes, unusually aggressive this year, from being too much of a problem. A pregnant mare, fat and immobile, trilled out a mummah song as she munched on clover. The Herd’s smarty, a bright yellow Unicorn, stood tall, and looked out over the field.
“Dis am gud wand, hewd. Fwuffies maybe make nesties hewe…” He said aloud, prompting happy cheers from the other fluffies.
Out of sight, two human men stood, watching them.
“Dude, I’m telling you, there’s NO WAY you’re gonna hit them from this distance with that fucking thing.” The first man, a short, muscular fellow with thinning hair said.
The other man, taller, thinner, and with glasses, scoffed. “You say that, but I’m gonna.” He replied, unwrapping the shepherd’s sling from around his wrist, and pulling a smooth, rounded stone the size of a golf ball from his pocket.
“Tell you what, let’s make this interesting.” The first man said. “50 bucks if you can dome the yellow one.”
“Easy money.”
The yellow smarty cocked his head. He thought he heard something, a distant cracking sound, like a twig snapping. Then a faint, low-pitched buzzing.
There was a loud THUMP, and a wet, sickening crunch as a stone collided with the side of his head. He fell, blood pouring from his skull, one eyeball crushed in it’s socket, the stone having transversed his brain.
“S-Smawty…” One of the Toughies asked, a big, blue earthie. “Smawty, why am 'ou waying down?” He approached. He saw the blood. “SCREEEE!! SMAWTY AM FOWEVA SWEEPIES!!!” He shrieked. The herd froze. Smarty was dead? But…Smarty couldn’t be dead. If he was dead, then…Who would tell them what to do?
Who would keep them safe? Who would tell them when to run from danger?
Another stone flew in, and struck one of the other Toughies, a grey Unicorn, directly in the chest. There was a cracking sound, his stern split in two vertically, ribs broke off and were driven into his lungs. His heart was bruised, smashed from a healthy red to a deep, wounded purple.
His hooves went to his ruined chest.
“Ghaack…Haaaa…Ack!” He wheezed, trying to form words, to beg for help, for huggies, for his long-dead mummah. He couldn’t speak. Blood ran from his mouth, and choking spasming, in utter agony from the splintered bones, he slowly died.
“Holy shit…”
“Cough it up, Nick.”
The shorter man reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, and wordlessly handed over the 50.
“Bet I can hit the pregnant one.”
“Yeah I’d bet you could. How the fuck do you use that thing? Like how do you time that?”
“I don’t, I just throw. It’s like pitching a baseball.”
“HEWD, WE NEED TO GO NOW!!!” The blue toughie shrieked, trying to rouse them from their stunned horror. “WOCKIES IS GIVING FOWEVA SWEEPIES!”
That finally seemed to do it. The fluffies, in a panic began to waddle. The toughie started to push the immobile dam. “No wowwies Soon-Mummah, Toughie-Fwiend won’t wet wockies give huwties!” He said, trying to put on a brave face.
In truth, he was horrified. Rocks didn’t move, they certainly didn’t fly into fluffies and give them forever sleepies. How was this happening?
Several more stones flew in.
A foal, a plump, purple chirpie, was taken off it’s mother’s back, torn open by the rock. “PEEEEEEEEP!” It squealed as it struck, then, silence. “BABBEH!!!” She shrieked, running to the corpse. It’s belly was split, it’s eyes wide, staring, shit and blood ran out it’s mouth, the foal’s entire digestive tract pulped and forced out by the immense impact.
The next rock struck her in the neck. She fell, twitching, foaming at the mouth.
Another one, A green stallion with an orange mane, took a stone to the center of the back. His spine shattered, fragments of bone driving into nerve and muscle. A piece cut into his heart. He fell. “No can feew weggies…Wowstest huwties in backsies…” He whimpered, trying to drag himself forward. He slowly weakened, shaking, and then, finally, died.
The Pregnant dam was screaming and crying, terrified as the toughie rolled her.
She saw her special friend, a handsome Orange Stallion with a black mane. He was running toward her. The Toughie knew this Stallion well, he was a good friend, a beloved member of the herd, probably next in line for Smarty.
A rock flew in.
It struck him directly in the snout, teeth and blood went everywhere, his jaw shattered, his head snapped back with a pop. He fell.
“SPECIAW FWIEND, NUUUUUU!!!” She screamed, horrified. He wasn’t dead. He was looking at her, his face mangled, snout smashed in by the rock, choking on his own blood. He tried to say something. All that came out were wet, clicking sounds.
“You gonna hit the pregnant one or…?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, just getting in some practice. It’s fun.”
“Fair enough, wish I’d brought my .22, make a day of this.”
“You see the foal when I hit it? Thing went FLYING!”
“Hard to miss it! That thing looked like it had a rocket engine up it’s ass!”
They two men laughed, and the slinger loaded another stone.
“Time for the big blue one, and then…Planned Parenthood.” He said with a grin.
“Nu wowwies…Nu wowwies…” the toughie repeated to himself as much as to the sobbing dam. “Wiww come back fow him…He just huwties, not foweva sweepies…” He said.
He knew damn well that wasn’t happening. The stallion would be dead in minutes from that wound. Stones fell thick and fast, every member of the heard was struck one by one. Babies were smashed to pulp, or ripped open, some torn in half. Fluffies were sometimes crippled, spines broken, legs split, necks snapped. Then, the stones would return to them later, and strike again, finish the job.
He saw strong stallions try to shield their special friends, only for a stone to cave in their skull, or hit them in the ribs, leaving them coughing blood and twitching as they died. The worst deaths were belly hits, shit and blood would spray from the mouth and anus, and then fluffy would peep and whine pitifully as it died.
A sharp, horrible pain exploded in his pelvis. There was a snapping sound from inside of him, and he fell. “SCREEEEEEE! WOWSTET HUWTIES!!!” He wailed. The stone had broken the pelvic girdle. He was going nowhere.
“TOUGHIE FWIEND! PWEASE! NEED TO SAVE TUMMEH BABBEHS!” The dam begged, not understanding what had just happened. He tried to stand.
“SCREEEEEE!!! No can…No can standies! Wowstest huwties! Weggies no wisten!” He sobbed, peeping like a newborn.
And then, as he looked at the pregnant dam, his friend, his herd mate, the special friend of his fallen brother in all but blood…
A stone the size of an egg buzzed in, and struck her in the belly.
Time stood still.
And the dam screamed.
“NUUUUUUUUUU! TUMMEH HUWTIES BAD FOW TUMMEH BABBEHS!!! NO FEEW TUMMEH BABBEHS NO MOW!!!” She wailed in distress. Then, she began to spasm. “BIGGEST POOPIES!!!”
Blood. Blood and chunks of broken, splintered baby fluffies poured out of her, thick and syrupy. The remains of 6 foals, otherwise beautiful and perfect, slid from her. The toughie, watching in horror, could do nothing but stare.
“SOON-MUMMAH AM MUMMAH NO MOW!!! Huhuhuuuuuuu!” She began to cry and sob, trying to turn, to look at her dead, obliterated young. Blood and shit ran from her mouth, and down her rear end. She was dying already, a horrible, painful death, her organs ruptured and crushed to paste.
It took almost 3 minutes for her to die. She peeped and begged him for huggies. Huggies he couldn’t give. He couldn’t move to help her.
The toughie stared. His herd. Gone.
His Smarty, the best, fairest, and most caring of them, dead, his skull smashed.
The mares, the pretty mares he’d loved to flirt with, broken and peeping, then a heavy stone would fly in, and they would go silent and limp.
The other toughie, strong and brave, had his sternum cracked apart, and had died gasping and choking.
The Smarty-To-Be had his face smashed, teeth flung down his throat, and had lived just long enough to see his foals spray from their dying mother.
The other brave stallions, they’d been picked apart bit by bit, broken, crippled, left weeping and crying for their mothers, before rocks had smashed their heads or chests.
And then…The Dam.
He’d tried to hard to save her and the foals. He’d gotten her far, by fluffy standards, a full 3 yards.
And then the rock had shattered his pelvis, and he’d seen her hit in the belly.
Footsteps. Footsteps came from the side.
“Wow. Look at that.” A human’s voice said.
“Hooman…Nice Mistew…Pwease…Hewp Fwuffy…” He begged.
The human simply bent down, and began picking up the stones that weren’t stained with shit. “Oh, you’re still alive? Hm.” The slinger said, looking at the fluffy disinterestedly. “Well, whatever. 99% ain’t bad.”
“Pwease…”
The slinger finished collecting the stones, and walked over to the crippled fluffy, squatting down. “Like what? You’re fucking done, buddy. I broke your pelvis with that rock. You’re wrecked. Best I could do is finish you off.”
The toughie’s eyes widened. “You…You…Bwoke fwuffy? You…You am Wockies thwower?” He stammered.
“Good for you, you’re catching on.” The slinger drawled, standing back up. “Well, have a nice evening, won’t you?” He said, turning to walk away.
“Wait…Why you do this…Hewd did nothing wong…Wewe gud fwuffies…” he pleaded, desperate to understand.
The slinger stopped and pondered for a moment.
“It was just something to do. No real reason, just…Because you were there.”
And with that, he turned, and walked away.
The toughie lay there, in agony. The human had done this…For no reason at all.
He closed his eyes. The horror of it all, the deaths of his friends, the killing of foals, of a soon-mummah. Crippling him and leaving him to die. It had been done for no reason whatsoever.
“Wan die. Wan die. Wan die. Wan die.”
He waited for a stone that would never come.
END.
