For the first time since his old mummah had abandoned him in the not-good shelter, Sugar was happy. In fact, he was so, so happy that he could barely hide it from the not-nice mister. Sugar was going to be a daddeh!
Plum had been his special friend even before they’d been abandoned, but for some reason they just couldn’t make tummeh-babbehs. Then they’d been separated, locked in different pens even though they’d asked so nicely for the not-nice mister to let them see each other. But he’d just said no, even when they’d begged and cried.
It was all because of the “rules,” dummeh rules that didn’t make any sense! Why weren’t they allowed to have special friends? Because “we don’t have room for more foals.” Which was silly, because babbehs were very small and only needed milkies! But when Sugar had tried to explain this, the not-nice mister had just sighed and ignored him.
Then, one night when the others in the pens were asleep, Sugar had managed to get over the wall, and finally he and Plum could be together! It was so nice to be able to hug each other after so long only being able to talk through the no-see wall. They’d spent the night together careful not to make any noisies that would wake the others, and then she’d helped him get back.
The next morning Plum had told him, very very quietly, that she had tummeh babbehs! This gave him the biggest happies ever, but he was a little scared too. Bad fluffies got the sorry box or the sorry stick, and they’d broken the rule, even if the rule was silly. The not-nice mister was going to be angry when he found out.
~
Clyde groaned internally when he noticed that one of the mares in the adult pens was pregnant. He didn’t bother to wonder how it had happened; fluffies occasionally found ways to get into other pens and he didn’t have the resources to do much about it. It didn’t matter anyway, at this point. Whatever he did, this mess was going to cause problems.
A realization struck. There was a way he could turn this to his advantage and punish the stupid pair at the same time. He hesitated, realizing that it would traumatize the pair.
The problem he was facing in this instance, he rationalized, was that the fluffies were simply oblivious to the consequences of their actions, because he was always there to protect them. If he was always there to shoulder the burden, none of them would see the rules as anything but arbitrary restrictions. But if the warning came from other fluffies…
~
Sugar and Plum trembled with nervousness. The not-nice mister had found out about the tummeh-babbehs, and although he hadn’t been as angry as they’d expected, he’s said they were very bad fluffies and had to be punished. But instead of the scary sorry-box or hurtie sorry-stick, he’d said they’d have to help him “work.” He said work was very, very hard, so they were scared, but it couldn’t be worse than the sorry-stick.
In fact, “work” was so much fun! They’d been taken into another safe room, a bright and colorful one, if smaller than either of the pens, and the not-nice mister had brought in babbehs! Lots and lots of babbehs, some talkie-babbehs, some chirpy-babbehs, and some that hadn’t even opened their seeing-places! The pair were ecstatic, getting to play with and care for babbehs all bright-time long, even if they were so, so tired by the end of the bright-time when not-nice mister came back.
He held a big, scary box, and they huddled together. Were they going to have to go into the sorry-box anyway, even after helping “work?” It was scary, but “work” was fun and not as hard as not-nice mister had said, so they understood if they needed to go into the sorry-box.
Then the not-nice mister asked a question that made no sense.
“What kind of babbehs find new mummahs or daddehs fastest?”
They thought about this, thought about which babbehs and fluffies had found new mummahs and daddehs while they were at the not-good shelter. Finally Plum blurted out “Pwetty babbehs!”
“Aww babbehs am pwetty,” Sugar noted, knowing that only bad fluffies said babbehs were ugly or poopie, and not-nice mister nodded.
“That’s right, pretty babbehs find new homes faster, so they don’t have to stay here as long and can be happier. You two want babbehs to be happy, right?”
They nodded.
Not-nice mister picked up four-and-one of the babbehs and set them down in front of the pair, asking Plum "Which of these babbehs is the prettiest?
She hesitated, not wanting to be a bad fluffy, but eventually decided that the pretty white wingie-babbeh that looked like Sugar was the prettiest.
Not-nice mister nodded, taking the other babbehs and putting them into the box. The pair protested, but he just said “They’ll only be in there a little while.”
The question was repeated with more babbehs, then again, then again, until only four babbehs were outside of the box. Not-nice mister picked up the box and started taking it away, but Sugar spoke up.
“Whewe am odda babbehs gu?”
Not-nice mister smiled a smile that wasn’t nice at all.
“Little babbehs grow up into big fluffies, and we only have room and nummies and nesties for four more big fluffies, so only those four little babbehs can stay.”
“Odda babbehs hab nyu housies?”
“No, of course not. They were here because there’s nowhere else to go. So now they have to go forever-sleepies,” not-nice mister said as he stepped out of the room, leaving the pair too stunned to respond.
After sitting there for a minute, Plum burst into tears, completely unable to understand why good little babbehs had to go forever sleepies. Sugar didn’t understand either, but he tried to remain strong and not let the tears show, hugging his special-friend and trying to comfort the babbehs. All dark-time long they stayed in the room, crying and begging not-nice mister to bring the little babbehs back.
~
Plum somehow fell asleep, waking up when the bright-time lights turned on. Her talkie-place hurt so much from all the crying and yelling, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as her heart. She hugged her special-friend and the four little babbehs.
Munstah mister came back, holding the box once more, and hope surged in her heart. Maybe this was the punishment! Maybe giving them the worst heart-hurties ever was what munstah mister wanted all along! She listened for chirping or chattering in the box, but there was only silence.
“Sorry,” munstah mister said. “I was being silly last night.”
“Meanie mistuh gib Sugah and speshow-fwend wowstest heawt-huwties ebah!” her special-friend accused.
“Gib wiw’ babbehs back nao?”
“What? Oh, that’s not what I meant. I forgot that you have tummeh-babbehs last night.”
What? Why did that matter?
“Jus’ gib babbehs back!” she demanded, not caring that it was bad.
“Listen,” he said, voice growing scary. “That decision you made yesterday is the decision I have to make every single week. Don’t act like this is my fault.”
He stomped over to the now-shaking pair, leaning close.
“Now, because you two decided it was time for tummeh-babbehs, despite me telling you over and over to wait, there isn’t even space for these four.”
He scooped up the four little babbehs they’d picked.
“Now they have to go forever-sleepies too, because of you. This is your fault.”
Plum felt like the entire world was falling apart, but munstah mister continued.
“Of course, if you let me take away your tummeh-babbehs, those four can stay. They’ll be with the nurse mares, so you two won’t see them until they’re big fluffies, but they can stay.”
“HU HUWT TUMMEH-BABBEHS!”
“Fine. Then these four die, because you two were selfish.”
~
“Bu’ Bessy wan’ babbehs!” one of the mares in the other pen complained.
“Plum, why don’t you explain why Bessy can’t have babbehs?”
Sugar watched as his special-friend lurched forward. She’d grown terribly emaciated after their babbehs were taken away because “babbehs don’t belong in the adult pen.” She’d been refusing to eat, hardly slept, and would barely even speak to him.
“Nu babbehs. Onwy bad mawe hab babbehs. Habin’ babbehs gibs babbehs fowebah-sweepies!”
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That’s actually pretty clever.
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Nearly too cerebral for the shit rats but it took in the end.