Jennifer went back to her desk, filling out the Post Mortem paperwork on the unicorn that had expired, Buttermilk’s words still echoing in her head. It had been almost a month since her owner abandoned her. No explanation had been given, just an old ratty box that had been partially taped up so Buttermilk couldn’t get loose. The young nurse had seen a great deal of horrors since her start at the Rehabilitation Center, foals too young to even scream that had been used as living ashtrays, their faces locked in a pained grimace. Scores of fluffies that were missing limbs were admitted each day, the dull witted creatures only further saddened when Jennifer had to remind them that their condition was permanent. Some of the blame on that fell to ignorant owners who foolishly believed that limbs could so easily be replaced, taking the term BioToy a bit too literally. When Jennifer thought she’d seen the height of terrors that could be inflicted on the helpless creatures, the bar was always somehow raised again and again. But despite how jaded she had become, it was Buttermilk and only Buttermilk that truly got under her skin each day.
Lost in thought as she double and triple checked the bureaucratic busy work she’d been laden with, Jennifer scarcely noticed as the front door to the clinic opening. The overwhelming odor of stale liquor stung her nostrils as The Doctor made his daily appearance, walking into the front office just after eight. He was an tall, older man, somewhere around his late forties, with black hair that had just began to gray at the edges. And while he was neither unsightly nor overly crass, Jennifer couldn’t stand to be around him. There was this air about him, as though the world owed him some unperceivable debt. Despite his constant inebriation, he carried himself as though he were of a much higher station, and he damn well expected others to treat him as such. Walking by her office, he simply nodded in her direction as he took off his jacket and replaced it with a lab coat off the rack. “Miss Reynolds…”
“…Good morning, Dr. Valentine. There’s a red tray for you waiting in the backroom. Extreme burns and trauma to his chest and genitals. He’ll likely require amputation before I can graft in a permanent fixture for a catheter…”
Pulling at his coat so that it was snugly over his looming frame, Dr. Valentine simply nodded again before making his way to the fluffy cages, his reaction no different than if she’d been commenting on the weather. Unlike Jennifer, who had once truly cared for the fluffies at the center, The Doctor was all but indifferent towards them. She didn’t know the full story, but bits and pieces had been passed around by her more gossip prone coworkers. The title was earned, as Dr. Valentine had indeed attended medical school, gotten his doctorate, the whole nine yards. But something had happened to him his first year as an attending. And while it was always different based on who you asked, the end result was the same. Binge drinking in secret while on hospital grounds. Hands that constantly shook from the DTs when he couldn’t sneak a nip or two. It wasn’t long after that he was fired, and was damn lucky that his medical license wasn’t taken from him, for what little that mattered. The damage to his reputation had been done, and he was unable to find work, save as a surgeon at the Rehabilitation Center. It was a far cry from where he had been, and the pay was abysmal, but it allowed him to keep his skills sharp, the fallen Doctor still hopeful that he might one day return to human patients.
By the time Jennifer had finished her paperwork, using the photocopier to make duplicates for city hall, Dr. Valentine was waiting for her in surgery. After donning a set of scrubs and washing up, she made her way into the small, makeshift operating room. The unfortunate orange earthie was already on the table, a small IV drip worked into his front hoof as The Doctor double checked that the fluff was reacting properly to the anesthesia. He was still awake, but in an extreme haze due to the Midazolam that was working it’s way through his small frame.
“Fw…fwuffy fee…feew tiwed…wan g…gu sweepies…bu’ n…nu can…”
They waited until the earthie was nearly comatose, his eyes fluttering as they glazed over. Valentine gave the orange stallion a few light taps with the blunt end of his scalpel before nodding to Jennifer. “We can begin. Lights, if you please, Miss Reynolds…” Jennifer reached for the overhead light and bent the flexible pole, shifting it to where The Doctor made his primary incision, a light cut just beneath the Preputial Orifice, where the stallion’s genitals would normally engorge and emerge. It was as badly burned as the rest of his privates, and the damage wouldn’t allow what remained of his member to retract. Despite being under, it was clear that the stallion could feel what was happening at least somewhat, shifting against his restraints even in his sleep with each cut. Once Valentine let the scalpel slice through the flesh of the orange fluff’s genitals, he traced a small outline with the instrument as he gestured to Jennifer when the blood began to flow freely from the incisions. “Suction please…and forceps…” After handing him the metal tongs she reached down for a small shop wetvac. It had been well sterilized and retooled for medical purposes, with Jennifer turning it on and letting the hose work around the wound, draining away the blood as The Doctor prepped the forceps in one hand and the scalpel in the other.
Using the tongs, Valentine gripped the congealed lump of flesh tightly as the earthie groaned lightly, pulling it taut as he let the blade sever what little tissue still held it firm before pulling the disembodied member free of the stallion. While Jennifer kept vacuuming the blood, The Doctor sutured the wound, humming slightly as he worked. While he was an egomaniac and narcissist for sure, even she had to admit that he was talented, watching as he effortlessly sealed up the wound. “Go ahead and fetch the catheter, Miss Reynolds…” Narrowing her eyes at the word fetch, Jennifer went and retrieved a plastic bag filled with small tubing, tearing it open as what little respect she had for the former surgeon drained away. She slid the tubing inside of the stallion, pressing it firmly into the fluff’s bladder, affixing the small plastic ring to the small hole until it was sealed, with Valentine grafting it in place. He took two fingers and lightly tugged on the catheter, making sure it was secure as the orange earthie winced with each pull. “Well placed, Miss Reynolds. Exemplary work, as always.” And with that, The Doctor took his gloves off and tossed them in the medical waste bin alongside the stallion’s genitals, likely off to nurse a bit of gin or rum in secret.
Jennifer cleaned and dried the blood from the orange stallion’s fluff before she took him from the operating room onto a yellow tray and back to the cages, with most of the fluffies still crying out as she passed by, save for Buttermilk who was quietly sitting in her pen. The stallion began to stir as she placed him in his cage, groaning as his hooves struggled to move, reaching towards his groin for what was no longer there.
Wewe…wewe am fwuffy’s nu-nu stick?
Jennifer sighed and took a moment before answering, her response cold and methodical. “It was too damaged to save. We had to remove it to save your life.” It went about as well as it could, with the stallion’s eye’s widening as he groped at the empty air where his genitals had once been, only able to slightly move due to the anesthesia but clearly in distress.
“Buh…buh fwuffy nee’ nu-nu stick…Wai taek nu-nu stick?! *huuu…huuu…huuu…fwuffy nu hab nu-nu stick… Nu am stawwion nu mowe…”
Jennifer was tempted to say more, to even repeat herself, or to console the traumatized stallion. But it was her experience that doing so tended to upset the fluffies even more due to their limited understanding, not to mention causing them to become attached to staff, who did not stay at the Fluffy Rehabilitation Center very long for obvious reasons. Many a biotoy had gone despondent due to a favorite human that was nice to them simply vanishing one day without a word or reason, with many of the fluffies taking it to heart and blaming themselves somehow. So the unofficial protocol was to speak to them only when required and to be as clear and direct as possible. Jennifer only sighed and left the room, still able to hear the orange stallion crying as she closed the door behind her.
Now that the paperwork on the dead unicorn was finally filed away, and the orange earthie was dealt with, it was time to inspect the rest of the drop off box. Jennifer returned to the cardboard box and placed it on the table as she donned a fresh pair of rubber gloves and placed a lining of wax paper down. She opened the box and took her first real look at the fluffies within now that there were no tasks or emergencies to manage. There was a purple earthie mare with a black mane and tail that was in fairly good condition. She was filthy but beyond that, she seemed unharmed physically despite the tearstains under her eyes. The mare simply looked up to Jennifer and said nothing , her eyes watering as though her heart had been broken. She gently lifted the purple earthie and placed her on the wax paper, instructing the mare to stay put. Jennifer grabbed a green tray and then scooped the mare with the wax paper, placing her on the tray and taking her to the backroom and finding her a cage among the other’s that wouldn’t need any exceptional care. Leaving the mare with a scoop of kibble and a shallow pan of water, Jennifer noted that she would need a bath on the tag that dangled from her pen before returning to the box. All that remained in the box were a pair of foals, no older than two weeks old. Their eyes were open as they peeped and chirped in a confused panic with one waddling circles around the other that seemed immobile. Both were a shade of blue with their manes and tails being green, with one being slightly darker than the other. They both looked up at her, and it was the lighter blue foal who spoke first.
Pwease taek babbehs homesies? Bwudah nee’ hewpsies!
P…P…Pwease gib howsie? B…B…Babbeh nu feew weggies!
Original Art by InfraredTurbine
Picking this up and gonna finish it with the next chapter.
Hilarious that I started it due to adopting those two ages ago from @infraredturbine .
