This story is inspired by some dumbass I knew who spent like $1500 renting a PS3
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Izzy, a pink and white mare stood beside two other fluffies. A blue and yellow unicorn stallion named Bolt and a soft purple filly named Kiki. They happened to be on a small wooden podium, one assigned to each, surrounded by a bunch of other junk. There were mattresses wrapped in plastic, knockoff televisions, junky looking refrigerators, game consoles. Things anyone would deem essential to their lives, whether they were or not.
This place was called Rental Central. It was where incredibly desperate people with a poor mind for money came and absolutey crushed any hopes they had for a good financial future. There was a paycheck advance place right next door and often theyâd hit that up and further an ever-deepening hole of debt, only to come here and blow it all on stuff they didnât need which had been jacked up to astronomically high prices.
Of the items, fluffies. Three at the moment though the stock was always refreshed and switched around. This was at a point in time where the biotoys were still relatively expensive and at the top of the list for every kid on Christmas. While they were on their open-air displays, they werenât allowed to speak to one another. If they had to make good poopies, they had to press a little button alerting a staff member. Making bad poopies was an incredibly poor idea. One only had to make that mistake a single time to learn their lesson. It was important to never leave physical marks on the merchandise but the staff had figured out that a cattle prod jolt to their no-nos or poopie places worked wonders.
âHewwo, Izzy am wub yew! Hab koopown!â They each had a stack of coupons next to them that they could pass out to prospective renters. The mare and filly were also instructed to do little dances when people passed by, but not Bolt. A customer had complained that seeing his no-no stick and speciaw wumps was offensive. He got to sit there looking miserable for most of the day.
All day every day this is how it would go. Only allowed to give out little sales pitches when people passed by, hoping they would get taken in. Most of their waking existence was a pre-tailored pitch. Thinking and acting for themselves was heavily forbidden. At night time, they were scooped down from their podiums and brought back to the stockroom. There they got put into tiny individual kennels with a littertray and the cheapest kibble available.
âHae dis! Bowt wan wun way! Hae mummahs! Hae daddehs!â The stallion shouted from his kennel. Kiki simply cried in hers, hugging against an old sales flyer that someone had given her. She used it as a stuffy-friend for lack of anything else. Foals had it the worst. Their minds were still so full of wonder and excitement that it was difficult to grasp that this was their situation.
âIzzy wub mummah! Am hab mummah! Mumma wiw hab Izzy!â She declared to Bolt, trying to refute his hate. Sure it was bad here. Being adopted was another thing. She thought back to her old home.
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It had been a trailer out on some back-country road. Falling down, the lawn too overgrown with grass and littered with old toys. She had been brought from the Rental Central and had a cute bow tied to the top of her head. Big mummah and big daddeh taught her a special song to run out and sing when they said so.
Her mummah, truest mummah, had been a little girl named Charlotte. On her eighth birthday, she didnât really expect much. Her parents tried their hardest but their hardest didnât allow for much beyond a roof and food. They knew all she ever wanted was a fluffy pony. The little girl cut out photos from gift catalogues, watched the fluffy ponies show Hasbio had put out, had a few dolls. There was nothing short of absolute shock on her face when her parents said âAlright, come on out!â when she was sitting in front of the lit candles on her birthday cake.
Izzy rushed out from her hiding spot in a cupboard, skittering up to the table with a click-clack of her hooves on the chintzy linoleum of the kitchen/dining room.
âHewwo! Happeh bifday tu yew, happeh bifday tu yew, yew am su bestest, Izzy wub wub WUB yew!â The mare had done her best dance while singing all of this and her new mummah squealed with excitement, getting down from the table and dragging her up in a big hug.
They were quick best friends since then. Izzy joined her for make-believe tea parties, when out to do the bestest of esplowinâ out in the jungle of a yard, played dress-up. Charlotte often confided to her too.
âIzzy, are you scared of anything?â She asked one day as they were tucked into bed. Charlotteâs bedroom was little more than a closet and kind of messy but it was more than comfortable for a fluffy.
âIzzy scawed obâŚdawk-timesâŚwawaâŚmeanies.â Just things pretty much any fluffy was scared of.
Charlotte gave her a hug. âIâm scared of making new friends. Iâm worried everyone will laugh at me.â The fluffy gave a giggle.
âBut mummah am bestest!â Licking mummahs cheek, causing her to giggle too.
âThanks for being my friend, Izzy. Youâre not just a toy, OK? Youâre really for real!â
The fluffy had never given that much thought. It was a strange thing to hear. It was sleepytime though so she kicked her hooves out and got comfortable.
Things had a quick way of spiraling though. The good always had to come to an end. Lately, big mummah and daddeh always argued. They yelled about everything. Dishes would be broken, doors would be slammed. Big mummah always said daddeh spent all the money on stinky wawa. It made him mean and sometimes he didnât even come home for a long time. During these times Charlotte would pull Izzy onto her lap and run a brush through her tail and mane. The fighting made the fluffy shiver with scaredies, but having mummah there comforted her.
One morning daddeh came into their shared bedroom when both were sleeping. He tried to take the fluffy out from his daughterâs arms, a gentle tug at first though sheâd been hugging her as they slept.
âMummah! Hewp! Munstah!â Izzy said in confusion, flailing her legs as she was attempted to be taken away. Charlotte immediately woke up and tightened her grip, looking up at her father.
âLet go, Charlotte. Izzyâs goinâ back. We got bills to pay. Itâs either her or you donât eat.â Her daddeh said, getting a better hold on the fluffy. The girl refused to let go though.
âNo! NO! Sheâs my best friend! I donât want to eat then! Me and Izzy will just eat grass! LET GO, DAD!â The girl began to cry, the man simply peeling off her fingers with his free hand and tucking the fluffy under one arm. Turning, he went to leave the floor. Charlotte tried to get out after her but big mummah was right there after he had exited. Big mummah hugged Charlotte as she screamed and cried. Izzy looked back to her with a continued state of confusion and mounting fear.
âMummah! Pwease! Izzy wub yew! Nu wan weab! WUB YEW! Su sowwy!â It didnât matter though because daddeh had gotten her out of the trailer and thrown her into the passenger seat of his old beat up truck. It was right back to the Rental Central for her. Right back on the podium to advertise herself.
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âYew mummah dun wub yew! Daddehs ân mummahs nu wub fwuffies! Dey am badsies!â Bolt thrust his head against the kennel bars and growled a bit.
âMummah Chawotte am hab Izzy. She am bestest ân wiw!â The mare told him, flopping down in her kennel. By this point, Kiki had regressed from crying to peeping and cheeping.
âShuâup, babbeh! Stoopi babbeh! Bowt gib yew WOWSTEST HUWTIES!â The stallion screeched at her, which only made the peeps turn terrified and more rapid. Izzy got as comfortable as she could. This would only continue on tomorrow.
