With Linlin taking care of her foals, Sam took the time to check his trap in the shed once again. Exiting out the rear sliding door and approaching the shed, he could see the red blinking LED over the doorframe that signaled the trap was occupied.
Removing and pocketing the lock as he entered the shed, Scott was greeted by a Lucky Point colored fluffy with an Equator mane hanging awkwardly from 3 of the 4 ropes, his front left limb hung dislocated and limp as the emaciated bio-toy fought to free itself.
âHuuu. Bewamy hab wowsest weggie hurties an no can mobe weggie no moa. Wai weggie so mean?â. Clapping his hands together, Sam got the captives attention with a loud fart and 3 quiet plops into the bin. "âYou came onto my âlandâ to steal my ânummiesâ, is this true?â The stallion began tugging at the restraints in ernest, his vocalizations increasing in pitch and volume as his proximity to a âmeanie hoominâ sent Belamy into a frenzy to free himself.
âIt is going to be the âcold timesâ soon, and nummies are hard to find. Stealing someone elseâs nummies might even deserve âforever sleepiesâ, wouldnât you say?â Scott approached and attempted to cover Belamys muzzle to make him quiet down when the fluffy began snapping wildly in all directions he could reach, nearing the breaking point of the fluffies small mind.
âBewamy nu go foweba sweepies. Bewamy run foreber and eber and so many jumpies to get away from meanie smarty n toughies!!! Bewamy wun fowebea befo EBA GET HURTIES AGAIN!!â
With a final thashing SCREEEEE! for emphasis the fluffy finally fell limp in the restaints, allowing Sam to put a supporting hand under his bulk before cutting free the counterweight. Lowering Bellamy onto the table, he wordlessly pushed the fluffy over on its back and pinned it with 3 fingers, his other hand resetting the dislocated joint with a practiced hand before letting go.
Bellamy flopped around on the table for a solid 30 seconds screaming and shitting before realizing he could again move the digit.gasp âTankies fo fixin weggie mistah!â the stallions tail swished back and forth excitedly, perhaps he was wrong about hoomans after all.
âfluffy, you said that you run fast to get away from bad fluffies?â Sam began digging in a cardboard box under the table to his left as he spoke. âhuuuâŚyus. Bewamy wun fwom meanie smawty and toghies so nu get foweba sweepies. Bewamy nu mean tu gib lil babies foweba sweepies with Bewamys huggiesâ
Sam froze mid motion as it clicked what he had just said. âBellamy, what kind of huggies were you giving those babies?â. With an audible gulp, Bellamy began backing away from Sam as he tried to explain âBuh Bewamy hab wowstest wump huwties and ne-SCREEEEâ
In a flash, Sam had the shitrat pinned to the workbench. Tightening leather straps to Bellamys two back hooves as well as around his waist, upon stepping back the full contraption was revealed,
Two pullback motors converted the motion of the rear legs into a ratcheting toy motor located above the tail, leading down from the frame, steering clear of the tail and poopie place was a small wheel covered in miniature paddles.
Picking up Bellamy by the scruff, Scott carried him back outside and up to the edge of the woods before setting him down and giving him a kick to the rear. âGo on, git outta hereâ. Hardly believing his luck, Bellamy began running full tilt towards the safety of the trees as Sam watched.
After a good 10 seconds (and 3 feet traveled) the motor built enough power to start spinning the paddle-wheel. Delivering a non-stop slow speed paddling to his special-lumps. With a jump, a wet fart, and a long trailing scream Bellamy tore off into the trees, his increasing waddle only making the engine work faster.
