Notes:
- This story is told from the perspective of the fluffy ponies, but I will still be writing it in proper English, only slipping into ‘fluffy-speak’ when they actually talk. Why? Because having to mentally translate fluffy-speak gives me a fucking headache, and if I have to write this entire story like that, then I’m blowing my fucking brains out this minute.
- I’m planning quite a few chapters for this and have a pretty clear outline on where the story is going, so expect more chapters soon enough. This one is only short, it’s more of a prologue than anything, but bear with me, it’ll get going very fast with the next chapter.
- I fucking hate ‘Smarty’ fluffies.
Chapter 1: It Begins
The rain in Backwater Ohio was worse than it had ever been before.
It had been like a monsoon, almost. For most of summer it had been dry as a bone, with lawns dying and people sweating everywhere, then out of nowhere, the heavens opened and rain came battering down in sheets, soaking the sidewalks and roads, and filling the gutters in a matter of seconds.
The people of Backwater were happy.
A feral fluffy pony herd, currently making it’s way through Backwater, were NOT.
They had been led to Backwater by their leader, a vibrant green smarty unicorn who went by ‘Smarty’. The others numbered nine adults (four stallions, five mares) for a total of ten, with a rough handful of foals spread between them.
Smarty had led them to Backwater by assuring them they would be safe there and have lots to eat… Smarty didn’t know why that was the case, but he KNEW the grass was always greener on the other side! So by default, Backwater MUST be better than anywhere else, because they weren’t there yet, and wherever they were was AWFUL!
But upon arriving in Backwater, things had gone from bad to worse. The intense heatwave had killed off any grass they could eat, nobody was out and about meaning there was little in the way of trash or dropped food, and the severe drought meant they struggled to even find water, never mind the amount of heat their fur-coated bodies soaked up every day. Several babies had died from dehydration and heat-stroke already, but Smarty had insisted they keep moving, leaving their dead foals behind in the street as they marched forwards.
Backwater WAS better than anywhere else they’d been, it HAD to be… they just hadn’t found anything yet to prove it, but Smarty knew it was the case! That was why he was the smarty!
Then the rain had begun.
The herd had been trudging their way down town, walking not-very-fast, when the grey clouds began beating them around their soft heads with heavy raindrops. At first they were grateful for the water to quench their thirst… but then it quickly became too much.
Before long, cries of ‘Nu!’ and ‘Wawas bad fow fwuffy!’ started up, as the herd began to panic. Their fur was getting waterlogged, the huge fat raindrops were hitting hard against their tiny heads, and several foals were even being knocked off of mama’s backs from the impacts.
Not only that, but they were out on the open road, which while devoid of life, was very quickly flooding. Inches of water had already begun to creep up around each of the fluffy pony’s stubby hooves, with the knocked-down foals already struggling to not be swept away in the deluge.
The herd couldn’t stay in the rain. But they couldn’t move anywhere either, there was nowhere to go.
“Smawty!” One of the herd, a mare, squeaked. “Wha we do?! Whewe we go?!”
“SHADDAP!” Smarty snapped. “Smawty finkin!”
In reality, Smarty was thinking about spaghetti, and how nice it tasted, and how badly he wanted some. But it was thinking nonetheless, and that’s what was important! That’s why he was a smarty, after all, he was actually able to THINK of things, unlike the other dummies in his herd!
But as for getting them out of danger… that was hard to think about! And not fun! You know what WAS fun to think about? Spaghetti! And so Smarty lapsed back into silent thoughs of spaghetti, while his herd panicked and waddled to and fro in the ever-deepening rainwater.
Suddenly, it happened. One of the foals lost it’s grip on the road, and was swept away by the water.
“BABBEH!” It’s mama screeched.
“Muh-” was as far as the baby got before it’s open mouth was filled with rainwater.
Then another foal was swept away, and another, and another. Within seconds, any foal that was on the road was picked up by the rushing water and carried away from the herd, viciously torn from their mothers by the cruelty of nature.
“SMAWTY!” The mama squealed, watching her babies sail away across the crashing water. “Babbehs gone! Wha do?!”
Ooh, spaghetti, it was so warm and tasty, and- huh?
Oh, the dummy mare had lost her dummy babies. Of course she had, she was a dummy. She was lucky she even knew how to SPELL ‘babies’! Which, of course the smarty could do, he was a smarty! …he couldn’t quite do it right now, but he could DEFINITELY spell ‘babies’! Definitely!
“Shaddup dummeh mawe! Smawty finkin!” He snapped, but had begun to notice how uncomfortable the cold rushing water was aroudn his belly. Hm, maybe standing in deep water was a bad idea… but that’s impossible, he was a smarty! He only ever had the BEST ideas! It’s why he was a smarty!
“SMAW-” The mare wailed before falling silent. She too was swept away by the rushing water, which was now fully covering most of the adult’s legs. Every pony was struggling to stay upright against the torrent of water battering their weak limbs, and it was making it harder and harder for them to grip the surface at all.
“Speshul fwie-” Her partner yelled, before he too was caught up by the vicious pull of the water. One by one, each pony, foal or adult alike, was pulled away by the water. The last to go was the smarty, who was still busying himself thinking of utterly worthless thoughts that he somehow convinced himself were important.
He had been mulling over a very complex thought about how nice spaghetti is, when suddenly he was flipped onto his back, his face buried in the water, then he spun around again onto his belly, spluttering and gasping and coughing. Then he rolled on his side and spun again, the water beating him from all sides as it washed him and the rest of his herd down the road.
The herd couldn’t stay upright, none of them had any idea where they were going, but a human observer could have seen it coming straight away.
The water was pouring down a wide open storm-drain, thundering into a sewage pipe. The black, gaping maw of the drain, the sort of thing you’d expect to see a clown from a horror movie waiting in, was readily sucking in the rainwater, and all it was bringing with it. Twigs, scraps of litter, gravel… and fluffy ponies.
The first one to go in was a foal. It saw the approaching black mouth of the drain and let out a shriek, before being swallowed up by the darkness. The foal felt itself falling down and down and down, then with a SPLASH landing hard in some water. The foal was stunned from the impact, but it wouldn’t have mattered either way. The drain was pitch black, and the foal could do nothing but try to stay afloat in the pouring river of rainwater.
The rest of the foals were next, having moved faster than the huge, waterlogged adults, and they too splashed and crashed into the drain one after another. Then the adults came, some going in face first, the others unaware of their fate until they saw the grey stormy daylight rapidly retreating from their vision, replaced with impenetrable darkness on all sides.
The last in was Smarty, who had thrashed and kicked and tantrumed his way through the water, furious at how it was daring to treat someone of his elevated brain power. But the water didn’t pay any attention to his spluttering or weak splashing, and only hurried him along to the drain. Upon seeing it, Smarty panicked, letting loose a torrent of liquid shit which immediately mixed with the water and soaked Smarty’s vibrant green fur a murky swampy brown.
All it served to do was make Smarty briefly uncomfortable before he too was swallowed by the ravenous jaws of the storm drain.