Note:
I had to slightly break my promise on this, as I actually had something written in this chapter that I’ve ultimately decided against, and therefore removed. I said in a comment in chapter 2 that at least one tragedy happened every chapter. This is not the case with chapter 3, because something did happen here, but I ended up taking it out and using it for chapter 6 instead. To make up for it, I’m posting chapters 3 and 4 together like I did with 1 and 2, since I feel bad about uploading these short chapters that are ultimately lacking in any really meaty (ha, ‘meaty’) content.
Chapter 3: The Gnawing Hunger
The herd morosely made their way through the stinking, damp tunnels of the sewer, leaving behind two of their party (one mentally broken, the other drowned in feces). Smarty continued to lead them, more adamant than EVER that he was the best leader anyone had ever seen.
But the rumbley in his tummy made him worry. He was REALLY hungry, and lots of his herd were too. It had been hard enough finding food in the ‘up above’, but at least there was grass, and sometimes dropped snacks from dummy humans, but down here? In this dark, wet, ugly place, full of horrible smells, scary noises and darkness? There was nothing! Not even a single dummy human to threaten!
Then, as Smarty turned a corner, he halted and darted back around, colliding with the rest of his herd.
“Wha’?!”
“HEWP!”
“Owies!”
“NU WAN! NU WAN!”
The herd began babbling and crying out in fear.
“SHADDUP! BE QUIEWT!” Smarty shouted loud enough to carry his voices for miles in the empty tunnels. “Dewe a munstah wound dewe!” Smarty hissed. The others immediately began babbling again.
“M-m-munstah?!”
“Nu wan munstah!”
“Babbehs nu sabe fwom munstah! Onwy widdwe babbehs!”
“Hu-hu-hu!”
Smarty huffed. This dummy herd was starting to annoy him!
“SHADDUP DUMMEHS!” He yelled again, ensuring that anything alive nearby would absolutely have heard him, as opposed to the quiet mewls of the timid herd. “Hewe da pwan! We gonna kiww da munstah!”
The herd look at him, confused.
“Buh… buh munstahs awe scawy!” One of the foals whined, hiding behind it’s hooves. If Smarty had a human vocabulary, he would’ve called it a ‘pussy’.
“Shaddup dummeh scawedy babbeh! Munstah easy to kiww! Smawty kiww munstahs aww da time!” He lied. At least, he was sure he had killed monsters before… that is to say, day-dreams counted, right?
“Smawty kiww munstahs?!” The cry spread through the panicked herd, who quickly mutated the words in passing between them.
“Smawty gonna kiww da munstah!” They began whisper-chanting. “Best Smawty! Smawty kiww da munstah! Best Smawty!”
Smarty paused. He hadn’t expected this. He’d expected the HERD to kill the monster, while he sat safely behind the corner, covering his eyes and hoping no monsters found him while his herd were taking care of it.
But… what was he so afraid of?! It was only a monster! Monsters were nothing! Sure, they had big teeth and claws and scary voices, but what was that against a fully loaded bout of POOPIES?!
“Yeaw!” Smarty declared, with moronic optimism and misguided confidence. “Smawty gonna kiww da munstah!”
The herd chirped and peeped and squeaked in delight, as Smawty trotted around the corner again… after which point the rest of the herd promptly covered their eyes in terror, lest a monster come to get them while Smarty was taking care of it.
Smarty waddled up to the monster, and looked it over. It was a big thing, with four legs, white skin covered in big black spots. Smarty had seen monsters just like it while out in ‘the up-above’, they were big and fast and said ‘BARK BARK BARK’, and they hurt fluffies a lot!
Smarty puffed up his cheeks and toddled forwards, readying himself for the battle… and began by jabbing his stubby little horn into the monster’s exposed pink belly.
“Take DAT, munstah!” Smarty yelled, but the monster didn’t react. Did Smarty already kill it? He must have done! But… he saw no booboo juice coming out of the monster. He tried again, prodding it with his horn, but still nothing happened. One last time, Smarty launched himself with all his force, jumping up in the air and spearing down with his horn… only to bounce off the monster’s belly and tumble over the ground.
Smarty, being the genius he was, mistook this for an attack.
“HEWP! HEWP SMAWTY!” He cried. “MUNSTAH HUWT SMAWTY! HEWP!”
With no other option, and with his rear already pointing towards the monster, Smarty let loose a torrent of liquid shit (mostly out of blind fear than actual aggression), getting some on the monster but mostly just hitting the floor and coating Smarty’s rear in filth.
Smarty caught his breath, and realised he wasn’t dead! The monster hadn’t hurt him after all!
He picked himsefl up, disgusted by the stink of the poopies (what idiot did that anyway?!) and looked. The monster was lying right where it was… but it still wasn’t moving. It was strange. It looked like it was sleeping, but nothing Smarty had done had woken it up.
Smarty gasped.
That meant…
“FOWEVEW SWEEPIES!” Smarty squeaked, prancing on his stubby hooves. He’d done it! He’d killed the big spotty monster! All by himself! His dummy herd hadn’t helped at all! Of course, he hadn’t NEEDED them to anyway! Smarty was the bestest at monster fighting! Everyone knew that!
“DUMMEH HEWD!” He snapped. “MUNSTAH HAF FOWEVEW SWEEPIES!”
He saw a few eyes peer around the corner, but otherwise nobody approached. Smarty huffed again.
“DUMMEH HEWD, GET OBAH HEWE OWE ELSE SMAWTY GIB YOU AWW FOWEVEW SWEEPIES TOO!”
That got them moving! The herd rushed up to Smarty, recoiling momentarily after smelling the mess of liquid shit left near the monster’s body, but soon they were all there, even Limpy bringing up the rear like usual.
They began babbling and chirping, looking at the spotty monster’s dead body.
“Smawty kiww munstah?!”
“Smawty best smawty!”
“Buh whewe nummies?”
This last question stopped everything. They were all still VERY hungry.
But then, for the first time in his entire life, Smarty got a legitimately good idea.
He had seen monsters eat fluffies before (hell, he’d seen his own mama get eaten by one when he was just a newborn foal, dummy mama), and fluffies were full of meat that the monsters liked to eat…
“We eat da munstah!” Smarty declared.
One by one the adult ponies approached the monster, nervously checking it was definitely sleeping forever, and then began gnawing and nibbling at it’s fuzzy skin. Fortunately the spotty monster had been dead for some time, and had been washed into the sewer a little while ago, meaning it had already gotten soft since then.
Slowly, but surely, their blunt little teeth had enough grip to start tearing at the skin, revealing the warm, lean meat beneath, and one by one, the fluffies grimly ate the monster’s flesh, chewing up mouthfuls of cold, gritty protein, swallowing it down with tears in their eyes. Even Smarty found it hard to enjoy such a gristly, stringy meal, but food was food after all!
All through the herd, the complaints were audible.
“Wooks wike sketties, tastes wike poopies…”
“Huhuhu…”
“Ow! Teefies huwty!”
But finally the adults had each had their fill of the monster’s corpse, and the mamas had enough food in their bellies to produce milk for their babies again. By the end of the night, everybody was full, and an impromptu fluff-pile was formed in the middle of the room, far from the monster’s corpse, but close enough in case they needed any more food at any point (although they hoped they wouldn’t).
Smarty forced his way into the middle of the pile, where it was cosiest, kicking over some foals as he went (but they were in his way, they should’ve known to move), while Limpy was settled on the outside of the pile, his wounded leg kept away from the shifting bulk of fluffies.
He glanced at it. His leg still hurt a LOT, but it was starting to smell a little funny, and it was going a darker colour. Limpy could only hope that meant it was getting better… but he wasn’t very sure, and something told him that being in the sewer for so long was only making it worse…