My name is Ray and I collect foals for Jackson County. As summer begins, my job becomes less about finding and more about collecting. It’s warm now, so fluffies have all started coming back out, and they forgot how to be safe.
I literally have a backpack. I wear it, ironically, on my front. I walk around finding fluffies and collecting their young in my chestpak, whacking adults who interfere with a nightstick.
Down in the bottom of the pack, a writhing peeping mass of foals await burial in their brethren. The sound can be heard in alleyways by hiding fluffies, and they come out to investigate. After all, babbehs are for huggies and wub.
“Hewwo nice mistuh, whewe babbehs? Spwinkwes heaw babbehs?” A pink and blue mare with short stubby legs is doing circles looking for the babbehs she hears. “Babbehs? Spwinkwes wiww sabe ou! Come tu Spwinkwes babbehs!” On her back were two bigger babbehs, on the upper range of what we consider a “foal.” They’re both about to sprout manes, and local regs require different equipment to collect “adults” so these two go in the bin.
I grab the yellow and green foals who begin yelling as soon as I wake them from their nap. "Hewp! Mummah! Munstah am twy taek babbeh! Hab tu sabe, wite nao!" The green one seemed demanding. The yellow one just cried and tried to hug my gloved hand. Not wanting to deal with the screaming and actual language big babbehs can use, I snap his neck with my thumb. His sister starts hugging even more frantically and openly weeping. She’s not talking, but I’d rather not risk it.
The mummah abandoned her search for my babbeh sack when she noticed her babbehs were gone. She returned to me just after I stowed greenies body. “Nice mistuh, babbehs missin! Oh, mistuh hab wingy babbeh?” I nod. “That’s right. But your green babbeh ran off.” She fell over herself in shock. “Nuuuu! Whewe gu!? Mummah hab tu find!” At this, a larger colt came out from behind the dumpster. Maybe the oldest babbeh?
The mummah looks at me, tears in her eyes. “Mummah hab tu gu sabe babbeh! Nice mistuh pwotec famwee whiwe mummah am gone?” She had a pleading expression and was nervously tapping from hoof to hoof. I’d shoved my thumb in the filly’s mouth in case she decided to take up public speaking.
“Yes. Your babbehs will be just as safe as if you were right here with them.” I’m an asshole, not a crook.
She bolted off, yelling after her dead babbeh. I wonder how long she’ll stay gone? I return to the alley. It’s time for my union mandated break, so I pop a squat on the loading bay stairs for the building forming one side of the alley and light a cigarette.
I take my thumb out of the filly’s mouth. She makes a sort of gagging/coughing noise and spits up quite a bit. She popped some blood vessels straining against me and was exhausted from the effort. Her brother trotted over to me, having smelled his sister. “Nyu fwend? Ou knu mummah?” I nod. “That’s right, your mummah is a friend of mine. She’s off to find your green brother.” He gasped. “Gweenie bwudda nu can find? Huuuhuhuhu wan bwudda back!” He plopped down on his haunches and held his head in his hooves, sobbing. Funny how they always say exactly what they’re thinking.
I fish his brother’s corpse out of the bag and throw it at him.
He is of course knocked over, he’s not the most stable target. When he gets up and has verified “Nu hab huwties fwum big faww! Wat wun into fwaffy?” He perks up as he smells his brother, but saddens as he sees his condition. He’s frozen, silently crying. I interrupt his quiet vigil by pinching his sister.
“Peeeep! Owwies! Nu gib pinchies tu babbeh, huwt babbeh pwetty fwuff!” He snaps back to reality and charges, so I lightly deflect him with my foot and he tumbles into some boxes. “You done?” I ask.
He staggers to his feet and starts whining. “Meanie! Nu huwt sissy! Wai gib bwudda fowebba sweepies?” I laugh. "Wrong question. You should be asking why I’m going to make you eat him." The babbeh recoiled in horror, the rage disappearing from his childish eyes. “W…wa? Nuuuuu…” He shrank back, fearing he may have underestimated his foe.
“That’s right,” I continued, “If you don’t eat him right now, I’m taking your sister away.” At this, I started pulling her tail, slowly pulling harder and harder as she screamed and begged. “Nuuuuu! Nu puww taiw! Taiw nu fow puwwies, ou gonna bweak pwetty taiw! Bwudda! Bwudda, sabe sissy fwum munstah!” I kept pulling and started feeling it jolt as each vertebrae in the tail started to pop apart.
“Huuuuuu nu wan num bwudda, wub bwudda! Nu make num bwudda!” I shook my head. “Sorry babbeh, looks like your big brother loves your green brother more than he loves you. Even though greenie brudda isn’t even alive anymore. Oh well, let’s go have fun!” I stand up and start to go when he stops me with a scream.
“Nu! Fwuffy du it! Nu take sissy!” I turn around and see him shaking as he tearfully consumes his brother. “Huuuhuhuhuuu am sowwy fow make bwudda intu nummie babbeh, meanie hoomin nu gib nu choicies!”
For five minutes he picked and tore. He even got it all down only to vomit again. I made him eat it a second time. The ordeal had weakened him. Perfect.
I took his sissy over to him and squatted down. I released her and she ran to give her brother hugs. As she did, and before he could react, I snatched him up and grabbed his right front leg.
“Nuuu! Nu faiw! Wet gu! Wet fwuffy gu!” His sister was paralyzed with fear and toppled over into a shivering heap. This kept her from noticing as I lined her brother’s hoof up with her and pressed down.
“Nuuuuu! Nu huwt sissy! Sissy, wun way! Hoomin make bwudda gib stompies! Wun way wite nao!” But it was too late. The first “stomp” for lack of a better name obliterated her brain. Dangling her now limp and sobbing brother in the air, I stood. Now he could see what was in my bag, and he thought he understood. “Huuuu otay hoomin, take babbeh tu get fowebba sweepies…” I chuckle. “Nope! You’re too old for me. I’ll leave you to explain why you did all this to your mummah.” He starts frantically stuttering. “Bu-bu-bu nu! Babbeh nu du dis, babbeh teww mummah!” I feign defeat. “Aw shoot, you’re right. You can just tell her. Oh well.” I took one last drag off my cigarette and then shove the lit butt to the back of his throat. I force it down to guarantee singed vocal cords. He won’t talk again for weeks, if ever. I drop the sputtering mess where I found him, in a dingy alleyway awaiting a future more full of heartbreak and pain than he can possibly imagine.
“Babbehs? Nice mistuh? Nu can find Gweenie huhuhuhuuuuuuu…”
“Babbeh? Big babbeh? Wai cwyin, big babbeh? Wan mummah huggies fow ma- BABBEH!”
“WAI HUWT WINGY BABBEH? WAI BIG BABBEH GIF WOWSTEST STOMPIES? HUUUHUHUHUHU OU KIWW OU OWNWY SISSY! WOWSTEST BABBEH EBBA! NU HAB NU BABBEHS! BIG BABBEH AM MUNSTAH HU KIWW WINGY BABBEH, AN GWEENIE BABBEH AM AWW AWONE!”
“DAS IT! Mummah gu find Gweenie babbeh! Onwy gud babbeh weft! OU GU WAY BIG BABBEH! Mummah…mummah nu can gib stompies. Stiww wub big babbeh…Big babbeh hafta weabe! If big babbeh stiww hewe wen mummah come back wif gweenie…wif…wif gween…”
“Big babbeh? Hab tummeh owies? Nee make sicky wawas?”
SPLORCH
“NUUUUUUUUUUUU! MUNSTAH! OU AM MUNSTAH! MUMMAH KIWW! MUMMAH KIWW! MUMMAH KIWW!”