Josephine grimaced as she stared out her kitchen window facing the backyard. For the last couple days her garden had been being ravaged by a small family of ferals who had taken refuge in a burrow underneath a large oak tree. Every morning they would come out and steal away her flowers and plants.
Initially, she had tried calling an exterminator, but she lived so far out in the country that no one was interested. Next, she tried planting poisonous flowers like nightshade and wolfsbane, but somehow, the fluffies knew not to eat them.
Eventually, her patience had run out, and she accepted that she was going to have to get her hands dirty. She purchased a cheap single-shot 20-gauge shotgun from a pawnshop as well as a box full of shells for it, having noticed a significant detail about the tree: it had a beehive.
The nest was hanging from a branch above the exit of the vermin’s den, the hive large and full of angry African killer bees. They seemed docile enough for the fluffies who had dug out their shitty little hole underneath them, but Josephine knew that when provoked, the bees would stop at nothing to kill whatever poor thing was close to them, including her uninvited fuzzy neighbors.
Making sure that the fluffies were inside their den, Josephine snuck out and grabbed her garden hose, unscrewing the nozzle as she approached the tree. She felt her heart pounding as she got near the tree, the buzzing of hundreds if not thousands of killer bees above her filling her with fear, but she stayed calm and tried her best not to prove them.
Crouching down, she slowly slid her hose into the den, the fluffies inside reacting to the rubber tube.
“New fwend?”
“Stay back babbehs, mummah nu know if dis am munsta!”
“Nu wowwy speshuw fwend, daddeh wiww pwotect ‘ou an’ babbehs!”
“Fank 'ou daddeh!"
“Nu wike new fwend, wooks wike munsta! Hu-hu-hu…”
Josephine retreated from the tree and made her way to the faucet, which she turned on, waiting for a moment to watch the water begin to make its way through the hose, before retreating back inside and retrieving her 20-gauge, which she had pre-loaded with birdshot.
She stepped outside with it and cocked the hammer back, waiting patiently as the fluffies emerged from their den, completely soaked and covered in mud.
“Nu spway wawa fwend! Wawa am bad fo’ babbehs an’ mummah an’ daddeh an’ nesties!” The mare cried out, her purple fuzz now soaked and sticking to her. Her babies were riding on top of her, the three foal letting out tears and complaints about the water, while the stallion tried to stomp the hose to death.
Josephine raised the shotgun and aimed for the top of the beehive, releasing a burst of birdshot that severed the top and caused the hive to fall down next to the fluffy family. The mare hit the ground at the sound, trying to hide away while covering her eyes. Meanwhile, the stallion, who was the closest to the hive, had barely enough time to even look up before a swarm of pissed-off insects descended upon him.
Josephine quickly retreated back inside her home and shut the door as the stallion thrashed and kicked, screaming non-coherent sentences. He screamed and begged and kicked and rolled, but nothing was enough to get the bees to leave him alone.
Meanwhile the mare had smartened up to what was happening, and attempted to stand back up, but her sluggish speed of doing so meant that the bees noticed her and her foals too. Soon they began to sting her and her offspring with just as much ferocity as they were her mate, and she let out a blood-curdling scream.
“NUUUUUU! MEANIE FWYIN’ MUNSTAHS GIB BESTEST MUMMAH WOWSTES’ BUWNIE STINGY HUWTIES! SCREEEEEE!” The mare squealed loud enough that Josephine could hear it through her ringing ears.
Somehow the mare managed to stand up with her three offspring still on her back, and began to run towards Jospehines house, leaving her now motionless mate behind. She reached the back door and began to furiously bang her head into it, begging for the human inside to let her in, all the while her foals writhed in pure agony ontop of her, Josephine able to see the swarm of insects crawling all over their small bodies
“WET MUMMAH IN NICE WADY! MUMMAH BE GUD FWUFFY! PWEASE HEWP MUMMAH AND BABBEHS!”
Josephine meanwhile simply stared down at the purple-colored shit rat, smirking as she watched it’s eyes eyes starting too swell up as the bees continued to attack her and her babies.
The mare continued to ram herself against the door, crying out for help as one by one her foals died off, and she herself began to swell, until eventually she had received too much venom, and she collapsed, twitching and gasping.
Josephine flipped the dying pseudo-horse off before turning away and placing her shotgun down on the ground. She then walked over to her kitchen counter and began to brew herself some coffee. After all, it was going to be a while before the bees calmed down, but in the meantime, she felt like enjoying a nice warm cup of coffee while she listened to the mare’s death rattle.
