This was a commission for @sockknitterporg I hope they enjoy it and I’d like to thank them so much for their patronage
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There never was a more perfect mare than Trinity, and everyone else could agree with that fact. Pure white fur that never saw a speck of dirt from senseless playing around, a mane and tail that were golden and seemed to catch all of the light in a room. Her hair was always threaded through with tiny diamonds that glittered and caught everyone’s eyes, and her gold-hued wings were always kept neatly folded against her back until a marvelous showing: Extending them to show off immaculately kept feathers.
This was a pageant alicorn, one who took everything she did quite seriously. Every day her mummah waxed her horn until it held a mirror polish, buffed her hooves and applied reflective wax.
Today was one like many she’d gone through in the past: Backstage at a pageant. Another contest to take home the gold. The blue ribbon. Whatever it was, Trinity was going to seize it up in her jaws and never let go.
“Perfect as always, Trinity. Almost like an angel descended from Heaven.” Her mummah, a woman with an obnoxious blonde hair-do done up with lots of hairspray said breathlessly and she gently ran a tortoiseshell brush through her fluffy’s mane. Lifting her nose up to the air, she snorted.
“Twinity am the bestest, dummeh mummah!” As if she didn’t already know of her apparent perfection and putting her less than stellar attitude on display. Huffing a bit, she puffed out her cheeks.
The other mares here didn’t hold a candle to her. That was so obvious and them even being present felt like some kind of a slight. What was their worth? They weren’t even fit to look at the poopies in her litterbox!
“Go and say ‘hi’ to the other girls, Trinity.” That was a code from mummah, and it meant ‘Go and make SURE you win’. Trinity already knew that she was a perfect God among fluffies, but it didn’t hurt to tip things into your favor anymore. Losers, after all, didn’t belong in this world.
Sauntering up to a red and orange mare who was giggling and doing dancies next to a mirror, Trinity gave a rather knowing smile and stamped a hoof down at the tip of her tail.
“Hewwo nyu fwend. Am Twinity. Wat am fwuffy namesie?” It’s not like she cared anyways. These dummehs and their dummeh names were like so much worthless trash.
“Name am Cinnybah!” Trinity rolled her eyes then suddenly pointed her free hoof out.
“Wook! Skettis!” Cinnabar excitedly tried to prance forward in pursuit of skettis and managed to mangle her tail in the process. Falling down to the floor right on her face, she looked back to the clutch of hairs left behind under Trinity’s hoof. The mare stuck her tongue out and went out to find a new victim. Judges wouldn’t let a less than perfect tail pass the bar, now would they?
Primly pushing her nose up to the air, Trinity wandered over to a pink & purple mare who was busy practicing for her talent portion. Each of these shows valued one’s appearance but also made you perform a talent segment to really cement your worth. This mare hopping through an obstacle her owner had set up, colorful hoops and tiny bars to just barely jump over.
“Hewwo nyu fwend! Jewie am doin’ bestest tricks!” Staring at the unfortunately named Julie and looking around to make sure her owner was nowhere to be seen, Trinity pushed up to her.
“Dis am babbeh twicksies! Su su stinkeh…” Julie felt herself falter. It was for babbehs? She did it super good though and her owner always clapped! Feeling her confidence levels plummet, she caught two front legs in a hoop and got tangled. With a squeak and shout, the fluffy plunged straight into the floor in a heap. Flopping around and tearfully crying for her owner, Trinity knew that her work here was done and went meandering. One more would do. The trick was finding a fluffy who was alone.
Ah, there was one. Bright orange fur with a luxurious white tail and mane. Sitting there all alone, surrounded by a few toys which she was absentmindedly playing with while waiting for the events to start. Trinity went strutting up to her with all the confidence afforded to a true winner. Stepping on one of her toys with a squeak, she looked down to the other fluffy.
“Hewwo. Twinity heaw if fwuffy wins, ‘den bigges’ munstah num them!” Looking up suddenly from her collection of stuffy-friends and blocks, the other mare shook her head fiercely.
“Nuu-huu! Nu munstah! Cweamsicle nu wan be nummies! Nuu!” Plopping a hoof into her mouth and beginning to suck on it, she looked to Trinity with terrified eyes. She nodded.
“Bigges’ munstah num yew…’den mummah ‘an daddeh.” At the mention of her mumman and daddeh being turned into nummies, Creamsicle flopped over sideways onto the ground and began screaming against the hoof in her mouth. Sobbing. Thrashing around. Oh yeah, that fluffy was definitely going to be going home.
Trotting back to her mummah, she watched as the woman squeezed herself into a sweater one size too small for her that showed Trinity’s own face in a dazzling array of sequins. “Gooood girl, sweetie. I’m going to go get myself some lunch from the catering table.” Trinity gave a tiny ‘hmph’ as the woman’s ring-bedecked fingers patted down on top of her head, watched as she waddled off to a table to load a plate full of food.
A janitor pushing a broom nearby (these fluffies shed a whole heck of a lot), leaned in to speak to Trinity.
“Psst. Hey, fluffy. Might wanna stop trying so hard. This whole shindig is a race to the bottom.” Glancing at the man from the corner of her eye, Trinity puffed out her cheeks. This was a ‘poor person’. Mummah said, much like poopies, they were not to be talked to in a nice tone. Instead they were to be treated badly, because that’s how the world worked. Mummah didn’t like poor people and neither did she. In his faded blue jeans and stained white shirt, a scraggly beard, even Trinity knew this was just a nobody.
“Yew dummeh! Shuddup! Twinity am be bigges’ winneh ebah! Naow GU ‘WAY!” Stamping her hoof down to the floor in protest at this guy interrupting her thoughts, she huffed until he went away. Mummah regrouped with her precious fluffy moments later, a paper plate piled high with slimy deli meats and room temperature cheese.
Pushing the food through her mouth in a disgusting manner so as to not smear her lurid red lipstick, Trinity’s owner knew the show was about to start soon and was gobbling as fast as she could. Meanwhile, her fluffy went to a full length mirror and stood in front of it. Admiring herself. Turning from side to side, fluttering her eyelashes. She was the prettiest fluffy ever and nobody could ever say no to her. Everyone out there was about to see just what a storied pedigree meant.
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Fluffies were called out on stage, names chosen at random. This was the showing phase. Their owners weren’t allowed to lead them out on stage and Trinity watched as some fluffies clumsily made their way out, looking from side to side before they’d even reached the curtain. They had no presence and that’s not how you were supposed to look. Confidence was the main seller, that’s what mummah said. Walking as if nothing in the whole world was above you.
When it was Creamsicle’s turn to go out, she shook her head and dragged her back hooves down against the floor.
“Nuuu! NUUUUU! CWEAMSICLE NU AM WAN! MUNSTAH! MUNSTAHS! NUU-HUUU!” Whipping around and freaking out so badly that she made bad peepees against the floor, Trinity snickered a bit. That trick had worked in the past and it was working now too! She was such a smarty! Instead of going out on stage, she was led away from the curtain. Her mummah was sorry-sticking her bottom the entire way out and cursing darkly under her breath.
“Trinity, you’re up.” Came a stagehand, waving the alicorn on out to the stage. Trotting up to the held open curtain with her head held high, she exited out to the walkway. Staring eyes, so many faces it felt like an ocean of people. Due to the curiously strong nature of a fluffy’s sense of smell, she could tell what those who had gone before her had been feeling. Fear, nervousness, worry. Not Trinity. These people were HER audience, and walking out left a few of them gasping.
For a fluffy she truly was pretty. Perhaps even better described as beautiful. A jewel which shined on stage and had absolutely no hesitation showing everyone exactly what she was here to do. Without even looking to the floor to keep her step, she kicked up at a brisk pace and kept her bright blue eyes open even as camera flashes popped in from all around her. Getting to the end of the spotlight bedecked walkway, she stopped and fully faced the crowd. Time for her ultimate move: Her wings suddenly flew open and were pinned into the air. Hot light baked down on her from above, made her uncomfortable. Yet she let them catch the beauty of her unfurled feathers. A rather uppity flicker of her wings and she’d turn away from the adoring crowd, gently clip-clopping her way backstage.
There was no question about it: She had won that portion of the contest. They were still out there applauding. Before there had been smatterings of applause but they were still going because SHE was regal, SHE was a professional. All of the fluffies that competed against her were mud. Plain and simple.
“Oh I just know you did marvelously. Such a good girl.” Trinity’s mummah attempted to pet her, and she allowed it. Eyes setting toward the stage curtain, all she needed to do was wait it out until the talent portion. Putting her mind on nothing else. This was something she’d been training in her entire life.
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The talent portion was on and Julie was going on first. Mummah had set up all of the obstacles to jump over and hoops to go through. What Trinity had said still rattled around in her head. Just babbeh tricksies, stinkeh…it wasn’t going to be good enough to win, and her own mummah really really wanted her to. Plagued with self doubt, she knocked over a hoop, got her leg stuck under it.
“Nu, nu, nu…!” Popping back up, she tried to surmount a tall obstacle. It was difficult for fluffies to jump too high in the first place, let alone one which was obsessing over itself at the moment. Her tummy caught on the obstacle and she went crashing down. This was all going wrong. Nothing was working! Little brain attempting to make sense of it all and right which had gone horrendously, she began skittering around and knocking into everything which had been set up.
Launching herself into a vinyl tunnel that normally she’d go through with ease and be happy with, the mare curled up and began crying miserably. A few staff members dragged her, still inside of the tunnel, right off the stage and began throwing the props along with her. Trinity watched the loser get dumped right out of the tunnel and kicked right across the room by her incredibly upset mummah.
None of the other participants had talents worth worrying about. Dancies? You could turn on FluffTV to see that. No, it was painfully obvious that these dummehs had no talents. With a nasty smirk that only grew as time passed, she watched excited mares stumble back past the curtain each callback as if they’d just done something amazing. Nothing but polite applause, and only a tiny amount at that.
“Trinity, you’re up hon.” A staff member said after popping in from behind the curtain. Straightening up, the fluffy allowed herself to have a red, white, and blue cape pinned to her back. With room allowed for her wingies, of course. Time to shine brighter than the rest of this place combined!
The instrumentals of the Star Spangled Banner kicked up over a few loudspeakers. Marching in proudly from behind the curtain was Trinity, taking the center of the walkway they had all been prancing down earlier. This was something she’d practiced so many times with her mummah that it was practically drilled into her instincts by now. Getting up on her hindlegs, she placed a hoof to her chest. It was hard to be up on her back legs for too long but no matter the pain, she couldn’t let this slip. Many sorry-stickings and meanie words had drilled that much into her.
“Can yew see?
dawn’s eawry wite!
Pwoudwy we haiwed
At twiwite wast gweam?
Bwoad stwipes ‘an bwite stawsies!
Twu da fite
Obeh wampawts we am watch!
Gawwantwy stweamin’!
‘An da wocket wed gwawe!
Boomies in aiw!
Gabe pwoof tru dawk-times!
Dat da fwag am stiww dewe!“
This would of course sound like absolute dogshit, if it weren’t for the fact that this was a fluffy. No, for a fluffy THAT was quite impressive. Of course she understood basically none of those words. It was a mystery to her. Hoof moving away from her chest, she ‘thumped’ back to the floor. Flashed her wings out once more in an impressive, majestic display.
“Bwess Amewica and bwess yew!” The entire goddamn floor erupted in applause. So much cheering and thunderous cheering. Trinity didn’t know what ‘America’ was, but mummah said all the idiots loved it and it’d always make sure she won. Tipping her nose up to the air and leaving her adoring fans behind, she put a hoof up and blocked mummah from dragging her up in a hug.
“Nu gib huggies tu Twinity. Hmph.” There was a little cushion bed in the corner next to a kennel, sequins spelling out her name on it. Stepping over to the cushion and sinking down with a sigh as mummah unbuttoned her cape all she had to do was wait for the results to be in.
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“And our big winner this year is…and this is no surprise, sorry ladies! It’s Trinity and her owner Maureen!” All of the fluffies were standing together in a line during the big announcement. Just as she’d done so many times in the past, Trinity and her owner went to collect their reward. Maureen was given a piece of paper, but the fluffy didn’t care about that. Instead she was waiting for a trophy. Something shiny to go in her cabinet. Or a big blue ribbon to pin on her fur, a thing of great importance to gloat about and show off to the others.
There was no blue ribbon. No big, gleaming trophy either. Instead, breaking with tradition, a burly bald man in a black shirt came to lift Trinity up by her pretty, well-brushed mane.
“Nu touch Twinity! Dummeh!” Normally she was supposed to act nice to these people but they were already the winners. Struggling around, she shot Maureen a scathing look. As if to say ‘Get this man off of me!’.
“Look at her energy! This year’s nationwide search for a special little breed mare has gone off without a hitch. I for one cannot wait to see the cute foals she provides the world with! Future winners all, I’m sure!” Foals? That meant babbehs. Trinity HATED babbehs. Besides that, where was this man bringing her? There was a tiny kennel located near the stage which she got shoved into, the alicorn bopping against the bars with her horn.
“Mummah! Hewp Twinity! NAO, dummeh! Am in meanie pwace an’ wan out!” Maureen wasn’t even looking at her though. It’s as if her fluffy didn’t exist in her eyes anymore. Instead she stood on the stage with a big dumb smile on her face, having photos taken of herself with that stupid piece of paper.
“Mummah! WOOK AT TWINITY! AM NEE’ YEW!” Rattling around, all she was afforded for her anger and frustration was a blackout curtain being draped over the kennel.
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She knew she was being moved along because of the sensation of her kennel being picked up. By now she was thumping against the bars of her imprisonment and giving lots of meanie words to whoever was holding her.
“Yew beddah wet Twinity gu! Am mostest impowtant fwuffy ebah! Haechu! Dummeh! Yew am poow and Twinity am not!” They didn’t talk to her though. No matter what she screamed or demanded, they wouldn’t give her attention. To a creature that was doted on it’s whole life and given whatever she wanted, this greatly frustrated her.
The kennel was deposited in the back of a vroomy, and she knew this because of the loud engine sound. Turning around in the kennel, she gave the bars sorry-hoovies with her hindlegs. “Twinity am get out an’ gib yew sowwy-poopies! Teehee!” Still aggressive and not knowing just how deep her situation was. Sorry-hoofs didn’t get any response still, and she sank down to the kennel and waited to eventually be freed. They were going to regret messing with her!
Traveling for a long time, her experience in the vroomy was one of mounting indignation. Once she got out, she was going to make her mummah pay too. That’s all. Everyone was going to get sorry-hooves or wowstest poopies for daring to mess with her in such a way. Eventually the vehicle stopped, she felt herself once more being lifted up and carried along.
“Dats wite, dummeh! Yew bwing Twinity homesie! ‘An say sowwy!” Huffing, puffing, tapping a hoof down on the travel kennel base. With a whirl, the blackout curtain keeping her from viewing any of the outside world was cast to the floor. Bright light blinded the mare as the kennel was clicked open, mare dumped out onto a table.
“Pretty uppity bitch, aren’t you? Welcome to your new home.” Before she could give ANYONE sorry-poopies, she felt her weggies get cinched between leather straps, tummy pressed down to a cold table.
Her eyes adjusted and she saw the bald man from earlier along with a new figure, a lanky man with a scraggly beard and a grease stained baseball cap.
“Get ready with the torch.” Was all the bald man said before selecting an absolutely massive meat cleaver from a selection of tools. Without so much as a warning he sent the blade smacking down on one of her front legs. Trinity watched in shocked horror as the blade severed everything, didn’t even know pain for the immediate moment. No, instead the entirety of her mind was on the pretty widdew weggy which still has reflective wax on the hoof. It went flopping to the floor and then the pain began.
An acetylene torch clicked, whooshed to life as the lanky man leaned in to burn the flesh where her leg had been. There was a crackling as flesh simmered, charred, burnt up. An acrid stench filled the room, and the bald man was already ‘thwacking’ off her other front leg with expert precision.
“EEEEE! WEGGIES! HUWTIES! MUMMAH, MUMMAH HEWP TWINITY! HAB SUUU MUCH HUWTIES!” The pain tingled every part of her body and made think-place feel as if it were on fire too. Tears squirted out the corners of her eyes and instead of giving them sorry-poopies she instead soiled herself. An undignified act. Didn’t mummah care? Where was she to help her prettiest, most special fluffy?“
“Shut up. We’re almost done with your legs.” Baldy grumped, going back to her hind-legs and lopping them off. Each were gathered up, tossed into a nearby wastebin. Trinity looked pleadingly to her legs. Those were hers. She needed those!
“NEE’ WEGGIES ‘FO BESTEST SHOWSIES! NU MOWE HUWTIES! GIB WEGGIES BACK! EEEEEE! WITE NAOW! NAOW!” He hadn’t been lying though: The work with her legs was done with amazing professionalism, cauterized cleanly too. Of course she’d be in pain, but there was a whole lot of time to be getting used to that.
“Wings. I’ll just use my hands.” The lanky guy suggested, his companion nodding. Two hands grabbed ahold of Trinity’s pretty little wings, her showstoppers. How many people had been amazed with their gold filament? Had marveled over just how perfectly she used them for dramatic effect? With zero fucks given, her wings were rent from her body with a sickening tear. The fluffy watched with abject horror and disgust as they joined her limbs in the trashcan, being cast aside as if they were nothing more than garbage.
“I got the horn.” Baldy noted, bringing out a pair of dog nail trimmers from his pocket. Notching it against her horn, he clipped it. Her horn. So pretty, waxed down, an absolutely shining thing just ripped away from her.
“Pwetty hown…nuu…” Sniffling, her pride was the thing that hurt most right now. Forget the burnt stumps that used to be her weggies, she was watching her identity be shed right in front of her. All the precious things. HER!
“Pwease meanie mustahs, pwease nu mowe huwties. Fwuffy omwy widdew fwuffy. Nee’ huggies ‘n mummah.” Baldy pocketed his nail clippers and picked up something from the tray of tools. An electronic razor. Trinity actually recognized the tool for what it was: Mummah used it on herself sometimes to get rid of hair.
Shaking her head back and fourth rapidly, she tried to rattle against the leather straps holding her down. “Nuu! Dun! Nuu! PWEASE! MUMMAH! TWINITY HEWE! YEW FOHGET TWINITY!” With a click the electronic razor buzzed to life and she screamed hard when it connected with her fur. More pain, a great deal with it as he wasn’t being gentle. Digging the razor down he tore great strips of her beautiful coat away with long streaks of bloodied flesh. Her most prettiest thing. Anything fluffies cared mostest about, especially one as vain as her. Cool air hit her exposed flesh and all she could do was screech with such force that it seemed like her lungs would plop right out her mouth. This process violating, soul crushing, and when she got unstrapped and flipped onto her back to continue the process the mare stared daggers up to her abuser.
“Haechu. Twinity haechu fowebbah an’ ebba! Goan gib you wowstest huwties!” Tears tracked down her cheeks as the shaver went along her tummy. Baldy looked to his coworker.
“Give this loudmouth some motivation to shut up, would’ja?” The lanky man nodded and reached down beside the table. Lifting up a cattle prod, he shoved it out and twisted it against the tender flesh of Trinity’s now exposed belly. Her teeth clenched down and eyes fluttered rapidly as electricity coursed throughout her body. It felt as every part of her being was being stung by bees and when the cattle prod was jerked away from her, she found herself quite unwilling to speak any longer.
Fur shaved off, watching the last vestiges of her beauty be thrown into the trashcan, all she could do was hope mummah would show up. Mummah would yell at these meanies, put her weggies, horn, and wingies back on. There’d be a big gold trophy and she’d be on the path to winning her next big show. Cinching thumb and index finger against her neck, Baldy dragged Trinity down from the table.
“C’mon, princess. We’ve got a stately room just for you.”
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Trinity was shoved into a concrete room which had nothing but a drain in it. Positioned on top of a litterbox, there wasn’t even FluffTV. Just concrete blocks, a windowless wall, a bright fluorescent light overhead.
“Feeding time.” Forcing her mouth wide open, a feeding tube slithered past her teeth and far into her throat. The bald man had a bag of nutrient paste in one hand, kneading at it so the attached hose had a constant slow rush of the slurry. Trinity gagged, sputtered, didn’t want this. Yucky taste, and…and she didn’t want to eat ever again! She wasn’t a yucky nu-weggy DUMMEH! Perhaps there’d been through this plenty of times before because they weren’t even giving her the chance for kibble.
“There we go. No chance to say no to food. We need your nice and relatively healthy.” Gripping the tube and giving a massive yank back, Trinity whimpered and ducked her head down. She wanted to throw up more than anything but didn’t want to lay in it. No legs to get away from it, after all.
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Eventually her teeth were removed. Trinity of course tried to protest it and had received the cattle prod directly against her poopie place. After that, she felt most of the fight leech out of her.
Toothless, fluffless, legless. Without a horn or wingies. They had taken everything from her. One day they’d come in to put something in her special place, and she couldn’t even fight it.
Laying in that brightly lit tomb day in and day out all she could think of were the adoring fans that had once been at pageants. How she’d been up on the stage and wowed them with her perfection. There were no pageants now. No contest wanted an ugly fluffy.
She swelled up with foals, as to be expected, and didn’t even care. She hated babbehs. All they did was take her spotlight. They weren’t as cute as she was. They didn’t know how to do the bestest tricks.
When the ‘big day’ came, she simply slumped forward in her litterbox and dropped them. No ‘bigges’ poopies’ or mummah song. A tiny grunt and that was all. They passed into the world just like any poop did, and that’s all they were worth to her.
The staff members were there to make her act right though. Whistling to himself and getting a harness ready, he strung Trinity up on it. Her chirpies were beautiful: White, royal purple, a dark red, emerald. She was of a proper pedigree after all.
Turning on a boombox that had a CD set on repeat, the mummah song played over and over. Truly it never stopped. Gritting her gums together, Trinity had to listen to that stupid song over and over.
“Haechu babbehs. Haechu babbehs! Mummah haechu, hope miwkies gib yew fowebbah sweepies, stay WIDDEW an’ SMAWW!” The verbal abuse being hurled at them didn’t matter a whit though. All that mattered were miwkies and the much louder mummah song. There was a point after the CD ended where there was a grace of five seconds before it began again. This was when Trinity got even more aggressive.
“TWINITY HAECHU DUMMEHS! STINKEH BABBEHS! GU FOWEBBAH SWEEPIES!” Luckily for them though? They didn’t understand. As well, they didn’t have to see the flesh-colored slug that was their mother. When their eyes started opening the staff members rotated them out of the room. After all, one of the earliest memories shouldn’t be of their mummah. Not that disgusting thing.
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After her third litter, Trinity simply hung from the harness that was strapped up for her. Her babbehs took their miwkies, and she no longer hurled abuse at them. In fact, she didn’t much say anything. A long cable of drool dripped down from her mouth and she’d gone walleyed and glassy gazed.
The world of pageantry felt so far away. All of her worth was gone and her mind had began to slip along with it.
Even though she tried not to think, that stupid mummah song played. A constant noise that grated at her. These dummehs weren’t worth anything. If only she could have everything back. All these lost things. If only she’d listened and hadn’t tried so hard that day.
Fat droplets of tears dripped down to the cooing litter of chirpies below. The foals delighted in the saltiness of them, peeping happily from the product of their mummah’s sorrows. They would go on to become the new stars of tomorrow while she rotted here, forgotten and unloved.
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