(this is my first Fluffy Story, hope it’s alright)
Slushie was what people often referred to as a feral. She didn’t know what the word “fewal” meant, other than it sounded nice to her ears. Slushie considered herself to be somewhat of an independent fluffy. She didn’t need no herd or special friend, oh no. She saw what those things did to other Fluffies. What it turned them into.
After all, it was her own herd and her own mummah’s special friend that tried to give her forever sleepies. Her daddeh tried to keep her around for as long as possible, he tried and tried and tried. He thought that all babbehs should be loved. And it made logical sense to Slushie in hindsight. Of course babbehs should be loved. They were cute and sweet and cuddly and affectionate and all other sorts of words she didn’t know how to pronounce.
There was just one problem though. She had a pointy. And she had wingies. Slushie was an alicorn. A pretty pink alicorn with icy blue hair. She chose to call herself Slushie because she saw hoomins drinking icy wawa drinks that were blue and pink like her and they called them slushies and she liked the sound of that word. It suited her. And well, nobody else was ever going to give her a name, so she gave it to herself.
Oh, right. Back to her tragic backstory. She remembered her daddeh sobbing, begging his special friend not to give her forever sleepies. But her dummeh mummah wanted her dead. Apparently Slushie was a monster. It never made any sense to her. Some Fluffies had point parts. Some Fluffies had wingies. Some Fluffies had neither pointy parts or wingies. So why was it so weird that she had both?
She came to the conclusion that special friends were munstahs who gave forever sleepies to innocent babies so she didn’t want one. Which unfortunately meant she couldn’t have her own babbehs. What was a pointy-wingie fluffy to do?
Slushie lived on the streets ever since she ran away from the forest as a foal. She heard tales of hoomin munstahs who did terrible things to Fluffies, so she knew well enough to avoid them as much as possible.
When she saw a hoomin put a thing in the wall of her favourite alley, she knew it was trouble. Cautiously, Slushie approached the thingie that she felt was definitely absolutely a trap.
“Wha did these mummahfwuffers put in Swushie’s homesie?” Slushie snorted. Her language was a tad more… abrasive than the average fluffy. She learnt all kinds of amazing, funny sounding words from the hoomins.
A motion detector from the machine sensed her presence and played an audio recording from its speakers.
“Hello Fluffy! Put babbehs in the Sketti Box for free Sketti Nummies!” the voice recording said cheerfully.
Slushie recoiled. Oh. It was one of THESE things. The evil box that encouraged mummahs to drop their babbehs like last week’s trash into the hatch for skettis. She had seen plenty of these before in the city. She had heard of Skettis before. Apparently it was supposed to be like Fluffy Ambrosia. The best thing a fluffy would ever eat in their life.
Slushie stuck her tongue out at it. “Sowwy, Sketti Box! Yu nu twick Swushie! Swushie hate sketti!”
It was a sentence that would make every Fluffy in the vicinity, plus several humans faint in shock. A Fluffy that didn’t like sketti?! Slushie had tried it before. She found it in a discarded takeout box. But it was covered in this yicky red sauce that made her gag when she tried it. It reminded her of those disgusting tomatoes that her daddeh brought home for nummies one time. She hated them so much.
So if Sketti had tomatoes in it, she hated it. She did like carbonara and macaroni however. Shame that this Sketti Box didn’t have any. Slushie went back to her favourite box nestie and took a nap. “Stoopid dummeh babbeh foreba sweepies Sketti box.” she muttered to herself.
It took all of five seconds for her eyes to snap open. “GASP! SWUSHIE KNO HOW TO GET BABBEH!” she squealed. She rummaged through her the trash can beside her nestie and found what she was looking for. A discarded soda cup. She plopped that sucker right onto her head.
It was the perfect disguise. A Fluffy would NEVER be able to tell she was a munstah with this covering her horn. She was just a totally innocent wingie fluffy now.
All she had to do now was wait for some poor innocent (well, maybe not innocent, they were sacrificing their babbehs for pasta) mummah to come along to the Sketti Box. It wouldn’t take long after all. The Sketti Box itself smelled of Skettis. Slushie didn’t know how many forevers had passed, but it was probably a lot of forevers when a Mummah finally showed her face.
It was a pretty pointy Fluffy with white fluff and two babbehs. A pointy babbeh with red fluff was riding along on her back, singing happily about getting skettis.
“Bestest Babbeh gets bestest skettis from bestest mummah!” he trilled, as Mummah moseyed along. She was carrying her second foal in her mouth, a brown wingie Fluffy. Slushie didn’t know a lot about foals, but she was certain that they weren’t supposed to be as frail and starved looking as that brown foal did. The sickly wingie fluffy was huu huu-ing his little heart out to deaf ears.
“Shaddup, dummeh brudda! Poopie babbehs onwy for skettis!” The red bestest babbeh snapped, darting to stand on his mummahs head to look down on his unfortunate brother.
The mummah dropped the brown babbeh on the ground to speak, pressing her hoof down on him to prevent him from running away. “Dat’s right, onwy bestest babbehs get skettis, dummeh poopie babbeh onwy for Sketti Box!” White Meanie Mummah shouted.
Slushie was about as pissed off as a fluffy could possibly be. That dummeh mummah was acting like her mummah did! To a little babbeh! Oh well, time to put her plan into action.
Slushie skipped merrily out of the alley to meet with the Meanie Mummah.
“Hewwo! You hewe for Sketti Box? Wingie Fwuffy kno whewe Sketti Box is! Fowwow Wingie Fwuffy!” she said cheerfully.
“Tank yu! Bestest Mummah needs to get wid of dummeh poopie babbeh to get skettis for bestest babbeh!” Meanie Mummah said proudly, completely oblivious and trusting to this random Fluffy. After all, she knew where the Skettis was. Why wouldn’t she trust her?
Meanie Mummah followed Slushie into the alley, with brown babbeh huu huu-ing even harder than ever before at his impending doom while Bestest Babbeh stuck his tongue out a him. Meanie Mummah reached the Sketti Box, and was just about to drop Brown Babbeh into the hatch when Slushie started doing her evil-est evil laugh ever. The mummah of all evil laughs.
Bestest Mummah paused, dropping brown babbeh to the floor again, glaring at Slushie in annoyance. “Wat so funneh, dummeh fwuffy?”
“MWAHAHA! Swushie twick you! Am nu wingie fwuffy!” she announced dramatically.
With a dramatic swish of her head, Slushie threw off her dastardly disguise, revealing her pointy horn.
“AM MUNSTAH FWUFFY!” she cackled, flapping her wings to really emphasise her munstah-ness.
The Meanie Mummah screamed at the top of her lungs and backed away in absolute terror, throwing Bestest Babbeh off her back as she fell backwards, waving her hooves out pathetically in some form of defence mechanism. "SCREEEEE! MUNSTAH!!!
“Am gonna num babbehs!” Slushie growled, gnashing her teeth together.
“NUUUU! NU NUM BABBEHS, BABBEHS ARE FOR WUB AN HUGGIES!” the mummah wailed.
“If Dummeh Fwuffy no wan babbehs to be nummies, Dummeh Fwuffy do what MUNSTAH says!” Slushie exclaimed, rearing up on her back legs to make herself look bigger to really strike fear into the hearts of her enemies.
"OTAY! OTAY! FWUFFY DO WHAT MUNSTAH SAYS! HUUU HUUUUUUUU!!! The Meanie Mummah fell to belly, covering her eyes with her hooves, with Bestest Babbeh trying desperately to hide under her.
“Dummeh Fwuffy must… Give poopie babbeh to munstah for nummies! MWAHAHA!” Slushie yelled. Oh she was really good at this munstah thing! She could practically picture the ominous evil lighting flashes that must be going off around her!
“Is dat it?” The Meanie Mummah asked flatly.
Slushie was caught off guard. Wasn’t this fluffy supposed to be shaking in her hoofsies?
“Otay, here dummeh poopie babbeh. Num poopie babbeh, fwuffy no care.” The mummah said nonchalantly, dropping her brown foal right at Slushie’s feet.
“Huu huuu… No wan be nummies! Nu wan forebah sweepies!” the little brown foal sobbed, covering his eyes with his gloves.
“SHADDUP DUMMMEH POOPIE BABBEH, GO BE NUMMIES! MUMMAH HATCHU!” the mummah screamed, stomping her hoof and making the babbeh cry louder.
“Otay, Fwuffy gun wun or is Swushie gonna hab to stab a bitch?” Slushie growled. She took one quick, swift jab and poked a hole in the mummah’s side with her horn.
The mummah screamed in agony, yelled something about wowstest hurties and ran out of the alleyway with her bestest babbeh.
Slushie was angry. And they called her a munstah? Real munstahs were the Fluffies that didn’t love their babbehs and gave them biggest heart hurties.
The little brown babbeh was still crying, giving Slushie her own heart hurties. She lay down on the ground next to the babbeh and tried to console him.
“Yu otay, widdle babbeh?” she asked, trying to keep her voice as soft and un-monsterlike as possible.
“Please nu hurt poopie babbeh!!” the brown babbeh sobbed, his brown fluff soaked with tears.
“Swushie nu num babbeh! Swushie think babbeh needs new mummah.” she cooed.
“Wha?” the foal gasped, looking up at her.
“Swushie wanted babbehs but nu fwuffy wan be Swushie’s speshal fren because dey think Swushie is a munstah… Am nu munstah, am pointy-wingie fwuffy.” Slushie admitted, trying to soothe the terrified babbeh.
“Swushie’s mummah wan give Swushie forebah sweepies but Swushie run away. Swushie knows other mummah nu like poopie babbehs so they bwing them to sketti box. So Swushie wait for dummeh mummah to come to sketti box so Swushie can take poopie babbeh and gib dem wuv and huggies and milkies!”
“Wha?” The little poopie babbeh gasped. He couldn’t believe it. This pointy-wingie fwuffy wanted to be his new mummah? But he thought munstahs gave babbehs forever sleepies!
“New mummah…?” he said cautiously,
“Yes! Swushie wanna be new mummah!” she said, flapping her wings happily.
“Nu make poopie babbeh num poopies and gib sowwy hoofsies?” he asked tearfully.
“Silly babbeh, you nu poopie babbeh! You chocowate babbeh! Swushie gon call babbeh Chocowate! It babbeh’s new namsie!”
The little brown babbeh stood up on his hind legs and did the most spectacular, grateful dance be could manage on his tiny feet. “YAAAAAY! CHOCOWATE WUV NEW MUMMAH!”
Slushie heard a shrill screeching behind her, loud enough to shatter windows.
The dummeh mummah was back and this time she was bringing her bestest babbeh to the Sketti Box.
“SCREEEEE! MUMMAH NU! BESTEST BABBEH NU AM NUMMIES! HATCHU! HATCHU! WOWSTEST MUMMAH EVAH!” the blue unicorn babbeh shrieked, kicking and trying to bite his completely uncaring mummah.
“Sowwy, bestest babbeh. Mummah wants sketti mowe than babbehs. Wastest Babbeh onwy babbeh left so Wastest Babbeh must be sketti.” Dummeh Mummah said without an ounce of sympathy. She dropped her wailing babbeh directly into the machine.
“You’re a good Fluffy! Here’s your sketti!” an automated voice from the Foals For Sketti machine played on a speaker as a fresh bowl of sketti was dropped down from a hatch.
“Yu wite, Sketti Box. Am Bestest Fluffy.” the mummah said snobbily as she prepared to dig into her newly acquired reward for infanticide.
Slushie puffed her cheeks and stomped her foot. The audacity! Why, this couldn’t stand!
“Wait hewe, babbeh.” Slushie said calmly, nuzzling him.
Slushie took a deep breath and charged down the alley, wings buzzing, horn pointed low.
“BLARGLEWARGLEBLABBAHBLA!” she yelled, making her best imitation of what she thought a munstah should sound like.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” Dummeh Mummah screamed, leaping higher than a fluffy could possibly jump, in sheer fright. Gravity proved to be a harsh mistress as she landed straight into the Sketti Box.
“You’re a good Fluffy! Here’s your sketti!” the magic sky voice said again as a second bowl of sketti was plopped in front of Slushie.
Slushie stared at the Sketti Box in horror. “… Oh cwap, Swushie nu mean to do dat.”
“Mummah?” Chocolate called out from his hiding spot. Slushie looked back down the alley at him. Her little thinker thinked as hard as it could think. She was 90% sure that the Sketti Box actually ate Fluffies and the meanie sky voice gave Fluffies Sketti as a reward for feeding her sketti box munstah pet. At the very least, she knew that Fluffies dropped into the Sketti Box never came out again.
Slushie was 100% convinced she accidentally commited fluffy manslaughter. She just wanted to scare the dummeh mummah away and steal her sketti, not feed her to the boxie munstah. She shrugged as much as a Fluffy could shrug and dragged both bowls of sketti down the alley to her new babbeh.
She may not have liked Sketti, but at least her new partner in crime would enjoy it. Maybe he could help her commit more evil schemes!
“Hewe, Chocowate! Mummah Swushie gotchu skettis!”
Chocolate’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop. His little wingies buzzed so fast that she swore she could see him lift off the ground for a second. “TANK YU! TANK YU! WUV MUMMAH!”
Slushie smiled. She learnt a very important lesson that day. She could weaponise her munstah-ness to steal nummies from other meanie fluffies and be a menace to the worst of Fluffy kind.