“Dummeh mummah! Fwuffy am big nao! No nee dummeh mushie kibbwe!”
This. Little. Shit.
Your name is Rose, and you’re a fluffy breeder. You don’t run a mill, but you’re not really a hugboxer either. You may keep the fluffies happy and let mothers who have proven themselves decent raise their foals with assistance, but you have milkbagged a few fuckers.
But this LITTLE PASTEL BLUE BITCH has been nothing but trouble.
Upon birth, he’d been the loudest out of his siblings, peeping like a rat being minced whenever he wasn’t being hugged or fed. You put it down to him being clingy to his parents at first, and with decent colours like that, a weened foal who is that clingy to their mother will probably be double as clingy to their owner, and fetch a great price. God, that was a mistake! As soon as he was up and walking, he’d hit his siblings when he wanted a go with their toys, resulting in his mother giving him plenty a bop on the nose for you. If it wasn’t for the fact it would have made selling her kids more of a hassle, you would have drowned the little shit at that point. But hey! You’re a merciful woman! Why not see if this colt can turn his act around?
Not your smartest moment.
Day after day, he’s been testing your patience more and more, until now. Not that big of a last straw, but it was enough. You feel like this little shit needs to learn his lesson in a more… creative manner.
“Oh, you’re a big fluffy are you?”
“Wha- wes, das what fwuffy jus said extwa dummeh mummah!”
“You want to test that?”
“Fwuffy wiww beat any stoopi testie mummah gib!”
“Alright. Just remember that you asked for this.”
Poor sod doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him.
You have finally finished the true testament to the amount of freetime you have.
At what cost? Why, 10 hours, some research done into some particularly shitty neighbourhoods, an expensive trip to home depo, and your failed architecture and engineering degree.
You have just built Foleville, named after Michael J. Fole, founder of the city. Inside is a shitty apartment building with all the fluffy neccesities, a job office for the truly hopeless, a tantalising “skettie factory”, a few dingy alleyways where you have some surprises prepared, and a toystore for the lucky. You might expand it with more buildings in the future, but for now, the entire complex is walled off so he doesnt try to leave. The entire place was made to resemble the general depression enducing nature of Cleveland, Ohio. Well, pre-skettieland CLeveland. Entire area is a fucking exclusion zone now. Maybe you’ll set up a wasteland for the next misbehaving foal? Back on subject, The entire place is the appropriate size for a weening colt, who is going to be spending two miserable weeks here. You also made a few handpuppets to communicate with the little shit, along with a few foal-proof hatches for them to have them appear from.
The plan is that this will scare him straight. If that fails, you’ll kill him in a ‘mugging’ and lie to the mother.
Maybe he’ll learn how much he needs “mummah’s dummeh mushie kibbwe” now?
“Alright, ‘big fluffy’, come here.”
The foal turns his head away with a “hmf!”, before he realises he’s being picked up. He then, promptly, shits all over the place.
“PUT BIG FWUFFY DOWN NAO, DUMMEH MUNSTAH MUMMAH! DU IT BEFOW I GIB SOWWIEST POOPIES!”
“Missie Wose, whewe yu takin babbeh?” His actually sensible mother asks.
“Uhhhh… I’m taking him to… Foal Camp.”
“Wus ‘Foaw Camp’?”
“It’s, uh, a happy place where naughty foals like your own go to be taught how to be good babies go.”
“Gasp! Can oddah babbehs go tu? Miwkieshake wans babbehs to gwow to be nicie widdle babbehs tu!”
“Sorry, Milkshake. Bad foals only.”
You’ve always liked Milkshake. She never talked back and always wanted the best for her foals, even the alicorns (though they scare her) and brown foals!
“You wanna say byebye to mummah?”
“BIG FWUFFY NO AM BABBEH! AM GUD FWUFFY! WET! GO! NAO!”
Yeah this little fucker is going to suffer.
You go over to your rainy day jar, pull out 5¢ worth of 1¢ coins, and drop him and the money in Foleville. He stumbles around, confused, before looking up at you.
“Wh… Whewe Fwuffy? Whewe mummah?”
All of the defiance in his eyes has suddenly faded away. Probably the unfamiliarity of the location. That or the absence of his mother.
“Far from here, kid. You’re in Foleville AND on your own. I’d suggest getting an apartment before it gets dark.”
“Fwuffie wan mummeh! Whewe mummeh!”
“I thought you were a big fluffy now?”
“Fwuffie AM! JUST WAN MUMMEH!”
“SHUT IT YOU LITTLE SHIT! I’M TRYING TO WATCH ME STORIES!” Shouts a voice from one of the windows. Unbeknownst to him, you used your hooked up soundboard app to play some audio recordings you got from footage of gang members, shitty parents and Family Guy through a speaker you have inside of the buildings.
“Fwuffy am no shih!”
“SHUT IT YOU LITTLE SHIT! I’M TRYING TO WATCH ME STORIES!”
“FWUFFY AM NO SHIH DUMMEH!”
“SHUT IT YOU LITTLE SHIT! I’M TRYING TO WATCH ME STORIES!”
Tears are beginning to build up in his eyes.
“Remember. If you don’t wanna get hurt at night, get an apartment.”
You walk off to go grab your puppets, and wait for the foal to start moving. You have a feeling this is going to be totally worth it.
You don’t have a name, but you DO know you’re a handsome blue fluffy with about… five coins! Thats a lot of money! You decide to just stay here for a while, and maybe take some poopies out on the street. Nobody can see you, after all!
You turn your head, and see a stuffie friend! He’s wearing a blue hat with a badge on it, looks like a little oinkie friend, and his holding a sorry stick! The voice also sounds familiar… Nah, it can’t be dummy mummah, it’s voice is too high.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” It growls, pointing towards the poopies you just made.
“Poopies, dummeh stuffie fwen- SCREEE!”
OWCHIES! It just hit your smelly place! You wince and put your hooves to your injury, before you feel it hit you again.
“Learn your place, bitch! Now, I’m gonna have to fine you two coins for public indecensy.”
“Nuuu! I’m sowwy! Pwease nu take coin!”
You try to hold onto your money, but you’re not strong enough. The stuffie friend hits you again and takes it. The pain is worse than you’ve ever felt, not even dummy mummah’s sorry stick hurt like that!
“You better learn your lesson, or else I’ll be taking more next time.”
“Huuhuuhuu… otay, fwuffy won’…”
You sit there, huuing softly as you hold what’s left of your money close. Well, until you notice the fact that it’s getting awfully dark… Hmm, what to do… Ah! Your smart little brain just came up with something! You’ll go into the apartment thingie place, and get a nestie there! You’re such a smart fluffy!
Walking in, you see another stuffy friend, though this one looks more like a mousie friend, with it’s arms crossed.
“What do you want, kid.”
It’s voice is gravelly and low pitched. It also sounds a bit like dummie mummah… Probably a coincidence.
“Fwuffy wan ap… apaw… nestie pwace!”
“Sure, but it’ll cost ya. Three coins and I’ll lent you in. Rent’s one coin a day.”
“Money you pay to live here. And if you miss a single day, I’ll add what you’re missing to the next day’s rent.”
“Buh fwuffy nu know how get munies!”
“Well you either find a way, or you’re not getting an apartment. I’m a reasonable rat, though, Ill tell you one thing. You can get a job at the blue Job Center tomorrow, and I’ll be generous and not charge rent that day.”
“BUT! If I find out you don’t have a job by night tomorrow, I’ll have my boys ‘remind’ you. Painfully.”
“O-Oh. Otay, fwuffy wiww, pwomise.”
“Good. Now, your coins please.”
You roll your money over to him, which he takes.
"Thank you. Your room is on floor three, the third one on the left.
This being alone business… doesn’t actually seem so bad! You’ve got a new nestie, a way to get a ‘job’, whatever THAT is, and best of all, you’re away from your dummy human mummah! You do miss your mummah, though, but still. You’d give her life to make the stupid dummy human go forever sleepies. You reach your nestie’s door, opening it with your hoof to see…
The nest is cramped, with you barely able to walk around. In the far left corner, there’s a bed which looks very uncomfortable and stiff. to the right is a food bowl with two slots next to it. One slot has a picture of kibble and one coin next to it, with the other having skettie and three coins! There’s also a clock above it, which isn’t ticking down at all. Next to the food bowl is a water bottle, with another slot and clock by it with the clock slowly ticking down. You have a little bright ball, along with a small, beige ball. The walls and floor are just like the ones in your saferoom, with a window outside. Wait, you even have a tv and a sittie cushion! It’s not the best, of course, but still! Much better than before!
Who needs a dummeh hoomin anyway? Screw bedtime, you’re gonna watch some tv!
What the twat doesn’t know is that you’re watching everything, and control everything. What the little fool thinks is a television is actually a moniter, linked through bluetooth to your phone. You watch the foal as he turns the television on, and ready your Monster Mummah videos playlist. You probably havent heard of her, she’s a youtuber who mainly films her creative abuse of fluffies whilst wearing a four-eyed mask with green tentacle hair. She sometimes collabs with muffin.
You plop down on your sittie cushion, smiling as you watch the teevee get ready to play to watch your video, until-
“Hello, goblins. MunstahMummah here,”
This isn’t Babies,
“Today we’re gonna see what happens if you tie some foals to a firecracker! We’ve got a special fluffy with us. I’m sure you hugboxer ****s have heard of Peter, right? Every filly’s favourite colt from Babies! However, now that he’s all grown up and didn’t grow a pretty enough mane, I managed to contact FluffTV for this special opportunity. Say hi, Peter!”
“PWEASE NU HUWT PETEW!”
THIS ISN’T BABIES!
You don’t know what a firecracker is, but you know that ‘fire’ and foals don’t mix. You see the monster on screen tie a babbeh buy the tail to a ‘fire cracker’, before lighting a string! It’s gonna catch the foal on fire if-
“Oh, shit! Look at that!”
The camera pans to show the scariest thing you’ve ever seen! The babbeh’s gone from a pretty yellow to a charred black, one eye popped and it’s lower half messily burned off, as it weakly paws before freezing. You hear the other foals screech in fear.
“P-PWEASE NU HUWT PETEW! PETEW GUD BABBEH!”
“What’s that? You wanna be hurt?”
“PWEASE TEEBEE NU HUWT GUD BABBEH!”
“Alright then, We’ll see what happens you stick em in your ass!”
“NO POOPIE PWACE!!! NU-HU-HU-HU-HUUUUUUUUU!”
“Alright, you foals like playing, right? Lets play 'How many can you fit?”
“One, two, three, four…”
You cover your eyes, this brutal display being too much for your eyes! Who could hurt babies? They’re not even poopie babies!
“Ten! Now, let’s see what happens when I light them up.”
Oh no. You hear the same clicking and wooshing sound, before it quickly dissapears.
“I dun wun foweba sweepies… wun mummah!”
“BABBEH WEFUSE TO DI-”
Your ears ring from the volume of the explosion coming from the teebee. You look up, seeing a red splatter with a single eye on the stone floor.
“Alright, let’s get a slow action replay of those last two!”
The teevee reverts back to the first foal, who you see looks like they’re a wad of fat being stuck in the microwave; sizzling, boiling and dissapearing into a red mist. You see the rope tear as it’s launched away, leaving a dwindling trail of blood. Then, it skips to the next one who looks like someone puffed in copious amounts of boiling steam into it’s belly. It’s eyes widen, as it splits open and sprays gore and shit everywhere. It’s so scary you even make scaredie poopies! Luckily, it cuts to an ad break, which you take as an opportunity to turn the Teevee off. Is… Is that why dummy human mummah told you not to watch teevee after bedtime? No, no. You’re just sure this is one in a life time. You then turn to the bed, lay down on it and close your eyes, having been worn out by that horrifying footage. Maybe you’ll see mummah in your dreams?