Well, this was the fucking worst. Red had been up all night, unable to sleep more than a few minutes here or there due to the stench of his sorry poopies. That cheap kibble and off brand Spaghetti O’s at the shelter did not do his gut any favours. If that dummeh human would have just let him out, this wouldn’t be an issue! Stupid, stupid human…
“Good morning, recruit.”
Red jumped a little when the dummeh human opened the door. He felt like he’d been up for a thousand forevers, but he didn’t think it was bright time already! Even worse, the big bastard had brought another, lesser Fluffy to MOCK him!
“I’m going to assume you’ve learned your lesson on sorry poops.” The little Smarty looked pathetic. His maroon hooves had poop smeared on them, and he had visible eye bags from his lack of sleep.
“Babbeh nu make sowwy poopies anymowe. Smeww weel not pwetties…” Red’s jaw dropped. Before him stood the largest stallion he had ever seen! Soybean was an off-white Earthie, and easily the size of a medium dog. That’s freakish for a Fluffy, especially a non Alicorn! He had lots of scars, and one of his legs was weird and shiny and grey. Clearly, this was the toughest toughie around…!
“S-smawty nu babbeh! Smawty gib WUWST sowwy hoo-”
Soybean stuck out his weird leg, effortlessly holding back the petite smarty. It was cold, like the kennel he was in at the shelter. “Fwuffy act wike babbeh, get cawwed babbeh. Soybean nu insuwt, just say wut Soybean see.”
Soybean was Mitch’s strongest Fluffy, but he had a heart of gold under all that scar tissue. He’d been taken off the streets as a weanling and put through utter hell by some shithead who was mad about his divorce, only rescued when the dude’s Tinder hookup got lost looking for the bathroom and decided to fluffnap him to safety. Despite being riddled with injuries and needing a leg amputated, Soybean was the gentlest, most loving Fluffy around. He was an excellent teacher for training Therapy Fluffys, and his size ment he was also an excellent enforcer for disrespectful Smartys.
“This is Soybean. He’s your commander from here on out. I suggest you stay on his good side, recruit.”
“Soybean tink you need to cwean up aww this poopies…”
“That’s the plan, Bean.” Mitch turns around, grabbing a Fluffy sized bucket of soapy water and two rags, which he places infront of Red.
“Get scrubbing, recruit.”
“WHA- Smawty nu cweany mawe! Dummeh hughman and dummeh stawion cwean up mess! Smawty nee go fine sketti-OOF”
Mitch unceremoniously tossed a rag at Red. “You get breakfast when there’s no more shit on the floor.”
Soybean shakes his head disapprovingly “Maybeh if Wed was nice Fwuffy, Soybean wud have hewped. But Wed vewy meanie babbeh…”
“SMAWTY AM NOT BAB- HEY! DUMMEH HUGHMAN NU SHUT DOOR ON SMAWTY! COME BACK HEWEEEEEE-”
Mitch slams the door before turning twoards Soybean. “Sorry you had to smell that, champ.”
“It otay Mistah Mitch. Soybean smeww wowse poopies fwom talkie babbehs befowe.”
“He’s… he’s gonna be a rough one.”
“Dat a weawwy meanie Fwuffy. Gowing tu use sowwy stick…?”
“I’m trying to avoid it, but he’s probably gonna get it eventually.” Mitch didn’t like using sorry sticks. He was a firm believer in positive reinforcement and a sorry box, MAYBE a firm tap on the rump,but smartys often times don’t behave in the first place to get that positive reinforcement. “If he uses the bathroom outside the litterbox again, he’s getting diapered.”
Soybean nodded. No continent Fluffy enjoyed wearing diapers… well, the incontinent ones don’t either, but most of them eventually understand its necessary. Diapers were for little babbehs, and a surefire way to get teased by almost any Fluffy you see. “How wong untiww check on Wed?”
“I’ll give him 15 minutes or so. He’s too small to do any actual cleaning, it’s more so the principal.”
Soybean understood: he was a big Fluffy, and even he wasn’t spectacular at cleaning. Mister Mitch liked to use what he called “Natural consequences” in his training, and in this case, the consequence of pooping was to “clean” it up.
“Otay.” He didn’t know what 15 minutes was, but he’s pretty sure it’s not a lot. “Soybean get bweakfast nao?”
“It’s a little early, but… I suppose you deserve breakfast after smelling that mess.”
“Yaaaay!” Soybean dances around, the sound of his prosthetic making an odd clank on the tile floor. Breakfast makes EVERYTHING better.
Red was smart enough to realize he didn’t have a choice here. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t bitch about the entire time, of course, but he REALLY needed to get out of this poop hotbox.
“Dummeh hughman… Gon gib fowevah sweepies…”
Red threw the rag into the water, completely unaware of the concept of liquid dynamics. Naturally, the soapy water splashed up into his eyes.
“EEEEEEEK- DUMMEH WAWA GIB SEE PWACE HUWTIES!!!”
For the sin of attacking a Smarty, he kicked the bucket… which only caused it to tip over and more water to splash up in his face.
“NUUUU!! SEE PWACE NO WOWKIES!!! SKREEEEEEEEEE-”
Red collapsed onto the floor in a sobbing mess. Why was that dummeh water attacking him? Doesn’t it know he’s the smartest Fluffy ever?
“Huuuuu… Nu smeww good… Nee nummies… See pwace huwties… wan Mummah…”
The Smarty sat there huuhuuing for what felt like ages. His beautiful maroon coat was clumped together with poop and soapy water. He had never experienced such sorrow in his year and a half of life. Well, not since Mummah and Daddeh… No, he doesn’t want to think about that.
“Sorry, Red. We had a little situation, so I couldn’t come get y- Fuck.”
Mitch looked down at the Fluffy, sitting in a pool of shit and piss water. Yes, he was small for a yearling, but Mitch was certain he was big enough to handle a little baby Fluffy sized bucket…
“What happened in here…?”
“D-dummeh wawa get in see pwaces, gib burnie huwties… gib sowwy hoof, bu wawa gib eben mowe huwties… huuuu…”
As much as Mitch felt the urge to mock him for not being very smarty right now, that would probably ruin this prime learning moment. He bent over, picking up Red like a cat.
“That’s what happens when you give things sorry hoofs, recruit.” Mitch briefly pauses, thinking about how he wishes his drill Sargents had been as nice as he’s being right now. Oh well. “They give you sorrys right back.”
The petite Fluffy looked up at Mitch. His eyes were red and irritated from the soap, and all that crying didn’t help at all. For once, the smarty felt like a big fat baby. “Smawty am bestest smawtest Fwuffy evah. Wai evwyone nu wike Smawty?”
“That’s because you’re a mean Fluffy.”
“Nu am!!! Am bestest Fwuffy!!!”
“Stop wiggling, you’ll fall- Listen, you’re covered in shit. You need to get a bath, and then you can have breakfast.”
“Nummies???” He blinks his big brown eyes. “Smawty finawy get sketties?”
“No. Spaghetti is for good Fluffys. You can have kibble for breakfast.”
“NU! SMAWTY NEE SKETTIES! GIB SKETTIES NA- EEEK!”
Red squealed as Mitch spanked him. It wasn’t a hard hit. Actually, it didn’t really hurt at all. A less dramatic Fluffy would call it a tap. But dramatic Red was, and it was firm enough to shut him up. “Huu… booty huwties…” It was common for mares to scold their babies with a firm pat on the bum. Of course, Red’s mummah had never scolded him… so.
“You’re being VERY bad. Listen, I don’t like punishing Fluffys, okay? I don’t want to have to correct you again. You need to learn some manners.”
“Huuu…”
“That’s what I thought. Come on, you need a bath and some eyedrops…” Mitch would slip one of his guys some extra cash to clean out the sorry room; he had to focus on washing off this literal shitrat.
