The new arrival looked around at the other fluffies in the daycare, somewhat daunted by the new scenery and the numerous chattering voices surrounding him. Although it was only for a few bright-times, his daddeh had had to leave him, so he had to stay at the daycare for the time being. His daddeh had said there’d be lots of fluffies to play with, but this was too much to take in!
“Hello, little guy. New here?”
“Smawty nebah been tu daycawe befowe.”
The nice lady made a “tch” sound when she heard that. “Smarty, eh?”
“Hewwo, nice wady.”
“Hey, Zach, take care of the fluffies for a bit. Someone dropped off a smarty.”
“Again?” Zach asked, voice tired. “You taking him to the back room?”
“Yeah. This is the best part of the job. You wanna do it?”
“Hell no. I’m not a psychopath.”
“I’m…not sure how to take that. Fine, just keep an eye on them while I deal with this one.”
“Bad upsies!” the smarty cried as he was lifted and carried to the back room. He shook as the smell of blood, death, and pain filled his nostrils. “Wut nice wady wan fwom Smawty?”
He received no answer as his legs were lowered into an immobilization board. The nice, no, the munstah lady laughed as he struggled, his hooves touching something sticky under the board. The smell of blood was unbearable now.
Across from him, a small TV was turned on. An obnoxious jingle played, then a voice spoke in faux-cheerful tones. “Welcome to the Smarty Room!”
“Wai hab woom fow Smawty? Smawty nebah eben been hewe befowe?”
This earned him a sharp, agonizing lash from a whip-like sorry-stick. “Shut up. Watch.”
“You’re here because you’ve been the very worst fluffy! You’re so bad that your mummah or daddeh wants you to have the worst hurties and forever-sleepies!”
“NUUUUU! SMAWTY AM GUD FWUFFY! PWEASE NU HUWT! NU FOREBAH-SWEEPIES!”
“Not going to shut up, are you? Fine.”
Smarty’s jaws were forced open. A filthy cloth was shoved into his mouth, reducing his frantic cries to muffled moans. It tasted of blood, and of other things Smarty didn’t want to think about. He struggled, but couldn’t escape the immobilization board.
“Your mummah or daddeh thinks you’re so bad,” the recording continued. “That they wanted us to make them a movie so they can watch you suffer and die over and over!”
Smarty sobbed, confusion and terror overwhelming him. Why was this happening? He’d never done anything bad! Why did his daddeh hate him?
The TV shut off. “There you have it, shitrat,” the munstah lady said, grinning cruelly. “Now I’m going to enjoy this. First, though, we need you to talk for the camera.”
“Pwease, nice wady,” Smarty pleaded when the gag was removed. “Smawty nu nyo wut Smarty du, bu’ smawty am sowwy! Pwease nu huwt Smawty!”
“And yet you continue to call yourself Smarty, dumbass. If you’d been able to pretend to not be defective for a few days you wouldn’t be in here.”
“Smawty nu nyo wut nice wady mean! Wai Smawty nu cawwed Smawty?”
“You know, when I started working here I hated this part of the job. Then a smarty like you managed to hide it long enough to be left unsupervised. I don’t want to remember what he did to the foal he managed to catch, but I can’t forget it. So I’m taking it out on you. Understand?”
“NU! Smawty nu undastan’! Smawty am gud fwuffy! Gud fwuffies am fow huggies an’ wub!”
“Still trying to lie to me, huh? You’d think so-called “smarty” fluffies would be able to work out that not using their names makes it obvious they’re lying, but I guess you’re only marginally less stupid than other shitrats. Now, that was enough talking, let’s get started.”
…
Far away on a business trip, a few days later
…
“I never knew you had a fluffy.”
“I just got him recently,” Smarty’s daddeh replied. “He’s been so well-behaved, too. I don’t know much about fluffies, but he’s been a perfect little angel.”
“Huh. Can’t say that’s been my experience with them, but good for you. What’s his name?”
“Smarty.”
“You named your fluffy smarty?”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“Why would you name a fluffy that?”
“I got him after Halloween and he got into a candy bucket and the only type of candy he didn’t try to eat was the smarties candies. I thought it was funny. Why, is something wrong?”
…
Present day
…
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
Part One
What kind of owner doesn’t tell the daycare/boarding house what their fluffy is named? The daycare/boarding house should have that on paper. Extremely bad on both fronts. 
In this case it was actually due to an employee not reading the documents before interacting with Smarty, rather than documentation not existing. It just felt like it’d bog the story down to go into that much detail.
Hilarious and cruel concept
I love it 
Sort of figured when I thought about it again. That employee will cause the daycare a massive amount of money for damage of property. Maybe not physical damage but the fluffy will be beyond repair from the trauma. And it was such a well-behaved darling to begin with. 
I actually based it on the post about showing how a smarty is a smarty before making characters treat it like a smarty. I thought it’d be a funny way to contribute to the conversation about how a fluffy calling itself smarty, even with no other bad behavior, is enough for many stories to treat them as the villain.
Guess someone will be fired. Poor Smarty.
Oh if someone did that to my pet, I’d burn their house down. Quarantine the smarty? Sure. Saying it’s a bad fluffy? Bruh. But ok. Damaging the property? You fucking retard? Lawsuit immediately
You’re a mean monster ;-; poor fluffle
Yes, massive lawsuits incomming.
Poor sweet fluff, broken and paying for the sins of smarties past.
Sequel soon? This has my interest
A bit of an explanation into why what happened did.
The daycare mostly used the disposal method of dealing with smarties because it’s easier to deal with one smarty (who are already protected under law even less than normal fluffies) dying than it is to explain to one or more other fluffy owners why a smarty was allowed near their fluffies, especially if those fluffies start showing smarty-like symptoms or suffer some kind of injury as a result.
Additionally, in many headcanon, including my own for the pre-fluffy-rights era, while owned fluffies are treated as property and damage to them is legal liability, non-pillowed smarties are not given any such protection, much like how rabid animals are treated.
So essentially, the employee in question believed she was justified in terms of both company policy and the law. Morally, it’s an entirely different issue, but after seeing the damage a bad smarty can do, particularly to foals, she was primarily focused on protecting the innocent even at the cost of the guilty.
As for why the daycare tortures smarties before they dispose of them, it’s mostly a perk for the more abuse-minded employees so they can vent stress in a way that won’t get the daycare sued. The recording of the abuse serves a purpose as well. For owners who wanted the smarty to suffer, it makes them understand what they missed out on being able to do themselves, while for owners who care for the smarty, it illustrates why they shouldn’t have placed the smarty in the daycare in the first place. The daycare is attempting to disincentive-ize smarty owners from putting the far-more-valuable normal fluffies at risk with smarty exposure.
It should be noted that the daycare policy for what they do with non-pillowed smarties was in the fine print of the standard contract for placing your fluffies in the daycare. That will definitely keep owners from placing a smarty there if they don’t want it harmed, because everyone totally reads the fine print.
ah, well in that case it’s a-ok! not morally, but oh well
Morals? In my cartoon-based fake-horse fanfiction? Hell naw!
lol true
Lol such tragic irony