SOON MUMMAH SPECIALS
A FluffMart Anthology
Chapter Five: Princess
25 year old Justin Matheney’s eyes bulged when he saw the crowd gathered around the entrance to his store. He straightened his gold bowtie as he walked down the sidewalk from the employee parking lot to start his shift.
It wasn’t often that the young Assistant Manager worked the same shift as Joyce, the middle aged GM at the SouthPark FluffMart store, but he knew that this was a special day. The Day of the Raffle.
SouthPark Mall attracted a higher end clientele than any other mall in the Charlotte area. Included among its stores are Nordstrom, Brooks Brothers, and other premium stores at which one tends to find items for more discerning customers. As a result, the FluffMart located there had by far the highest margins of any store in the district, if not the highest gross sales.
Justin pushed his way to the front door, excusing himself as he bumped several oblivious customers on the way. He manually unlocked the door and turned the latch behind him. The store’s lights were already on, and Joyce stood looking into one of the floor pens with a wicked grin on her face.
“Jesus, Joyce, how many tickets did you sell for this raffle?”
“A hundred. At a hundred dollars apiece. Not bad, considering the ‘winner’ still has to shell out five grand on the prize pack. A fifteen thousand dollar ring. Let Jack chew on that.”
Justin only nodded. He knew about his manager’s rivalry with her counterpart in University City—it galled her that she could never quite catch up to his store’s sales volume—and he knew that Joyce would never let her rival hear the end of this.
Once he had finished turning on the computers and straightening the bookshelf, he walked over to have a look for himself at the new arrival his manager had been admiring since he walked in.
A white fluffy slept soundly on the finest bed that FluffMart offered. She had wings and a horn the same color as her fluff, and a pastel rainbow cascaded down her neck and tail. On her head was a golden tiara to complete the image.
“Holy shit, Joyce. It really is a Princess Celestia fluffy.”
The SouthPark store was used to getting only the best of the best from its vendors, and that meant Joyce kept a high quality control standard. Like all the other stores, this store usually only sold foals. Unlike all the other stores, this location turned down everything that wasn’t a designer or an alicorn, or some kind of special color scheme. It could be an earthie as long as it had Carolina Panthers or Charlotte Hornets colors—but those were the only foals that sold for under $100 at SouthPark, so Joyce would only take those in during the respective team’s season.
But some fluffies were so rare that not even SouthPark could get them in. On occasion, a customer would walk in and ask for a My Little Pony designer foal: the store associate would simply take the customer’s name and phone number, and promise to call if one ever arrived. Some of the names listed under Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle had been there for several years.
There was good reason for this: Hasbio’s unexpected halt in fluffy pony development (owing to the product’s…premature release) meant that the company hadn’t had time to perfect the biotoy’s genetic code. Hasbio’s scientists managed to create the code allowing a fluffy to have MLP colors, and they succeeded in making them extremely rare—but the instances in which that happened would be extremely random. As a result, only three Princess Celestia foals had been born nationwide in the past year. One of them now lay pregnant and resting in Justin’s store, awaiting her new owner.
“Tell me again: how the hell did you manage to get her?”
Joyce shrugged. “The specialty breeder had intended to keep her and breed her himself—I had Sam tell him that he could either keep her and do business elsewhere, or he could sell her to us for $1500 and we’d be happy to keep buying a hundred percent of his foals.”
Justin cringed. “Damn, you’re cold blooded.”
The older manager condescendingly patted him on the cheek. “That’s why corporate loves me, dear. You’ve got to keep your vendors under your thumb and keep your customers satisfied. Perfect those abilities, and you’ll be a VP one day. I’m sure of it.
Princess Celestia opened her eyes, yawned, and shook her brightly-colored mane. All around her the world was bright, and she nearly made scaredy-poopies when suddenly the clamor of a hundred human voices and their two hundred not-hooves began. The nice lady who put her down on the soft beddie raised her two front not-hooves to calm everyone down.
“First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who came out today to take part in this rare opportunity. You all can take the next ten minutes to come by and see the one-of-a-kind Princess Celestia Soon-Mummah Special. Justin and I will be here to answer any questions you have about the deluxe prize package that the lucky winner will take home along with her!”
The alicorn’s ears perked. Home? She was going home? That must mean that one of the people here must be her new daddy! She stood up on all four legs and beamed at the crowd.
“Hewwo, nice mistahs! Hewwo, nice wadies! Be nyu mummahs an daddehs fo Pwincess Cewestia?”
Her question made the cacophony reach a fever pitch. Both the nice lady and the nice mister who worked there were bombarded with questions, and many more humans than Princess Celestia could count crowded around her pen. Many of them had their phones out, flashing bright lights in her eyes. She covered them with her hooves and shuddered, hoping that her new daddy would come and whisk her away from the noise.
A lanky, brown-haired teenager stood near the doorway amid the crowd. The chirping and huu huuing of foals in the bargain bin to his left was nearly drowned out by the mass of humanity that chattered excitedly as they waited for the Princess Celestia raffle. He clutched his ticket in his sweaty right palm and hoped that luck was on his side.
Addison Leonard had just started his junior year of high school. He was an average student in most subjects, but excelled in art—specifically in the area of textiles. He had won several student art competitions, and last year won a national award for a fabric he had designed himself. The teenager dreamed of studying fibers at Savannah College of Art and Design after graduating, but his father was firmly set against it. To him, his son’s artistic ability was a hobby, and not worth the $35,000 in annual tuition.
For that reason, Addison took to mowing lawns all summer. He had saved up his earnings, hoping that he would have enough between his savings and scholarships to thumb his nose at good ol’ dad. Reality set in about mid-July, however, and he knew that he would need to do more than cut Mrs. Gustafson’s grass on a weekly basis to make up the difference.
The Celestia raffle could be his salvation. Sure, winning the fluffy would cost him most of what he had in the bank, but he knew he could triple his money by selling her foals—both of the other Celestias that had been born this year were now breeders, and each of them had birthed Fluffyshy foals, Pinkie Pies, and other MLP colors. One of them even had a Twilight Sparkle alicorn!
His plan was to hand-raise the foals to maturity and then sell them off to breeders (or some of the snobbish assholes in his neighborhood who were always looking for their next status-symbol purchase). If it ended up being too much trouble, he could always flog off Celestia for a little extra cash.
He looked past the people in front of him as everyone became silent. The smartly-dressed lady (who was apparently in charge of this affair) lowered her hands and began to speak.
“Again, thank you all for coming today. Justin will be back with the drum in just a moment, and we’ll bring the suspense to a close. Ah, here he is now.”
Addison saw a young black man wearing a bowtie and glasses push a cart into the room with a brass raffle drum sitting on top. Inside the drum was a pile of tiny blue pieces of paper, each identical to the one the teen held in his hand. He looked down at the number on his ticket again, confirming the number that he already had memorized in his head.
He watched as the man with the bowtie started turning the drum’s handle. The tickets shuffled and fluttered in the brass cage. Eventually, the drum came to a stop, and the lady unlatched the little door and pulled out a piece of paper. Holding it up in front of her face, she announced the winning number.
“The lucky winner is: 00013354.”
A low mutter came over the room as everyone who didn’t have their tickets in hand shuffled through their pockets and purses. They needn’t have bothered.
Once he came out of his momentary stupor, Addison looked down at his ticket one more time to be sure that he remembered his number correctly.
00013354
Oh my god, I WON!
Of course, that last bit was intended for Addison’s mind only, but he had inadvertently shouted it so the whole store (and perhaps the first customers to Crate and Barrel across the parking lot) could hear. Several of the good losers around him chuckled, and some even patted him on the back and congratulated him. Most of the entrants, on the other hand, were upset at being out a hundred dollars and simply walked out of the store. The teenager would remember the next ten minutes only as a blur—in that time, he had turned in his cashier’s check, claimed his prize pack and his fluffy, and buckled the latter into her safety harness. The radiant alicorn sang all the way home.
Joyce rang up the last customer as Justin swept up all of the littered tickets and other trash that the horde left behind. In addition to the $15,000 the store made from the Princess Celestia sale, several customers bought foals and foal accessories. One raffle loser bought a monochrome black alicorn Soon-Mummah Special and another $1,200 in accessories. Clearly, the event had been a rousing success.
The assistant manager shook his head as the last customer walked out the door. “To think, a sixteen year old kid won the raffle! What the hell’s a kid like that going to do with a five-grand fluffy?”
Joyce shrugged. “Not really my problem, is it? We’ve got his money, he’s got his fluffy—everyone comes away satisfied.”
Justin shook his head again. His mother would have killed him for spending that much money on anything—if he had that much money in the first place. These South Park people had more money than brains.
“Mummah wuv babbehs, babbehs wuv mummah,
dwink wots of miwkies, gwow up big an’ stwong!”
“Jesus Christ, is it going to do that all the time?”
Addison rolled his eyes as he set up Princess Celestia’s food and water bowls. His father stood in the saferoom door with his arms crossed, shaking his head at his son’s apparent lunacy.
On this episode of Babies!: Buttercup’s foals go exploring in their new playhouse!
“Hee hee! Pwincess Cewestia wuv babbehs!”
But her little yellow unicorn has other ideas!
“Nuuuu, babbeh! Nu weave safewoom!”
“It’s true then. A fool and his money are soon parted.”
“Dad, just stop. The fluffy’s an investment. I’d have thought you’d be happy that I was thinking more like your banker buddies. The return on this is going to be really high.”
“An investment? Kid, securities are an investment. Cattle futures are an investment. Fluffy ponies are a children’s toy at best—a plague on society at worst.”
The fluffy, now distracted from her FluffTV program, turned to Mr. Leonard indignantly. “Pwincess Cewestia nu am toysie! Am awive!”
The man’s jaw hung open. His son turned and walked out of the saferoom, closing the door behind him.
“The least you could do is not upset her.”
“Upset her? It’s a shitrat, son. Her greatest value is in making manure for your mother’s garden.”
“Just wait and see. When I sell her foals for three times what I paid for her, you’ll be begging to invest the stud fee on her next litter.”
At this, Karl Leonard burst out laughing. As a senior CPA with one of Charlotte’s biggest accounting firms, $5,000 was chump change. A monthly payment on his kids’ private school education. But he thought he had taught his older child better.
“Addison, you’re sixteen years old. When I was your age, I wrecked your grandpa’s car and had to pay that shit off myself. It sucked. I had hoped you would learn from my mistakes.”
“Hang on, hang on…you’re comparing wrecking a car while trying to impress a girl with my buying an extremely rare animal that is going to reproduce its value by at least three times?”
“No, I’m saying that we all make stupid mistakes. That being said, mine only cost half as much as yours. And there was a lot less fertilizer involved.”
“Whatever, dad. In two years I’ll be in Savannah—out of your hair—and you won’t have to worry about my stupid mistakes.”
Karl sighed. “So that’s what this is about? Savannah? Listen, kid. Just because I want you to go to school for something useful doesn’t mean—“
“Useful? Dad, I’m good at working with fibers. If you can’t support that, then I don’t need your money for school.”
“Oh, you don’t? Then I guess my offer’s off the table. Even if you come to your senses and decide to study for a real career, you can pay for it yourself. Since you’re the big investor now.”
“Daaadeeeeeh! Pwincess Cewestia am hungwy! Can haf sketties nao?”
“You’d better get in there. Your investment is calling.”
Addison rolled his eyes and slammed the door behind him as he entered the saferoom. The argument was a long time coming, but he was relieved that it was done now. Maybe his dad would come to respect his decision.
Maybe not.
But that was neither here nor there. He opened a can of Babbeh Wuv Fortified Spaghetti for Pregnant and Lactating Mares and poured it into the fluffy’s dish. She thanked him and quickly devoured the whole bowl, and then went back to watching Babies!.
Princess Celestia was perfectly content with life in her new saferoom. Daddeh spent lots of time with her and always gave her the bestest sketties. Except when he was at ‘skoow’. Dummeh skoow.
Daddeh even had a little sister who came in and brushed her pretty mane and pretty tail! Mummah Kinsee told her all about a thing on the TeeBee called “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic”. It was all about ponies, and one of them looked just like her! She was even called Princess Celestia! That was her favorite pony.
It wasn’t long before she got too big to run and play with Daddeh and Kinsee. It made her sad that her leggies just flailed around in the air, but Daddeh and Kinsee didn’t seem to mind. They still petted her, brushed her, watched TeeBee with her, and gave her all the sketties she could want. She was treated like a princess—which she was.
One day, Daddeh came home while she and Daddeh’s sister were watching My Little Pony after school. He looked more tired than usual, and seemed upset.
“Daddeh haf saddies? Wan huggies fwom Pwincess Cewestia?”
He took her up on the offer, and sat down next to the brightly-colored alicorn. Princess loved scratchies behind her hear-places—even though it made one of her airborne back leggies kick uncontrollably. She almost didn’t hear her Daddeh sigh.
“What’s got up your butt?”
“Shut up, McKenzie. I bombed another Trig test this afternoon.”
The little girl cackled. “Oooooh. When dad gets home, you’re gonna be in trou-bllllle!”
“Fuck off. I’m not telling him, and you’re not saying anything either!”
Princess Celestia cringed at her Daddeh’s use of the hurtie-word. Mummah Kinsee looked hurt, too.
“Don’t talk to me like that, or you’ll get in more trouble with dad!”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“What’re you gonna do about it?”
“If you go and tattle to dad, you’ll get in trouble for tattling. On top of that, you won’t be allowed to come down and see Princess Celestia anymore.”
gasp “He wouldn’t do that!”
“That’s not his call to make. It’s mine, because she’s my fluffy. And that means you couldn’t come play with her foals after they’re born, too.”
McKenzie had tears in her eyes. “Ok, I won’t tell! Please let me keep playing with Celestia and her babies!”
“As long as you behave yourself.”
The trio remained silent for the rest of the episode, in which Celestia gave Twilight Sparkle advice about how to deal with Starlight. When it was over, McKenzie changed the channel back to FluffTV for Fluffy Sing-Along. Princess Celestia started singing along with the Leggies Song, and the little girl turned to her brother.
“Addison, are you sure you want to sell all of her foals?”
What? Sell her babies?
gasp “Whuaaa?!? Nu, daddeh! Pwincess Cewestia nee’ babbehs fo wuv an huggies! An babbehs nee’ mummah fo miwkies an huggies an wuv an miwkies!”
“Princess, shut up! McKenzie, we’re not going to have this conversation in front of her.”
“Why not? They’re her babies—doesn’t she have a right to know? Doesn’t she get a say?”
“Goddammit, McKenzie,” Addison yelled as he saw his rare fluffy burst into tears. “We are not doing this in front of her! Come on, we’re taking this outside.”
McKenzie stomped off after her brother. “At least let me have a Twilight Sparkle if she has one! She’s my favorite!”
Princess Celestia continued to sob into her front hooves as the door slammed. Not even the bouncy Litterbox Song on Fluffy Sing-Along could distract from her heart-hurties. Daddeh really wanted to take her babies away? How horrible! Babies were the best thing in the whole world. Why would Daddeh take that from her?
She cried, desperately, until she felt her foals kicking in her tummy. She could just barely roll over on her side, but none of her leggies could reach to give them huggies. That gave her even more heart-hurties.
“Nu wowwy, babbehs. When babbehs come, daddeh wiww see dat babbehs am gud babbehs, an gif wotsa huggies an wuv! Den daddeh nu take babbehs fwom mummah. Mummah an daddeh an mummah Kinsee an mummah’s babbehs wiww aww wive in pwetty howsie an num sketties an wun an pway an gif huggies aww da time.”
gurgle
“Nuuuuuu! Daddeh! Pwincess Cewestia nee’ make poopies! Nee’ hewp fo make gud poopies in da wittahbawks!”
But neither of the humans could hear her. They were too busy screaming at each other in the hallway.
FRRRRRRRP
Two weeks later, Addison got home from school. Most of the kids his age who lived in his neighborhood had cars, but he rode the bus home every day. His dad told him outright that he wouldn’t buy him a car until he could pay the insurance, and made sure to sneak in a barb about how he could afford insurance if he wasn’t so busy investing in shitrats.
It was Friday evening, and all four Leonards sat down to a family dinner for the first time in a week. Sharon Leonard was a Nurse Administrator at a nearby hospital—between her schedule and her husband’s, family time was hard to find.
Addison sat uncomfortably in his chair. He had managed a C on that afternoon’s Trigonometry test, but was still teetering between a D and an F in the class. Failing at the semester’s halfway point would likely mean withdrawal of permission to go to the big Art Show in Raleigh next month. He was hoping to exhibit (and maybe sell) a couple of pieces.
“Sharon, this steak is fantastic. Where did you get these?”
“There’s a new meat market across from the hospital. Addy, how was school today?”
Both he and his father cringed at his mother’s use of the pet name. “It was ok, I guess. Mrs. Samuels thinks that cotton/pony blend I made last week could win at Nationals this spring.”
“Wow! Has anyone ever won two years in a row?”
“I don’t think so. Still, the most important thing—“
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE! BIGGEST POOPIES!”
Addison’s face blanched. He looked at his father across the table, who just rubbed his eyes.
“Go find out what she wants. We can all have dinner together next Friday.”
The boy ran out of the room and down the stairs, where his white fluffy pony lay in tears.
“Am sowwy, daddeh. Pwincess Cewestia nu mean make big poopies aww ova wawm nestie ‘gain. HNNNNNNNNNNG!”
Oh shit, she’s in labor. “It’s ok, Princess. Daddy’s not mad. I think your babies are coming!”
Her eyes brightened immediately. “Weawwy? Babbehs am comin? HuwwaaaaaHNNNNNNNNNNG!”
splort
chirp**chirp
“Daddeh, dat sound wike babbeh! Gif babbeh tu mummah!”
Addison reached back behind the dam and picked up the newborn foal. It was completely covered in Princess’ shit, so he started to clean it with a warm, wet towel.
chirp**chirp
No.
It wasn’t covered in shit.
It was the color of shit.
“Ah, fuck,” he said, as the foal grasped his thumb between its front hooves and began to suckle his finger. He handed the filly off to its mother, who cleaned it with her tongue.
“Huu huu, nu taste pwetty! Am gud babbeh…HNNNNNNNNG!”
splort
chirp
Oh my god. Another shit brown one.
He didn’t bother using the towel on the second foal. Instead, he handed—no, tossed—the brown pegasus colt in front of its mother.
“Pwetty babbeh—” lick “haf pwetty wingies.” lick “Am gud babbeh.”
Well, that’s just the first two. She could have up to six more.
“HNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGHHHH!”
SPLORT
chirp
chirp**chirp
Holy fuck, no. This can’t be happening.
splort
chirp**chirp
By the time Princess Celestia had gone back to her original size, she had shat out seven writhing, chirping shit-nuggets. Addison was at a loss for words. Princess was as happy as could be.
“Mummah wuv babbehs,
babbehs wuv mummah,
dwink wots of miwkies,
gwow up big an’ stwong!”
Ten year old McKenzie Leonard was a straight-A student at her elementary school. She had the same interests as most girls her age, and had been in dance school in the evenings since she was two. The one thing she wanted, more than anything, was a fluffy pony.
Her parents had refused to buy her one, mainly because they didn’t feel she could handle the responsibility, and neither of them was around often enough to care for a pet. Still, she was a well-behaved child, which is why she wasn’t resentful when her mother gave Addison her blessing to convert the downstairs bonus room into a saferoom and buy a fluffy with his own money.
For his part, her brother had been gracious in letting her play with Princess Celestia. They played, sang, and watched lots of TV together. McKenzie almost couldn’t contain herself at the dinner table after Addison had rushed off to help the alicorn dam deliver her foals.
“For God’s sake, McKenzie, you look like you’re about to pee yourself. What is it?”
“Daddy, can we go down and see Princess Celestia’s babies? Please, please?!?”
Sighing, Karl put his napkin on his plate and stood up. “I guess I’m done anyway. Please excuse us, Sharon. We’ve got vermin to check on.”
Sharon furrowed her eyebrows. “Karl, you go down there and be nice. Addison tries really hard to please you, and you’re so hard on him.”
Throwing up his hands, the man replied, “I promise! I promise I’ll be polite.”
The exuberant little girl rushed down the stairs, while her reluctant father trailed behind. McKenzie threw open the saferoom door and saw Princess Celestia sitting on her haunches and cradling two little brown foals in her front hooves. Four more scrabbled around to get to the dam’s engorged teats, and a seventh slept peacefully in her tail fluff.
“Awww…aren’t they so cute!”
The mare beamed proudly at the little girl. “Fankoo, Mummah Kinsee! Am aww gud babbehs!”
Karl entered the room and saw the white fluffy with the pastel rainbow mane, surrounded by brown foals. Four were earthies, two were pegasi, and one was a unicorn. Damn, not only shit colors, but not one of them has both a horn and wings. That’s some shitty luck. Turning to his right, he saw his son sitting against the wall with his head in his hands.
“I don’t suppose now’s the time to tell you I won’t be investing a stud fee in her next litter?”
Addison looked up at his father. His eyes were red with tears. “Dad, I tried. I really tried to do something right for once.”
Feeling pity for the teenager, Karl knelt down and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know, son. And, for what it’s worth, it wasn’t a terrible idea. You made a judgment call. It just happened to turn out exceptionally badly.”
“What am I going to do, dad? Seven foals, and every one of them is worthless.”
“Oh, I dunno. I wonder if your cousin’s boyfriend still has that ball python…”
“Dad! Not now.”
The boy and his dad sat for some time. Neither of them said another word while McKenzie and Princess Celestia cooed over the foals.
brrrrbrrrrbrrrrbrrrrbrrrrbrrrrbrrrr
The Monday morning alarm was particularly unpleasant today. Addison got very little sleep over the weekend. Five thousand dollars, down the shitter.
Speaking of shit, Princess was just as enamored by her foals as ever, but could barely make enough milk to feed them all. He had to drive over to FluffMart on Saturday to buy her more spaghetti, since he had already used up the case that came with the prize pack.
He daydreamed at school about how to best cut his losses. He could always sell Princess Celestia to a collector—not to a breeder, now, given her record—and make about a thousand dollars. If he was lucky. The foals were completely worthless. The best he could do was maybe a dollar apiece. But you could grab a shit-brown foal at a shelter for that.
It wasn’t until the last period of the day—art class—that he stumbled upon a solution. From that moment, he couldn’t wait to get home and start the project. Spanish homework be damned.
“Hewwo, daddeh! Wook, babbehs am wunnin!”
Addison could see that several of the foals were trying to shuffle on their unsteady legs. Apparently this was what Princess was talking about.
“What am boxie fow, daddeh?”
“Daddy wants to see your babies, Princess Celestia. I have special plans for them.”
Horrified, the dam swept her foals underneath her. “Nuuuu, daddeh! Nu take babbehs! Nu take babbehs! Babbehs nee mummah!”
“Shut up, Princess! I’m going to bring them right back. I promise.”
The mare regarded him warily. It was entirely possible that she remembered the conversation he had with McKenzie a couple of weeks before. “Otay, daddeh. Daddeh pwomise tu gif babbehs back to mummah.”
He quickly picked up the foals and set each of them in the box. There were tiny dividers and several of the foals chirped for huggies, but they could not reach each other. Once all of the babies were contained, he set off for his room.
Addison had a large artist’s desk—a gift from his grandmother—on which he did most of his intricate work. This would be his most delicate job to date.
He picked up one of the pegasus foals first. It chirped with fear, as the boy wasn’t entirely gentle. In his right hand, he held a tiny brush.
The teenager was no stranger to dyeing fibers. He had done so many times in creating his artwork. The problem here was that the fluffy foals were living creatures—yet none of the animal hair dyes and human hair dyes he could find online were the colors he needed.
Oh well. Any port in a storm.
After putting on his gloves and facemask, Addison dipped the brush into the yellow dye. The foal continued to chirp as he stroked it gently with the brush. He feared that one or more of them would die from the stress of being handled in this way, but soon he could tell that the dyes were taking, and that the filly—although afraid—had survived the Fluffyshy conversion.
“Hmmm…let’s get the hard one out of the way,” he said, as he picked up the other pegasus. This one would be a challenge, especially in the polychromatic mane.
brush brush brush
chirp**chirp screeeeeeeeeeeee!
Man, he sounds pissed. “Shhhhh. Hold on, little guy. I promise it’ll all be over soon.”
brush brush brush
Princess Celestia waited nervously for daddeh to return with her babies. He was taking a long time doing whatever it was. Then, a thought crossed her mind.
What if her daddeh had lied to her, and was taking her babies away forever and ever?
She shook her pastel mane and pushed the thought out of her head. Surely not! Daddeh loved her more than anything else in the whole wide world! He always fed her, and petted her, and played with her…
CREEEEAK
The white alicorn perked her head up. Through the door came daddeh, still carrying the box he held before. Inside, she could hear all of her foals chirping.
chirp**chirp
chirp chirp**chirp
“Babbehs! Mummah am hewe, babbehs! Nu cwy! Pwease daddeh, gif babbehs tu mummah!”
“Of course. Here you go.”
Daddeh handed her each foal one by one. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“Daddeh…what du wif babbehs? Wai babbehs nu smeww pwetty?”
“What are you talking about, Princess? I made your babies look pretty! Look, here’s a Fluttershy, here’s a Rainbow Dash, here’s a Rarity—“
“Babbehs nu smeww pwetty! Fankoo fow make babbehs wook pwetty, an nu am poopie-cowows nu mowe, bu’ babbehs nu smeww pwetty!”
“Don’t you be ungrateful. That was hard fucking work. They should be dry now, so it’s safe for them to touch you. I’m sure they’re hungry.”
Princess shuddered as her daddeh used another hurtie-word, but then she nodded. “Hewe, babbehs! Mummah am hewe! Dwink wotsa miwkies fo gwow big an stwong!”
She started licking their feces-stained fluff as daddeh walked out the door and back up the stairs.
The job had apparently been a success. Addison did a little bit of a touch-up job on the Rainbow Dash colt and the Princess Celestia filly, but other than that it appeared that the dye was holding firm. He knew that it would be at least three weeks before the foals were ready to sell, but he was already comparing prices online. It appeared that he was going to make a lot of money.
Even his dad praised his efforts. In fact, at the family dinner that Friday, he announced that an acquaintance of his from one of the banks had a stallion with Luna colors and that he was willing to foot the $200 stud fee himself. Addison had never been more proud than he was right then.
Saturday and Sunday came and went, but the junior didn’t mind getting up on Monday for once. His head was still in the clouds following his victory on Friday night, and not even the news of a failed Spanish test could bring him down.
Mrs. Samuels again praised his cotton/pony blend fabric, which he resolved to duplicate for sale in the upcoming Raleigh Art Show. That should have been the cap to a marvelous day.
Instead, it was the final bright moment in a very dark day. As soon as he opened the front door, he could hear his fluffy screaming.
The white alicorn dam with the pastel mane awakened that morning as she always did. Daddeh gave her the bestest sketties so she could make bestest milkies for her bestest babies, the same way he always did. And together, they all watched FluffTV, since their eyes had all opened.
After the little white unicorn, whom daddeh called “Rarity”, drank her milkies, she looked up into her mother’s pink eyes.
“Mum-mah…”
“Wawity…am tawkie-babbeh! Babbeh am tawkin! Yaaaaaaay! Gud babbeh!” Princess Celestia held her beautiful white filly to her chest and gave her the biggest huggies she could. This was the bestest day ever!
bleargh hack hyurk
Oh, no. Something was wrong.
blechhh
“Nu, Wawity! Nu make sickies wawa hewe! Gu tu wittahbawks!”
The foal seemingly ignored her mummah’s pleas. She continued to retch and gag until all that was left to come out of both her mouth and anus was blood.
hack**bleeeh
“Hewe, babbeh! Mummah wiww gif huggies an make tummeh-huwties gu ‘way!”
But the huggies didn’t fix anything. A few minutes later, the foal choked on her own blood and lay lifelessly in her mother’s hooves.
“Nuuuuuuuu! Nu take foweva sweepies! Nuuuuuuuu!”
bleeeeaaaaagh
Amid the confusion and the sounds of her dying foal, Princess had failed to notice that her Pinkie Pie was doing the exact same thing.
“Nuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!”
The horrible scene before Addison’s eyes made him vomit on the floor. His vomiting, in turn, caused the gore-covered Princess Celestia to shriek and run to him, thinking he was suffering from the same malady that had claimed all seven of her foals. She hugged his leg and sobbed uncontrollably.
He surveyed the room. They’re all dead. Every one of them. And they weren’t just dead—they were destroyed. Each of the foals lay in a puddle of its own blood, and several had blown their innards out through their asses. One had even, quite literally, coughed up a lung.
Princess was hysterical, and the boy couldn’t blame her. It made him ill just to see the aftermath, but she had witnessed the whole gory affair. He walked over and picked up the Dashie foal.
He had to peel it off of the playmat. Its blood had congealed and dried like glue, so it had likely been dead for hours. Its eyes bulged, and both wings were broken—likely from writhing to escape its gruesome fate. As tears welled in his eyes, he pulled a poop-bag from the dispenser on the wall and deposited the dead foal.
A coughing and wheezing came from the far corner of the room—Princess had lost her voice from all the screaming, and had backed herself into a corner for fear of what could happen next. Addison felt a hot tear roll down his cheek. All gone. It’s over. He finished bagging up the dead fluffies and headed upstairs for cleaning supplies.
Daddeh thoroughly cleaned Princess Celestia’s saferoom and gave her all the love he could over the next few days, but the stench of death lay heavy in the house. She physically could not eat more than a couple of bites of the delicious sketties he gave her twice a day. Every night, she woke up screaming from a nightmare of her foals crying out for help—at the end of the dream, she watched them all drown in a sea of blood.
She even stopped making it to the litterbox to make good poopies and peepees. It wasn’t that she tried to be a bad fluffy. She just couldn’t tell when she made no-smell-pretties all over the floor.
Every day when he got home from school, daddeh would come and see her. They gave each other lots of huggies, but the heart-hurties didn’t go away. Even mummah Kinsee seemed on the verge of tears every time she came down for a visit. Princess couldn’t bear to watch My Little Pony anymore. She imagined the pretty ponies on the TeeBee—the ones who looked like her babies—coughing up boo-boo juice and no-smell-pretties, and would go into a catatonic fit.
After several bright-times had passed, something changed. She ran to the saferoom door to greet daddeh after school one day, hugged his leggie, and exclaimed, “Wuv ‘oo, daddeh!” But daddeh didn’t say he loved her back. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all. He just stared at her with a strange look on his face, turned, and walked away.
“Whewe daddeh goin’? Wai nu wan huggies fwom Pwincess Cewestia? Am bad fwuffy? Nu wuv?”
Her daddeh must have had the worsest heart-hurties in the world, because tears streamed down his cheeks as he closed the door behind him.
“Pwincess Cewestia am sowwy fo make wotsa bad poopies! Nu wan be bad fwuffy! Am twy make gud poopies when nee make poopies! Am sowwy! Am sowwy!”
She pounded on the door, but daddeh didn’t come back. Her cries went unheeded, and she eventually shat on the floor, went back to her bed to cry, and shat in her bed again.
Addison thought that Monday was as bad as things would get, but the week had progressively gotten worse. Princess Celestia, who—up until the death of her foals—had always pooped in the litter box and always been a voracious eater, was shitting everywhere and starving herself. Up until now, he had thought that she was grieving for her foals. He hated the idea of shelling out the last little bit of his savings for a fluffy psychologist, but he couldn’t sell her if her mind was broken.
Therein lay his problem. A few minutes ago, he had gone downstairs to check on Princess, like he always did. Her ability to run had gotten worse over the past few days—that, he attributed to exhaustion brought on by lack of sleep. But today, hers was more of a shambling motion, like one of the zombies from Day of the Dead.
The icing on the cake came when she feebly hugged his leg and excitedly proclaimed, [div=00afd7] “Wubble ‘oo, dabbleh!” [/div]
Derped.
She had become derped.
Addison lay on his bed, facing the ceiling, when it all finally clicked. He jumped up and ran to his desk, picking up the bright red textile dye he had used on Rainbow Dash’s mane and tail. On the back was a warning label:
WARNING: All synthetic fabric dyes can irritate skin upon contact. Harmful if inhaled or swallowed. KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN. Side effects of dye ingestion include nausea, vomiting, choking, loss of motor function, loss of bowel control, birth defects, possible brain damage and, in severe cases, death. If you or someone you know is struggling with inhalant abuse, please call 1(877)853-0815. Toll-free, 24 hours a day.
It all made sense. From the very day he dyed the foals’ fluff, Princess started licking them to get the smell off. He had been careful to not use too much, and to make sure the dye was dry before he gave back Princess’ babies. But then he remembered the old saying: “Shit so fragile which is broken by all”.
He even mouthed the words as they passed through his mind. Dyeing the foals was a mistake—one of many he had made. Worst-case scenario, he could have sold the foals for a quarter a piece, and then sold off Princess for a few hundred dollars (at least). But now, the foals were ashes in some biowaste dump somewhere, and his five-thousand dollar fluffy was derped. Worthless.
The despondent teenager collapsed on his bed in a heap. What was he going to do? He had blown damn near everything he had saved over the summer, putting him back at square one. A whole summer’s work—gone.
Addison grabbed the pillow from his bed and walked downstairs.
“Dabbleh! Nu hab sabblies nu mobe? Gib hubblies?” frrrrrrrrrrrrrp
“Hi, Princess. Daddy loves you. You know that, right?”
“Yus, dabbleh! Dabbleh wubb Pwibbess Cebbebblia, an Pwibbess wubb dabbleh!”
“Good. Daddy’s so sorry, Princess.”
“Whu ab dabbleh sobby fo—MMMFFFFF!”
“I’m sorry, Princess. I’m so, so sorry.”
“MMMMFFFF! MMMMMMMFFFFFFF!” frrrrrp
kick kick
“mmmmffff…mmmhhh…”
“Goodbye, Princess Celestia.”
THE END OF CHAPTER FIVE
