SOON MUMMAH SPECIALS
A FluffMart Anthology
Chapter One: Blue
Part Two
Barry sat in his home office, finishing a billing report as he watched his fluffy unicorn dam struggle to stay balanced while nursing her foals.
One, two, three, four, five…oh, right…six. Goddammit, these things are making me stupid by association…. Of course, Blue only knew about five of the foals. Number six was hidden away, and she was totally oblivious.
If he believed that fluffy ponies were good pets—and could be good parents—then surely he would consider Blue to be the best fluffy mother he had ever seen. She fed all of her foals—except the doomed runt, of course. She sang to her babies. She kept them all clean. She even gave them all huggies—er, tried to give them huggies, anyway. Evidently, being a four-legged creature down two legs is a pain in the ass.
But to Barry, that made it all the more fun to watch her suffer.
“Mummah wuv babbehs,
babbehs wuv mummah,
dwink wots of miwkies
gwow up an be stwong!”
Blue’s eyes welled up with tears. She thought about the pretty purple unicorn colt who would never grow up big and strong. For a moment, she could glimpse what he would have looked like—a handsome stallion, tossing his white mane as he chased after a ball. He could have been the leader of his own herd, and had his own special friend, and had lots more pretty babies just like him.
Then the image in her mind changed to one of a tiny purple leggie, red with the blood that drip**dripdripped* down into the half-eaten bowl of spaghetti. And then she remembered.
Bwue nummed da pwetty puwpwe babbeh.
At that moment, her tummy rumbled. She hoped that daddeh would bring her nummies soon, so she wouldn’t num another foal.
chirp peep
Blue shifted her weight so she could see what was bothering her little chirpy baby. A pair of bright green eyes met hers, and she realized that the foal’s eyes were open!
gasp “Wed babbeh haf see-pwaces open! Wed babbeh see mummah? Mummah wuv ‘oo!” She would have hugged her red earthie foal, but she didn’t have all of her leggies. Instead, she settled for patting it with the leggie she did have.
Two days later, Barry walked into the safe room to check in on the fluffies. He noticed that all five of the foals (that she knew she had) had open eyes, and that they were all much more mobile than when they were first born.
Time to play, he thought.
“Hi Blue! Wow, your babies are getting big!”
“Yus, daddeh! Aww Bwue’s babbehs haf see-pwaces nao!”
He reached down to gently pet the amputee mare. “That’s great, Blue. Say…do you think your babies might like to try playing with toys now?”
Blue looked uncertain.“Mummah nu kno…babbehs stiww am onwy wittwe chiwpeh-babbehs…
“Come on, sweetie. You trust daddy, right? What if daddy stays here and helps the foals play?”
Convinced, the dam nodded her head. “Otay, daddeh. Fankoo fow hewp pway wif babbehs!”
Barry opened the saferoom closet and got out a pair of foal-safe balls, a set of stacking rings, and some foal-sized blocks. He sat down next to the fluffy nest and rolled a ball over next to the little gray pegasus foal. The winged foal peeped as the ball touched her front legs, but then nosed it back towards her owner. She took a couple of steps forward, and then bopped the ball with her hoof. At that point, she started to get the idea and bounded after the ball, her wings fluttering with every step.
He gave the other ball to the red earthie, who batted it back and forth with the green earthie in an apparent attempt to play “catch”. The foals chirped excitedly as the ball rolled around on the floor. Barry busied himself with stacking blocks near the food and water dishes with Blue’s red and brown unicorns. Every time daddy stacked three or four blocks, the foals would knock them down and chirp in a way that reminded Barry of giggling.
sniff**sniff “Hey, Blue, do you smell that?”
“Smeww what, daddeh? Bwue smeww babbehs, an daddeh, an da wittahbawks—“
“No, no…not like that. This is something…different. It smells like it’s coming from your bed.” He got up from playing with the unicorns and walked over to the fluffy nest, where Blue lay on her side. He picked the dam up and set her on the hard floor, focusing his attention on her rumpled blanket.
Several years ago, Fluffs-R-Us discontinued their line of “Jus Wike Mummah” fluffy blankets. Made from the shorn fluff of farm-raised ponies, they were thick, comfortable, and retained moisture and odors in the event of an “accident”. Customers loved the items, and bought them in huge quantities—they were one of the chain’s top selling accessories, behind only balls, blocks, and sorry sticks—because they were the perfect item for calming both scared foals and restless adult fluffies. It was the next best thing to having a fluffpile, right in your own home!
Ultimately, there were two reasons for the blankets’ downfall. First of all, videos went viral online of the brand’s biggest supplier (a farm in Missouri) torturing fluffies. Hugboxers—who represented as much as half of the item’s customer base—were outraged, and returned the blankets to the store en masse. Second, they were found to be a leading cause of “forever sleepies” in young foals. Long story short, the things were just too real and too comfortable.
Barry gently picked up the blanket. It was an “extra-large”, so he had rolled up both sides to make it fit in Blue’s bed. Now, it was time to unroll one side. He was careful in the task: slowly…slowly…
plop
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
“Oh my GOD!!!”
Lying on the floor in front of Blue was a tiny blue unicorn foal—the same color as her mother. The baby had obviously been dead for days, suffocated under both the thick blanket and her mother’s weight.
“NUUUUUUUUUU! SCREEEEEE! SCREEEEEEE!” The mare scrambled her hooves, trying unsuccessfully to escape the horrific sight of her decaying foal. She managed only to scoot herself around in a circle, so that she ended up facing the pitiful creature anyway.
“God—fucking—dammit, Blue! How many of your babies have to die?”, he said, picking up the five remaining foals. “I’m not sure that you’re capable of caring for foals. Maybe daddy should send them away to a better home, where they’ll get huggies and love, and not forever sleepies!”
In tears, the mare pleaded,“Nu, daddeh, pwease nu take babbehs ‘way! Bwue wuv babbehs! Bwue nu kno dat babbeh am foweva sweepies unda da nestie! Pwease gif babbehs back tu Bwue fo miwkies an huggies an wuv!”
Barry sighed. This is too fucking easy. “Ok, Blue. You can keep your babies. But you know what happens if one of your babies gets hurties or forever sleepies, right?”
The dam’s eyes widened in horror. “Nuuuuu, daddeh! Pwease nu take Bwue’s weggie! Bwue nu haf wotsa weggies weft!”
He shrugged. “Well, Blue—it’s either hurties for you, or ‘bye-bye, babies’. You choose.”
The unicorn thought momentarily, but the pull of her foals—who were still in Barry’s arms and chirping madly—was too great.
“Daddeh…take Bwue’s weggie,” the mare said, sadly. Nu wan be mummah-nu-mowe.”
The man nodded, then set the five living foals down on the floor, next to the set of blocks. The unicorns quickly went back to their play, eager to show their brother and sisters how. Cradling Blue in his arms, he carried the mare out of the saferoom and down to the garage for her punishment.
He set the fluffy down on the workbench, not bothering to hold her down like the last time. “You know, Blue. It seems to me that you didn’t even notice that your baby was missing. I don’t think I’ll take your leggie this time.”
Blue sniffed. “Daddeh…nu take weggie? Fankoo, daddeh.”
“You’re welcome. I figured I’d go for something more symbolic. You didn’t miss your baby—I don’t think you’d miss your tail, either.”
The dam panicked. “Nuuuuuuu! Nu take pwetty taiw! Taiw am onwy taiw dat Bwue haf!”
Barry reached for the pruning shears, which were hanging on the wall—a big, two-handed set for cutting small tree branches. He chuckled a little watching the mare turn herself around and around in circles in a feeble escape attempt. All he had to do was put an elbow down on her torso to still her enough for the job, and then
snip
“SCREEEEEEEEEE! HUU HUUUUUU!”
He picked up the blue tail with the long, white, stringy fluff and swished it a couple of times. Then, pulling the old blanket out of his back pocket, he rolled the tail up and pitched it into the garbage can.
“Nuuuuuuu! Pwease, daddeh, gif back pwetty taiw! Gif back! GIF BAAAAAACK! Huu huuuuuuu…”
Ignoring the unicorn’s tearful blubbering, he picked her up and carried her like a football back to the saferoom. As he walked down the hallway, he heard the cacophony of frightened foals.
As soon as he stepped around the corner, he realized everything had gone as planned. The two unicorns and the two earthies ran around madly, unsure of what to do. The gray pegasus filly floated—ass end up—from the water bowl. The stair-stepped blocks he had built up to the bowl’s rim remained intact, and the winged baby’s newfound curiosity had gotten the best of her.
“NUUUUUUUUUU! Am onwy wingie-babbeh dat mummah haf! Nu take foweva sweepies!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Blue! I leave the saferoom for five minutes, and another one of your foals croaks! You still want another chance to keep your babies?”
The dam nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Well, you know what it’ll cost you.” He started back to the garage, with the fluffy still under his arm.
Daddy laid Blue down in her soft bed. It wasn’t nearly as soft now that the blanket was gone, but the meanie blanket had nummed her foal! Silently, she cried for her two new dead babies as daddy cleaned up their bodies and the mess they left behind. When he was done, he gave her a sad, backward glance, and walked out of the saferoom, shutting her door behind her.
As soon as the door clicked, Blue began to wail. She wailed so loudly that her foals started chirping in fear again. The heart-hurties were too much to bear.
Bwue am wowsest mummah evah! Pwetty-wike-mummah-babbeh haf foweva sweepies, an onwy-wingie-babbeh haf foweva sweepies…babbehs am fo huggies an wuv, nu fo foweva sweepies! Even worse, her daddy had taken her other front leggie because she couldn’t take care of her foals—now, she was a dummy, one-leggie fluffy! The pains in both her left front stump and the place where her tail used to be were still fresh, and wiggling in any direction caused her whole body to sting.
But then she remembered the look her daddy had on his face when he left the saferoom. His heart-hurties were the worsest things imaginable! Fluffies were supposed to bring their owners heart-happies and joy, and when they had babies, the babies were supposed to give huggies and love all of the time! But because she was a stupid, dummy fluffy who gave her babies forever sleepies, she went against everything that fluffy ponies were for.
“Bwue am wowsest fwuffy eva! Huuu huuuuuuuuu…wan die…”
chirp “mum-mah…hu…hug-gies…”
Blue looked down to see her brown pointy-baby walking towards her. She may have been the color of poopies, but she loved him anyway. Besides, it’s not like she had many babies left…
“hug-gies…” The little foal raised its front hooves and snuggled in Blue’s fluff. The unicorn dam tried to give huggies back, but then remembered that both of her front leggies were gone. She began to wail again.
“Going to have to draw this to a close soon. Can’t have a bunch of ‘tawkie-babbehs’ running around,” Barry said to no one in particular. He sat in his office, mulling over his next move. So far, Blue had been too stupid to piece together that it was his fault that half of her babies were dead, and he planned to keep it that way. But he needed to make sure that the foals were all out of the picture before they were weaned.
He decided to make short work of two more of the foals, but he would give her a couple of days. She might manage to off one herself by then.
Three days later, Blue slept uncomfortably—as usual—in her bed. Her four foals played while she slept. The two unicorns were now able to stack blocks by themselves, and could get their tower up to three before it crashed. Of course, when it did, they merely giggled and started over.
The red and green earthies cackled as they chased a ball together across the saferoom. It caromed off of the back wall and bounced back towards the door. Just then, they saw a red streak go by in the hallway.
bonk bonk bonk
“Whu’ dat, bwuddah?”
[div=000000] “Nu kno, sissy. Wook wike baww.”[/div]
“Babbeh am gu fine owt! Wan see.”
The green earthie, more wary than his sister, balked. [div=000000] “Bu, babbehs awweady haf baww. Nu nee ‘nuva baww.”[/div]
By the time he finished his sentence, the red filly was halfway out of the baby gate. Daddy had been leaving the door open more and more frequently, and the foals were still just small enough to squeeze between the bars of the baby gate that secured the saferoom. The filly squeezed her rump through and plopped down on the carpet on the other side.
“Come on, bwudda! Babbeh gu ‘spwowin!” The adventurous earthie bounded down the hallway. Her more reluctant brother shook his head, but followed her through the gate anyway.
It took him longer to work his way through the gate than it did his sister—he was the biggest in the litter from the time they were born—and he emerged from the saferoom into an empty hallway.
“Sissy? Whewe am?” The colt looked both ways, seeing three doors besides the one through which he had just come. Two of the doors were closed, and the third was cracked open, but it was pitch dark inside. He was afraid of the dark, so he decided not to go that way.
Instead, he walked to the end of the hallway. None of the foals had ever been out of the saferoom, so it might as well have been the end of the world to them. Eventually, he reached a steep drop off—down at the bottom was a bright red ball.
The foal had never seen such a big bouncy ball. It practically called out to him from the foot of the stairs. But he, unlike his sister, was cautious. He stood at the edge of the stairs and resolved not to chase after the ball of his dreams.
SNAP
“SCREEEEEE!”
“Whuah? Sissy haf huwtieEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHH!!!” The green earthie lost his balance and slipped from the top step. He bounced off of each step on the way down, like some perverse imitation of a ball. His back smacked against the tile floor at the bottom, and his whole world went black.
Barry, of course, had seen the whole thing. He nearly burst a gut laughing as the red earthie squealed about the “miwkies-smeww nummies” he had placed in the mousetrap in the laundry room, and completely lost his shit watching the green colt tumble down the stairs. He composed himself enough to feign anger and shock to Blue, and went to retrieve the ill-fated foals.
“Blue, wake the hell up!” He threw open the saferoom door, holding a broken baby in each hand.
“Huuwhua? Whuh daddeh wan?” The amputee dam awoke groggily. Her two unicorn foals dropped their blocks, and each made scaredy-poopies on the floor.
“What do you mean, ‘whuh daddeh wan’? Your babies got out of the saferoom!”
Blue looked up at the man, and her eyes widened in horror with the realization that the thing dangling from the mousetrap was her stiffened, dead baby.
“Nuuuuuuuuu! Nuuuuuuuuuuuu!”
“Dammit, Blue, do you know why we call this the saferoom? It’s because this is a room where you can be safe! This,” he said, holding the mousetrap in the sobbing dam’s face, “is why fluffies are supposed to stay in the saferoom!”
“Huu huu…poow wed babbeh. Wed babbeh am mummah’s fuwst open-see-pwaces babbeh! Huu huu…”
“And now, your ‘first open-see-places’ baby is dead! Because you didn’t keep her in the saferoom.” Barry changed his tone to sound more somber, “But, I wish that was the only bad news.”
He held out his other hand. In it lay the green earthie foal—its body barely clinging to life—with broken legs, and its one tooth now broken off. Blood seeped from the corner of its mouth.
[div=000000] “mu…muh…gi…gif…hug…gies,”[/div] the foal croaked weakly. Little bastard probably has internal damage, Barry thought, he’s likely dead anyway, but let’s draw this out.
“Huuuuuu…babbeh haf wowsest huwties, bu mummah nu can gif huggies! Nu haf weggies fo huggies!”
Drawing the foal back under his arm, Barry said, “Well, I guess it’s up to daddy, then. Just like everything else. Come on, Blue—daddy will try to save your baby, and then it’s time for your punishment.”
Blue huu huued all the way to the garage.
The foal’s labored breathing was drowned out only by his mother’s sobs. The two fluffies faced each other on the workbench, and both had tears matted all down their cheeks.
“Now, let’s see: he’s little, so I can’t use the saw. Hey, now there’s an idea!” Barry pulled a Dremel tool set off of the shelf that he had gotten for Christmas but never had a chance to use. He quickly found a cutting attachment and plugged the tool into the wall.
bzzt**bzzt
“Good. It works.” The man quickly went to work—holding the foal down only to make sure he got a clean cut.
“Huu huu…daddeh…pwease sabe babbeh.”
“Shut up, Blue. I know you’re only trying to keep from getting punished. Don’t worry—you’ve got one coming to you already.”
“SCREEE—gackhyurkhurk!” The foal had sustained too much damage to scream properly when the tool cut through his flesh.
“Pwease nu gif babbeh huwties, daddeh. Am fo huggies an wuv!”
“Fuck off.” Barry made short work of the colt’s four limbs, and used a soldering iron rather than stitches to seal up the wounds. When he was done, the pillowed foal sat silently—save for the occasional cough.
“I think that’s the best I can do. Think you can keep this one alive, Blue?”
The mare huu huued, and tried to use her last leg to scoot across the table next to the broken baby. The baby merely squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to look at his daddy, his mother, or any of the gore that surrounded him.
Barry clamped his hand down on the mare. “Now, it’s your turn.”
“Pwease nu take wastest weggie, daddeh. Nu wan be dummeh nu-weggie fwuff.”
“Oh, you mean like your baby here? Well, if you don’t want me to take your last leggie, you’ve got to have something to give up.” He rolled the dam over on her back. “How about…a milkie-place?”
Blue’s mouth gaped in horror. “Nuuuuu, daddeh! Bwue nee miwkie-pwaces fo gif babbehs miwkies. Nee miwkies fo gwow up big an stwong!”
Barry shook his head. “But Blue, you’ve got two milkie-places! If I take one, you’ll still have one to give your babies milkies! But if I take your leggie, you won’t have any leggies left!”
The dismembered mare gave her daddy’s proposition some thought, and then came to a decision. She said nothing, but shifted her weight to present her right teat. Barry nodded and grabbed his hatchet from the wall.
Blue lost her last leg anyway. The green colt had seizures all through the night, coughing up so much blood that he eventually choked to death. The mare could do nothing for herself anymore, so Barry pulled her litterbox under her back end and her food dish next to the front. Daddy replaced her water with a FluffSafe water bottle, and started giving her kibble instead of spaghetti at meal times. He must have been very disappointed in how bad a fluffy she was.
She choked down the hard, dry kibble. It wasn’t bestest nummies, but she was the worsest mummah ever, so daddy was right to change her food. Soon, her last two babies would start to num nummies, so they wouldn’t need to drink milkies anymore. The thought made her a little sad.
Half of her morning kibble was left in the bowl. The red and brown unicorn foals, both fillies, played with blockies while their mummah watched. They were the joy of her life. She closed her eyes and dreamed of the pretty mares her little ones would become, and hoped that they would be better mummahs than she had been.
kaff**kaff
hyuuurk
“Mummah! Daddeh! Hewp!”
Blue was startled from her dream by the shouts of her brown pointy-baby and the sound of the red pointy-baby choking. He had apparently tried to take his first bite of kibble and swallowed a piece whole.
“Nu wowwy, wed babbeh! Mummah comin’!” She tried to get up—but remembered she didn’t have any leggies! She wiggled forward a little bit, but knew she would never make it in time.
“DADDEH! HEWP BABBEH!”
The red filly’s eyes bulged as she struggled. Her brown sister shuffled around, not knowing what to do next, and Blue sobbed, unable to save her baby as it suffocated.
Eventually, the baby gave up. Her legs twitched for a moment, but then she stilled. Forever later, she heard daddy come in the door.
“Blue, I’m home! Have you had a good day?”
The unicorn dam saw her daddy’s head poke around the corner. Her eyes were red and dry—no more tears would come.
“Oh my god…”
That No-Poopies-Wawa kibble was a good investment. FluffMart carried many medical supplies and dietary supplements—among them an anti-diarrheal kibble that was hard as a fucking rock. Barry knew that the foals would be weaning soon, and that at least one of them would be brave enough to take a crack at it.
He cancelled the meeting he had scheduled for the next day, wanting to watch the cameras. The brown unicorn filly had watched her sister try solid foods and die in the attempt, so he was certain she would insist on “milkies”. But of course, Blue had only had one thing left to give.
“Mummah, babbeh nee miwkies! Why nu gif babbeh miwkies?”
“Huu huu…am sowwy, wastest babbeh. Mummah nu haf miwkies. Nu haf nu mowe miwkie-pwaces!”
Better make one last appearance. Barry got up from his chair and walked across the hallway to the saferoom.
“Nu! Mummah teww wastest babbeh dat mummah nu haf miwkies. Babbeh nee num kibbwe!”
“Nuuuuu, mummah! Nu wan take foweva sweepies wike sissy!”
“Blue, what’s going on here?”
Surprisingly, the filly spoke first. “Mummah nu gif miwkies tu babbeh! Babbeh haf wowsest tummie-owwies! Huu huu…”
“Why won’t you give your baby milkies, Blue? Do you want her to die like all the rest?”
Shocked at the suggestion, she replied, “Nu, daddeh! Bwue nu can gif miwkies, ‘cause daddeh took ‘way Bwue’s wastest miwkie-pwace!”
Feigning offense, Barry said, “Oh, so this is my fault now?”
Blue didn’t say a word. She shook her head.
“Is it because she’s brown? You think she’s a ‘poopie-baby’?”
“Nu! Bwue wuv wastest babbeh, eben if wastest babbeh am poopie cowow!” At this, the filly wailed. Her mother had never called her “poopie” before.
“You know what? I’m done. I am done with you and your shit. You can either give your baby milkies so she can grow up big and strong, or you can let her starve and take forever sleepies, just like all your other babies. I really don’t care anymore.” Barry slammed the door as he left the room. Of course, he went straight back to his home office, where he sat and watched the show on his biggest monitor.
Hmm…might be a good night to order Chinese.
It’s truly amazing how quickly a foal deteriorates when it doesn’t feel loved. A foal who doesn’t get “huggies” or at least verbal affirmation from either its mother or its human owner can become catatonic in a very short period of time.
So when Blue wouldn’t (or more appropriately, couldn’t give huggies or milkies to her last unicorn filly, the little foal struggled. Barry watched on the monitor as the foal did everything it could to earn its mother’s affection.
“Wook, mummah! Am dancie babbeh! Babbeh wiww dancie fo mummah’s bestes’ miwkies!”
The blue dam had closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to watch.
“Pwease, mummah, babbeh haf wowsest tummie-owwies! Nee miwkies!”
The foal continued to dance until her legs no longer supported her. She collapsed in front of Blue, and then curled up into a ball and shivered.
“Mummah nu wuv babbeh nu mowe? Babbeh am sowwy! Babbeh nu kno what babbeh du, but am sowwy! Nu wuww du neva ‘gain!”
Blue cringed, holding back tears as the foal writhed on the floor and squealed.
Hoo boy, this is going to be a long night.
Ten hours, an order of Szechuan Fluffy and foal dumplings, three bowls of popcorn, and a 2-liter of Coke later, Barry woke up in his office chair, hoping he hadn’t missed anything. Sure enough, he saw Blue on the screen in front of him—her eyes red from both tears and lack of sleep—and the brown filly sucking on her hoof. The foal occasionally chirped in distress, having not eaten anything in over 24 hours.
There was something poetic in how Blue’s first “tawkie-babbeh” was now the last baby she had. Add to that the fact that she now was apparently unable to talk…
Finally, the foal stopped moving. Her eyes were shut tightly as the day she was born, and she chirped no more. Blue sat and stared at the now-dead baby—her eyes tired and heavy. She didn’t cry—probably couldn’t cry—and didn’t huu huu.
Guess I’d better go and finish this up, Barry thought. It’s been fun—but as they say, “all good things must come to an end”.
He quietly opened the saferoom door. Blue’s eyes were as dead as the foal that lay prostrate in front of her. She didn’t look up at her daddy. Didn’t say anything.
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Blue. I am so sorry. Couldn’t give her milkies, huh?” he asked, picking up the corpse with a paper towel.
The mummah-no-more looked up at Barry with sad, lonely eyes. “Daddeh…gif Bwue huwties ‘gain?”
The man shook his head. “No, sweetie. I think you’ve suffered enough.” He picked up the pillowed mare and squeezed her tightly. “Come on, let’s go outside.”
September is still a fairly warm month in the Carolinas, and that day was no different. Barry set Blue in the green grass, which was to her a welcome change from the bed which brought her so many bad memories. The wind gently blew the trees, and the fluffy breathed in the clean autumn air.
Her daddy sat in his chair, drinking a “beew” and reading a book. She didn’t know what she would do without her daddy. She had been a bad mu—a bad fluffy, and deserved to be punished. He promised she could have sketties every day again, and not the dummy kibble that gave her “huwtie-poopies”.
“Blue, daddy has to go back inside for a minute. Be a good fluffy and wait patiently, ok?”
“Otay, daddeh.”
Instead of going back in the house through the door on the deck, he went around to the side of the house through the gate. Lifting the lid on the recycling bin, his eyes met a pair of glaring brown ones.
“Dummeh hoomin, wet smawty gu, ow gif wowsest owwies!”
“Now, now, smarty. That’s not how guests behave. Don’t you remember that I promised you something?”
Blue rested in the grass with her eyes closed. She thought that maybe now, she would be able to get the sleep that had eluded her for the past few days. A thousand awful thoughts ran through her mind—her dying foals, losing her leggies, tail, and milkie-places, and daddy being so sad and hurt that she had been such a bad fluffy…
Still, though, she told herself that maybe now, it was all over. She and daddy could be happy, and he would give her lots of sketties and hu—
“Hey, dewe nu am pwetty mawes hewe! Onwy dummeh, nu-weggie mawe!”
Her eyes snapped open, and before her stood the ugliest colored stallion she had ever seen! If her last baby had looked like poopies, then this fluffy looked like…like…hurtie-poopies-water!
“Smawty nu cawe—smawty gon’ gif dummeh mawe bestes’ enfies, anyway!” He quickly shuffled over behind Blue and mounted her. Blue, who had no legs, could not run. But she could scream.
“HEEEEEWP! DADDEH, SABE BWUE FWOM BAD FWUFFY! HEEEEEWP!”
“Shaddup, dummeh! ‘oo gon’ gif smawty gud feews! Enf, enf enf!”
“NUUUUHUUHUUUUU! HEWP DADDEH, HEEEEEWP!”
“GUUUUUD FEEEEEEEEWS!”
“Holy shit! Get off of my Blue, you dirty shitrat!” Her daddy picked up the smarty by his mane and gave him worsest owwies with a hammer. Soon, the smarty took forever sleepies.
“Oh, Blue: are you ok?” Daddy picked her up and gave her a big hug, careful to not get any of the stallion’s “enfie juice” on him. “When I heard you screaming, I got so worried!”
Blue looked up at daddy with tears in her eyes. “Daddeh, dat meanie fwuffy gif Bwue bad speshuw huggies—Bwue nu wan haf babbehs ‘gain!”
Barry smiled down at the distraught pillowfluff. “Don’t worry, Blue. I’m sure that if you do have foals, it won’t be anything like the last time.”
The man chuckled to himself. While he waited for last night’s events to play out, he had posted teaser videos to several of his favorite forums—and the feedback had been phenomenal.
He carried her back inside, not sure if he should let the next litter starve to death, or if he should hand raise them to hate their “dummeh, nu-weggie mummah”. Oh, well. I guess I’ve got four weeks to decide.
THE END OF CHAPTER ONE
