“So…you…let me make sure I’m reading this right…you crucified the mare?” Alex asks calmly as he looks over the file, ignoring the rapid chirping coming from the box on his desk as he looks calmly across the desk at the disheveled, most likely homeless, man who’d brought in the foals and looked expectantly at Alex, “Yessir, little bitch was trying to eat the brown one, thought it was cruel I did, so I did her like they did our Lord Jesus Christ.” The man says, smiling toothlessly through his tangled beard.
“Right, well I appreciate you bringing them in, they’ll be trained in the obedience school and put up for adoption, Mr. Brownstone? Take these papers to Cynthia and let her know we’ve got four more for adoption.” Alex says, writing a couple more things down before offering them to the small fluffy sitting next to his feet, “Okay daddeh, Mistew Bwownstone make suwe nice office wady wead it aww da way dis time.” The fluffy says with a big smile before taking the paperwork in his mouth and happily jogging away as Alex picked up the box to deliver it to the nursery.
It was a busy day at the Sorry Box Center, apart from sadistic homeless men bringing in a box full of foals, he’d had six new intakes, all of which were going to require pillowing, seeing as they were what was left of a very violent herd. A woman had come home to find that they’d crippled her domestic mare, Scooter, and taken over her yard, in her violent grief she had slaughtered all but the smartie and toughies with a shovel (Alex had asked for her number at that point).
Beyond that, they had a discount adoption day for the fluffies that had graduated the week long obedience class, which had resulted in quite a bit of profit. Alex smiles as he enters the basement where long term fluffies were held in a glorified play room, the cries of excitement at “Mistew Awex” couldn’t help but make him feel a bit better, “Hey guys, guess what today is?” He asks, kneeling down to scratch and pat the several fluffies that swarmed him, cooing and gibbering about their usual inane bullshit.
“Wat day am it?” Asks Little Foot, a brown and purple alicorn who had placed himself in the “upsies” position with his arms out, “It’s skettis day! Now remember, you all have to share equally, anyone acts mean to each other then I’ll take it away.” Alex explains, he treated the long term fluffies to spaghetti every Friday so long as they behaved, the only reason a fluffy was allowed to stay in the playroom (Nicknamed Skettiland by the residents), was if they weren’t adopted within a month.
Overcrowding seemed like an issue at first to Alex, but his rigorous obedience school ensured that nine out of ten fluffies was adopted, he’d never had more than fifteen fluffies in the five hundred square foot basement. Alex is brought back to the present when his phone goes off, he looks down, seeing a text from his employee Hector, “Hey amigo, we have problems at intake, yelling isn’t working and this smartie is being a jackass.”
Alex sighs and stands up, “Alright guys, I’ll be back in a bit with Skettis, in the meantime you should pick up your toys and get ready for dinner.” He says with a smile as the fluffies cheer and begin to push their toys back toward their corners.
Alex goes up the stairs and crosses through the adoption center, “Cynthia, did you get the file on those four foals?” He asks a blonde woman about thirty who’s distributing kibble among the fluffies on this floor, it wasn’t as nice as the basement but it was still quite nice, toys, a small tower, feeding troughs and water bottles lined the left wall upon which there were several plastic pens with enough room for fluffies to hug and cuddle in.
“Yeah, did that guy actually crucify the mare? I hate the bitch mares as much as the next guy but…Jesus.” She shakes her head and shudders a bit, “They’re gonna need a couple weeks to mature and speak, after that we can put them through obedience training, they’re good colors so I expect a breeder is gonna want them.” She continues, shaking off a stallion who was hugging her leg tightly, “Fank ou’ fo’ nummies!” He shouts as Cynthia pushes him off, “Well, I’ve got a smartie to deal with upstairs, go ahead and clock out once they’re penned up.” Alex responds, gesturing toward the cages as he steps over a mare who’s playing happily with her foals on the ground.
He can hear Hector before he sees him, he’s not sure what he’s screaming in Spanish but he does catch “Shit rat” and “Cock Sucking spawn of Satan himself.” Before opening the door. The smell hits him instantly, “Gah fuck that’s awful.” Alex says, covering his nose as Hector looks up, he’s a massive, tattooed Hispanic man, but also normally the biggest sweetheart at the facility, “Sí
Mr. Colton, he keeps shitting on the other fluffies, I try yelling at him but he won’t listen!” Hector exclaims, it looked like he’d thrown up at least once.
“It’s all good, I’ll take care of it.” Alex says, he sees the offending smartie, identifiable by his smug fuck grin and bright blue coat. “SCREEE TAKE BAD POOPIES!” He screams as Alex yanks him out of the pen by his scruff, Alex aims the little shit toward the other toughies who scream in protest at being shit on again, “Eeek! Nu sowwy poopies on toughie!” Screeches the green pegasus who receives most of the chocolate rain.
Alex carries the smartie toward the surgery room, tossing him onto the table, taking a seat in front of the fluffy and putting on a warm smile, “Now, what seems to be the problem little guy?” Alex asks, even to a fluffy, Alex’s behavior seems suspicious, why was he smiling? “Smawtie nu wan’ be in cagey, wan’ skettis an’ speciaw huggies!” The unicorn shouts, “Well…that isn’t going to happen immediately, it could be a possibility if you learn to be a good fluffy, but you have to work for it.” Alex explains.
The smartie stamps a hoof, snorts, and puffs out his cheeks, “Dummeh hoomin gib smawtie skettis and mawe for speciaw huggies nao ow get sowwy poopies!” He shouts, Alex’s smile drops immediately, the little shit didn’t wanna talk reasonably? That was fine, Alex’s ice blue eyes lock with the unicorn’s, “Listen to me, you crippled an innocent mare, you destroyed a garden, I’m going to cut off your leggies-“ at this the smartie begins to bawl loudly, Alex’s voice raising over him, but his tone was just as flat and cold, “If you’re lucky someone will adopt you as a friend for their own fluffy, but if you keep giving the others sorry poopies, I will cut off your horn, and you will be a litter pal.”
At this the stallion’s crying stops abruptly, he looks up at Alex, his eyes wide, “S-smawtie am sowwy…w-won’t gib toughies sorry poopies, pwease nu take weggies…” he asks, Alex continues to stare at the smartie, his eyes just as cold and his expression just as unreadable, “I’m taking all of your leggies…but you still have a chance, do not mess it up.” Alex says before picking the smartie back up and carrying him into intake, the fluffy’s eyes were wide with fear but he didn’t scream or shit as Alex set him back in the pen gently, giving him a small head scratch before he walked away.
“I don’t know how you get the little bastards to shut up but you got a talent for it boss.” Hector says, impressed as the smartie slowly crosses the pen to the two toughies and utters a quiet, “Smawtie sowwy for gibin’ toughies sowwy poopies.” He says.
Alex looks back at Hector with a smirk, “Natural talent, that and a calm voice with violent threats of course.” He explains as Hector chuckles and nods his head, “That’ll do it, are we gonna have graveyard shift do the pillowing then?” He asks as Alex checks his watch, “May as well, I don’t want to stay late just to listen to them scream, let me go give the long term fluffies their spaghetti and we can go to the bar, drinks are on me.” He says.
After a quick visit to the fridge for a bag of their Hasbio certified spaghetti and dumping it into the basement’s trough, Alex makes his final rounds, reassuring the fluffies that weren’t adopted yet that they’d find homes, and passing on the punishments to graveyard, “All six of them get pillowed?” Asks Jake, Alex’s head of punishment, “Yep, they assaulted a mare and crippled her, just remind them they’re lucky she didn’t die or we’d be killing them.” He responds.
After dropping Mister Brownstone (his pet fluffy) off in his safe room at home, Alex and Hector began the trip toward the bar, “Mierda look at that dude, someone crucified a fluffy!” Hector exclaims as they drive by a bright pink unicorn nailed to a cross made of two discarded planks, she looked a lot like the foals that had been brought in earlier that morning.