Part Ten
“MUNSTAH FWUFFY!” Syrup cried, cowering behind Rob’s legs, as Apollo approached. Well, it wasn’t like this was unexpected, as Syrup’s mother hadn’t exactly preached tolerance to her offspring, but Rob was honestly a little surprised at the vehemence with which the filly shrieked the words.
“No good, huh?” Kay asked, bemused.
“I kinda figured,” Rob replied, his voice even.
Rob wasn’t particularly upset about Syrup’s reaction to the alicorn. If anything, it’d made him dislike her less. Something about the saccharine behavior of the fluffy grated on his nerves, and if he didn’t have a use for her he’d probably have done something terrible to her. As is, the outburst, the tone of hatred and revulsion, had done a lot to humanize the filly, which oddly enough made the urge to kick her, that he was always struggling to suppress, ease a little.
Nevertheless, if he wanted her to work as a nurse-mare, he’d have to do something about this. Preferably something that wouldn’t leave her as a broken mess. He had to teach her that alicorns weren’t monsters. And as much as he wished he could do otherwise, he knew he had to do it without showing her the real monster that she was hiding behind.
…
Coco lived a happy life, surrounding by her siblings and watched over by her mummah and her human-daddeh, who was always kind and caring. Despite being a dirty-brown color, Coco was never mistreated or insulted by her family; in fact, she’d never even heard the term “poopie” in reference to a fluffy. Her mummah’s love was shared equally among the foals, as was her milkies, and Coco’s only desire had been to have toysies to play with.
Ever since the foals had been old enough to talk, their mummah had begun to tell them about the new families they would have when they were older. They would have nice new mummahs and daddehs, and would have lots of good nummies, and toysies, and nice warm nesties. Secretly, although Coco had always acted happy, she was a little sad at the thought of leaving her mummah and her siblings, but she was also excited about getting lots of toysies to play with.
Eventually, the day came when the foals could eat solid food. After a feast of the bestest sketties ever, it was time for them to go to their new families. One by one, they were loaded unto carriers and taken away, until only Coco was left with mummah in the saferoom. Then daddeh came and took her out as well.
Coco trembled in excitement, and a little nervousness, as daddeh carried her outside in the carrier. She smelled new smells, but they didn’t smell pretty. Out of the front of the carrier she saw a dirty, gray alleyway. She didn’t understand…where was her new family? Where were the toys?
“Fucking shit-colored waste of space,” her daddeh said, his voice suddenly harsh and cruel, before the carrier slammed into the wall, the impact jarring Coco into unconsciousness.
…
Coco awoke in darkness, with a crushing weight on her back. She could barely breathe, and when she did, she smelled filth and decay, and the sketties she’d so enjoyed not long ago came back up. She tried to thrash, but could barely move, and slid forward, something pressing into her face. Desperately she gasped for air, but the thing prevented her from drawing breath. Suddenly, she realized she was going to die.
Wai, daddeh? Wai weabe Coco? Wai nu wub Coco nu mowe?" she thought, as despair set in. Her frantic thrashing slowed, her attempts to breathe grew more and more desperate, but she knew it was all over. There was no new family, there were no toysies, only this dark, disgusting place. This was where she died.
As her eyes flickered closed and her struggle for air ended, her only thought was hope that her siblings were okay.
…
Coco awoke suddenly with a gasp, her nose and mouth blessedly unobstructed again, but her lungs burning. Her eyes flickered open once more, but she could only see a vague gray blur, with a dark green blotch. Suddenly, the blotch moved, and she felt a heavy impact on her chest and coughed out a disgusting glob of filth. Her vision began to clear, and she realized that she was in the alleyway, and the green blob was another fluffy.
“Hewwo, sistew.”
She fell unconscious again.
…
Coco awoke once again. This time, she was somewhere else, somewhere dark, but with light streaming in in dim rays from above. She could breathe more easily now, and her vision was more clear, but she was terribly weak. She tried to rise to her hooves, but collapsed once more, groaning.
“Nu mobe. Sistew awmost gu fowebah-sweepies. Jus’ west.”
“Wewe am Coco?”
“Spwite sabe Coco. Sweep nao, wiww tawk in bwight-time.”
Coco wanted to ask more, but her strength failed her once again, and she fell, this time into sleep.
…
“Waek up, Coco.”
She opened her eyes, and this time she saw that she was in some kind of burrow. She didn’t know how she knew this, but she knew. Sprite, the fluffy who’d brought her here, was standing beside her, something in his mouth.
'Nummies," he said, as he dropped it to the bed of leaves. Coco, hungry after her ordeal, reached to eat the food, only to gag and spit it out when she realized what it was. A half-rotten apple core.
“Coco nee’ tu num.”
“Nu taste pwetty.”
“NUM.” the other fluffy commanded, and she was too frightened not to obey. Once she’d eaten, she realized it wasn’t so bad. Not as bad as the gnawing hunger, anyway.
“Fowwow Spwite.”
“Wai?”
Sprite looked at her, and she tried to back away from his scarred face, only to bump into the back wall of the burrow. He looked so scary, so mean! She hadn’t ever seen anything so frightening.
“Wan mummah!” she sobbed. “Wan daddeh!”
“Den fowwow Spwite.”
…
They were back in the alley again. It was even uglier than Coco had remembered, all gray and dirty, smelling of refuse. On one side there was a pile of big black bags, bags she remembered daddeh using to take away poopies from the litterbox. Trash bags, she remembered him calling them once. Bags for things nobody wanted.
Sprite led her over to one of the bags, which was torn open. Various foul materials, rotted food and litter-covered waste, oozed out of the hole in the bag. She didn’t understand how this was supposed to get her back to mummah and daddeh.
“See dat?”
“Yus…wai bwing Coco hewe? Wewe am mummah an’ daddeh?”
“Dat am wewe dadded put Coco. Dat am wewe Coco awmost gu fowebah-sweepies.”
She didn’t understand. Why would daddeh do that? “Fucking shit-colored waste of space” she remembered him saying. Tears crept into her eyes.
“Nu! Daddeh wub Coco!”
Sprite spat. “Daddeh? Coco stiww caww muntah hoomin daddeh? Munstah hoomin nu wub fwuffies! Onwy wub pwetty cowows! Twow poopie fwuffies 'way! WIKE TWASH!”
“Nu…daddeh an’ mummah wub Coco…”
“Den wai twow Coco 'way?”
She couldn’t answer that. She desperately wanted to be back, back in the saferoom with mummah, but she understood now. She could never go back. She’d never been wanted. She…“Coco…am…twash…?”
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