Part Twelve
They were set down in the saferoom, but now it didn’t feel quite so safe anymore. Mummah was sitting there, feeding a batch of chirpy foals. Coco was confused. Had they missed the other foals? Was another fluffy lying dead in the trash?
When mummah looked up at the pair an expression of total shock plastered itself over her face. “Wai Spwite an’ Coco am baek? Wai nu gu fowebah-sweepies?”
They both froze, unable to process the betrayal.
“Well, looks like they both survived, Dashie. And Sprite here told me something very interesting.”
“Wut am dat?” she said, trying to look innocent and failing.
“I think it’s time we had a talk. All of us. And Dashie?”
“Yus, daddeh?”
“You’d better have a damn good excuse for yourself.”
…
They all lay there in darkness, Coco and Sprite in one sorry-box and Dashie in another. In the shed outside the boxes, daddeh was doing…something. The rhythmic Shiiiing! of metal on metal would have meant more if they’re understood the concept of sharpening blades. Not that they could really be any more terrified than they already were.
Suddenly the lid of the box was flung open, and they winced as the light burned their eyes. “Time to talk.”
They were set on a tall bench, far too tall to jump down from. Coco considered jumping anyway, but her legs locked when she thought about it. Unlike her and Sprite, Dashie was placed in an immobilizing board before being placed on the bench. That didn’t bode well at all.
“So, Dashie, you’re going to explain why you told Sprite that the alicorn would kill the other foals.”
“Fwuffy nebah sae da-SCREEEEE!”
“You can’t lie to me,” said daddeh, as blood droplets scattered off the tip of the whip-like sorry stick. “Now, tell me why you did that.”
“Munstah babbeh wewe munstah!”
“Christ, and I thought I got it through to you what killing alicorns meant,” daddeh sighed. He looked at the other two. “I don’t intend to apologize to you two, and I doubt you’d accept it if I did. But let me at least explain why I did what I did.”
“I need the money from breeding Dashie. Truthfully, it’s the only thing that lets me get by. Which is why, after the incident with the alicorn, I made a mistake. I genuinely intended, at least at first, to find each foal a home, even if it meant keeping you a little longer. Dashie here ruined that.”
“Den wai nu jus’ wet fwuffies gu? Wai kiww babbehs?”
“Because it was the only option I had. I can’t legally release fluffies, the shelters are full, and I couldn’t afford the fine. But I also couldn’t risk a repeat of what happened with that alicorn, so I couldn’t keep the previous litter around after there was a new one. Simple as that.”
“Den jus’ nu wet mummah hab mowe babbehs!”
"Also not an option. Like I said, I need the money from breeding her. I’m not pretending like it wasn’t a shitty thing to do, but I’m also not going to pretend that I wouldn’t do it again. Unfortunately for you, shitrats just aren’t worth it. A few dozen dead shitrats means a whole lot less to me than my livelihood.
“Of course, that doesn’t really apply when it’s all because a certain fucker” the whip crack!'d again against Dashie’s flank as he said this, drawing another shriek of pain "decided that she’d get another foal to take the fall for her wanting alicorns dead. See, now it’s not doing what I had to, now it’s killing for no reason, and that’s just not acceptable.
“My options are still pretty limited here, but I’m going to offer you two a choice. But before I do that, I think there’s something you need to hear. Dashie, care to explain why you thought they were both dead? If you lie I’m going to rip out your tongue, so choose your words carefully.”
“Daddeh sae nu mowe babbehs untiw aww owd babbehs gu ‘way. Sae nu coud hab owd babbehs an’ nyu babbehs tuu. Bu’ smawty wan’ hab mowe babbehs! Smawty wub hab pwettiest babbehs! Nu wan ugwy owd babbehs an’ nu pwetty babbehs!” She paused, clearly unwilling to continue.
“Keep. Talking.”
“Su smawty ask daddeh tu maek ugwy babbehs gu fowebah-sweepies. Sae if owd babbehs gu fowebah-sweepies den smawty can hab nyu babbehs. Smawty pwomise dat wiww be nice tu aww babbehs, eben ugwy babbehs, untiw babbehs am big babbehs. Nu wiww caww babbehs poopie ow ugwy anymore. Bu’ if daddeh nu wet smawty hab mowe pwetty babbehs, smawty gib aww babbehs fowebah-sweepies.”
“And that’s why I got this bitch dirt cheap. Unfortunately, I still need her for her good genes, and I can’t afford to pillow her and have her die early. Fortunately, if you two choose to cooperate, that issue goes away. Sprite’s DNA is worth much, much more than hers, see.
So, now you have two options. Either you refuse to cooperate, and I kill you both, or you can give me something I want, and in exchange I let you decide what happens to her, get to leave safe and sound, and you get to take the foals with you when you go.”
“Spwite hatchu.”
“Oh, I know you still hate me. And I know it’s entirely justified.”
“‘ou am wowstest daddeh an’ mummah ebah! Coco hatchu! HATCHU HATCHU!”
“Spwite hatchu, bu’ nu wan gu fowebah-sweepies, nu wan mowe babbehs gu fowebah-sweepies. Wut daddeh wan’?”
"I just want a little bit of DNA from you. You’re very durable, for a fluffy anyway. Those kicks should have killed you, or at least left you a broken mess. That makes you and your offspring valuable. Very valuable. People don’t particularly like their pets to be fragile, you see.
“So you hang around, I get a few samples, and I guarantee that your foals will be well taken care off, regardless of color. That’s it. Just hump an enfie-toy for a few days and you’ll be free to go. I hope you two can see reason.”
“Spwite wiww du it.”
“Good. Now, after you make good on your end of the deal I’ll make good on mine.”
…
In truth, it wasn’t a very unpleasant few days. Daddeh treated them well, even giving Coco special nummies so she’d be able to make milkies for the foals when they took them. As much as they hated helping him, if it meant no more foals died, it was worth it. And it wasn’t as if it was an unpleasant task for Sprite, either.
After a few days, however, their side of the deal was done. Now it was time to decide what happened to Dashie. Unfortunately for her, Sprite wasn’t in a merciful mood.
“So, what’ll be it first?” daddeh asked, as they stood on the bench, glaring at a restrained and terrified Dashie. “Gag or just remove the tongue?”
“Nu. Spwite wan du dis.”
Coco looked away. She didn’t want this, not really. While she understood that mummah was bad, very bad, and that what she’d been through was at least partially her fault, she didn’t feel this was right. But she understood why Sprite felt like he did. After all, he was the one who’d found the cold bodies in the trash. So she just stood by as he avenged them as best he could.
…
“Spwite…nu feew bettew,” the stallion confided as they left, carrying the now-orphaned foals. “Bu’ Spwite nyo Spwite du wight ting. Nu mowe babbehs huwt by munstah mummah.”
As they collapsed into a makeshift nest, they thought about what they’d do now. Sprite seemed listless now that he’d lost the purpose that’d driven him for so long. As much as they both felt as if they should be happy, they both just felt empty. It seemed as if their revenge had poisoned what should have been a joyous occasion.
Coco looked at her brothers and sisters, cheeping happily in her embrace. It warmed her heart, especially seeing the little brown foals, two of them, who she knew would have faced an awful fate without them. It was worth it, no doubt about that. But there was still one question that hadn’t been answered.
“Wut du wif munstah babbeh?”
Sprite looked a little conflicted. Instinct and virtue fought. Finally, he made a decision. “Nu babbeh am munstah. Nu babbeh am twash.”
…
Rob carefully watched the happy fluffy family. Yes, that alicorn was exactly what he needed. Now to just wait for them to fall asleep.
…
Coco awoke, feeling something was wrong. She smelled sketties, and something else felt off. Looking down, she saw in the dim glow of the streetlight that there was a foal missing. The alicorn was gone!
“Waek up! Babbeh am missin’!” she shouted, shaking Sprite awake. Indeed, the foal was nowhere to be found, and in its place was a can of spaghetti. They glanced around, frantically, before gathering up the remaining foals and going to search, leaving the can untouched.
Aw…isn’t that sweet, Rob thought as he watched from a distance, the alicorn cupped gently in one hand. He’d fully expected the shitrats to forget about the alicorn and focus on the sketties. Guess even shitrats can be decent parents, he chuckled internally. He had what he needed.
Part Fourteen
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