Soylent Brown Pt.9 (By: Jackie22)

You leave the breeding pits behind you. The rest of the breeding went on uneventfully, and the crying fluffies were carted back to E-block. The cycle begins again.

Soon, you cross the doorway into the maternity pens. You’re surrounded by happy mummahs and soon-mummahs talking or singing to their foals. There’s a lot of awful, high pitched, off key shrieking happening right now. You feel bad for the people who work here.

These are special isolation pens used to keep pregnant mares in so that they can be educated on proper foal care after birth, and so that they don’t end up doing something stupid and losing the foals. Mostly the last one. The valuable foals go to the milkbags after they’re born, the rest are rejects so you don’t care what happens to them. All you really teach them is not to kill the damned things. Sometimes they even listen.

Or just kill 3 alicorns. Fucking hell. You need to stop thinking about that.

When a fluffy doesn’t listen, or decides that it knows better than you, or just wants to be a bitch, it’ll crush one or more of it’s foals. When this happens, you need to make an example of it. A classic fluffy mill “example”. Minus the death of course. Better if they can hear her screaming for the next few hours. The typical method for punishment is leg removal. But you sometimes pull teeth or eyes if they’re out of legs.

You pass by a pen. There’s a mare inside hugging one of it’s foals while two of the other ones nurse. There are 3 more sleeping or chirping in front of her. She looks rather happy…

“Hewwo nice mistah! Fank ou fow wet duwsk keep babbehs! Duwsk wub babbehs SU much! Haf biggest heawt happies!” She exclaims.

You don’t have biggest heart happies.

She’s in a pen with 6 foals after sorting. That means she almost certainly had a 0% clearance rate. Not good. At all. You take the clipboard off of the corner of the pen and read it.

Name: Dusk
Traits: Black fluff, Dark blue mane, white spot on back leg
Born: 6/2
Parentage: C-143 / Noire
Number of litters: 4
Minor offenses: Arguing - 2, Tantrums - 1*
Major offenses: Biting - 1* Screaming - 1*
Notes: See litter 1 for details on offense.

You flip through the pages.

Litter 1
Date: 15/5
Stallion: Azure Skies
Total number: 5
Foal #1: Brown/Red - Rejected
Foal #2: Grey/Yellow - Rejected
Foal #3: Black/Brown - Rejected
Foal #4: Yellow/Brown - Rejected
Foal #5: Brown/Black - Accepted

Clearance Rate: 20% - Fail
Notes: Mare tantrumed and bit handler when foals were taken. Was forcibly subdued. Multiple teeth broken. Extensive bruising. No major damage.

Litter 2
Date: 24/5
Stallion: Sunshine
Total number: 3
Foal#1: Orange/Green - Accepted
Foal#2: Black/Yellow - Rejected*
Foal#3: Red/Na - Rejected*

Clearance Rate: 50% - Poor
Notes: #3 was a runt, heavily under-developed, no mane or tail. #2 had noticeable deformities on back leg. Both liquidated. Do not breed with this stallion again. Recommend Sunshine for review.

Litter 3
Date: 7/6
Stallion: Horsey
Total number: 4
Foal#1: Red/Brown - Rejected*
Foal#2: Red/Green - Accepted
Foal#3: Red/Yellow - Rejected*
Foal#4: Brown/Blue - Rejected*

Clearance Rate: 100% - Excellent*
Notes: #2 Barely passed. All others either had major deformities or were runts. 100% rating is misleading. Would have been 25% if not for the losses. Recommend for review.

Litter 4
Date: 19/6
Stallion: Just Phil
Total number: 7
Foal#1: White/Gold - Rejected
Foal#2: Grey/Yellow - Rejected
Foal#3: Orange/Brown - Rejected
Foal#4: Brown/Blue - Rejected
Foal#5: Green/Green - Rejected
Foal#6: Yellow/Brown - Rejected
Foal#7: White/Brown - Rejected

Clearance Rate: 0% - Fail
Notes: #1 was a runt. #5 Had noticeable deformity on back leg. Will likely not be able to walk. All four litters have been poor. Recommend for review/disposal.

Incident #1
Major offense: Screaming

Mare was beaten heavily during first incident (see Litter 1) When taken back to B-block, began screaming for foals back. Screams continued for 15 minutes until dealt with. Hung up in cage and sprayed with hose. Continued screaming. Heavily beaten then brought to sorry box and left in overnight. No further screaming.
Signature: Carl

Well that was enlightening. Looks like someone wasn’t doing their job and just greenlit her after glancing at the clearance rates. Well, it’s all fine. This is actually perfect. She has exactly the traits you need. Low value foals, defiant attitude, strong maternal instinct, Good foal management, talkative.

The mare takes a foal off her teat and lets another nurse. The foal peeps in discontent. She holds the foal to her chest.

“Nu cwy babbeh. Is otay. Mummah am hewe. Mummah wub babbeh…”

The foals chirps slow to a stop, and it begins nestling in her fluff.

You leave a note on her file.

Who greenlit this fluffy? All four litters have been awful. Pay attention to the notes. Shae doesn’t write them for nothing. I’m reassigning her to E-Block.

You walk away. The mare keeps switching her foals out, alternating between feeding them and hugging them. Totally ignorant to the fact that you just doomed them all to torture and death. She holds her foal close to her chest.

“Wub babbehs…” She whispers.

Blissful ignorance.

You approach Stanley. He’s the manager of the maternity pens. Fairly young, but not that young. Used to work at a zoo. He does good work here, but sometimes it seems like he misses working with real animals. Oh well.

“Hey, how are the mares?”

“Fine, fine. I’ve got a few new ones so I’m going to teach them the chant. Hopefully these ones will actually listen. I heard about what Rarity did. How much are we out?”

“God, I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Well, hopefully we get something back for her. I head she was sent to E-block.”

“Sure as shit was. I sent her to E, then to D right after. Hopefully she’s still alive because I have some questions for her.”

“Like what?”

“I need a motive, basically. Marcus told me some stuff about how fluffies don’t like alicorns.”

“Is that a surprise? I tell them over and over again to not stomp them and they still stomp 'em anyways. Honestly, putting normal fluffies in with alicorns is just inviting disaster. No offense.”

“No, there’s a good chance you’re right, But it’s more complicated than that. I’ll see if I can put some questions to Rarity. Assuming she’s not already dead.”

“Oh, shit!” Stanley shouts.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask.

You both come up to a pen. There’s a red stain in the corner. The mare is happily licking her new foals clean. Her hooves are stained with blood.

“Hey! What the fuck did you do!?”

The mare stiffens up, then glances up at Stanley fearfully.

Yes shitrat. You were told not to stomp foals and you did it anyways. Now you’re in trouble. Funny how that works.

“You were told explicitly not to harm any of your babbehs.”

“Buh… Buh was ugwy munstah babbeh! Was bad babbeh!” She yelled.

“I told you that you didn’t decide which foals were bad. We did.” Stanley hissed.

You pick up the foal. It’s an alicorn. It’s totally ruined. The legs came out backwards and it’s torso has this weird wrinkling on the right side. It probably wouldn’t have lived long even if she didn’t crush it’s skull. Still, She harmed an alicorn. Looks like there’s going to be an “example” today.

“Bwandy sowwy! Bwandy fowgot! Bwandy sowwy! Nu huwt weggies!”

“Oh no shitrat. You didn’t just hurt any foal, you killed an alicorn. Do you know what happens when you kill an alicorn?”

Brandy’s eyes are saucers. She begins to shake.

“Pweeze nu huwt babbehs!” The mare cries.

The fluffies around them begin to huu. Stanley glares down at her.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Stanley brings the mare to a table in front of the pens. He slams the mare down and ties her to the table with a length of twine. Then he takes the foals off the cart and drops them carelessly on to the table. He takes a clear plastic pitcher from under the table and moves another table in front of the one that Brandy is on. He puts the pitcher down on top of it, and fills it up with water.

“Hey! All you fluffies! Come over here right now!”

The fluffies begin to gather around the edges and corners of their pens. This is the room for B and C block fluffies. The A-block fluffs are in another room.

“It’s time for an example.”

The crowd gurgles with soft huus. Some voices can be heard.

“Nu wan esampwe…”

“Huu… Scawwy!”

“Why fwuffy get 'zampwe? Was bad fwuffy?”

“You are not allowed to hurt your foals. And you are definitely not allowed to hurt foals with wings and a horn. Sometimes you vermin like to think that you’re ‘saving your babbehs’. You are not. This is what happens when you hurt an alicorn.”

Stanley takes one of the foals from the screaming Brandy, and drops it into the pitcher.

“Nuuu huu huuu! Babbeeeeeeh!!! Nu huwt babbeh! Wawas bad fow babbehs!”

The foal struggles a bit, but soon falls under the deadly liquid, sinking to the bottom of the pitcher.

The fluffies recoil in horror as they watch the execution. Almost all of them are crying, covering their eyes, or both.


Stanley reaches for a second.


She curls around her foals as his hand approaches, but Stanley is undeterred. He swings his open hand at her face, slapping her hard enough to send her sprawling over. She screams, but doesn’t recover in time to stop him from taking another foal.


Stanley takes the foal and throws it right in. It soon drowns as well.


“All of you had better be paying attention! Those that hide or cover their eyes get a beating!”

“Huu… Nu wike zampwe…” A fluffy from the crowd says. The other fluffies mutter similar comments.

Stanley turns towards the mare again.


The mare throws herself over her foal, screaming and crying. It’s useless.

Stanley grabs her by the throat and pulls her into the air, strangling her. She gurgles and thrashes, torn between gasping and begging. Stanley reaches under her spasming form, taking the final foal from under her. It chirps in his grasp as he takes it to the pitcher.


Stanley drops it in. It drowns.


The mare screams in anguish as she watches her final foal die. She falls to her belly, stripped of her mummahood.

“Did all of you see that?” Stanley says to the crowd.

“If you hurt an alicorn, all of your foals will die. So there’s no point in killing it. Just call for a human. We’ll take it away. That’s all you have to do! It’s not. Fucking. Hard.”

His hand lashes out towards brandy, but all that happens is that a finger points at her.

“Brandy here decided not to do that, and now her babbehs are dead. That’s not all either. Now we take her legs.”

The fluffies sob and hide as he restrains brandy’s legs. Brandy realizes what’s going on and begins to thrash, but it’s useless. Soon her legs are immobilized and Stanley’s saw is already position. She tries to beg one more time.

“Pweeze nu huwt weggies! Mummah sowwy! Nu mowe! Mummah wiww nebah huwt awicown ‘gain! Bwandy nee’ weggies! Pweeze! Nu!”

Stanley begins sawing the back legs. Brandy’s screams echo through the room as he removes her legs one by one. After a few minutes of sawing, her last leg finally comes off. He takes a hot iron to her bleeding stumps.

Brandy doesn’t even respond, having passed out during the amputations. Stanley holds her crying, bleeding, legless nugget of a body up for all the fluffies to see.

“You see this? This will be you if you stomp a foal. Brandy might get ‘forever sleepies’ now. All because she decided to be a bad fluffy, and hurt a babbeh. Don’t be stupid. Wait for us to get there.”

Stanley walks back to brandy’s pen and throws her in.

“I’ll have the B-block guys take her back later. She bred an alicorn, so we can’t throw her away just yet. Was the foal valuable?” Stanley says.

“No, it was misshapen. Looks like a birth defect. But you’re right. She still bred an alicorn. She’ll be getting alicorns at the breeding pits from now on. Looks like they won’t have to restrain her now either. Good work.” You say.

You help Stanley clean up and say your goodbyes. You still need to check up on Shae.

You walk to the sorting room. Someone’s waiting outside with a cart. You go past them and through the door.

“Grey and white. Pass.”

Shae puts the foal in a green box and writes something down on the mare’s file. Probably filling out a birth form. Looks like it isn’t this mare’s first time having her foals sorted, since they weren’t giving them back to her. You look at the cart she came in on. It says A-block. This should go smoothly…

“Brown and red… Pass.”

“Huu…” The mare mutters.

The mare watches teary eyed as her chirping foals are sorted out. There’s one in the red box, and three in the green. Shae picks up the final foal.

“Pink and white. Pass.”

“Nu! Dat bestest babbeh! Nu take bestest! Pweeze!” The mare cries.

“Cherry, we talked about this. You can only have the babies that we don’t need.” The worker says to her.

“Buh chewwy wub babbehs! Chewwy wub bestest babbeh mostest! Nu take bes’ babbeh!”

“We need these babies cherry. Look, you can keep your yellow baby! Aren’t you happy about that?”

“NU! Mah babbehs! Nu take bes’ babbeh!”

“CHERRY!” The worker yells.

Cherry shrinks down in fear, still crying.

“I told you that we would try being nice and letting you keep some babies, but if this is how you’re going to act, you’re not going to keep any babies!”

“NU! Chewwy sowwy! Nu take babbehs! Chewwy nee’ babbeh!”

“Then are you going to behave?”

“Yus! Chewwy wiww be gud mummah! Chewwy pwomise! Chewwy wiww take yewwow babbeh! Pweeze nu take babbehs 'gain!” She yells, shaking with fear.


Shae pushes the red box towards the cart. The worker takes cherry and her foal and puts them on the cart. Then he takes the file and starts wheeling the cart out.

“Ahem.” You say.

“Uhh, Yeah?” He says. Looks like he doesn’t know who you are. Lenny probably hired him.

“She just argued didn’t she? You have to write that down don’t you?”

“Well, I usually don’t bother if they give up. No point right?”

“No, you’re supposed to write it down if they argue, because it helps people establish a pattern of behavior when they look at the file. 12 incidences of argument and 2 tantrums says something a lot different than two tantrums alone. 2 Isolated tantrums is a weird incident. A ton of arguments and tantrums is a poorly behaved fluffy. How often do you ignore arguing?” You ask.

“Well, I don’t know. Usually if they don’t argue for too long…”

“Arguing is defined as refusing to do something after being told to do it twice. There’s a guideline behind the header page. It’s one sheet of paper with all the definitions. Is this fluffy even supposed to be in A-block?”

“Yes. She’s usually really behaved. This sort of thing usually happens during sorting. You can’t really blame her you know. You are taking her babies away…”

Good fucking lord, he’s a hugboxer. It happens. You need to hire people carefully for the upper blocks. Abusers can cause trouble if the fluffies are supposed to be well treated, but they don’t give fluffies a break when they pull bullshit. Hugboxers however…

“Gimme the file.” You say.

He stares at you for a second. Looks like the gears are finally starting to click. Gingerly, he hands it over.

Name: Cherry
Traits: Red fluff, Dark red mane, darker spot on midsection
Born: 4/30
Parentage: Sunflower / Ajax
Number of litters: 7
Minor offenses: Arguing - 3 Tantrums - 5
Major offenses: Defiance - 1 Screaming - 2 Kicking - 1

Five tantrums and only 3 arguments? That makes no sense. You flip down to the incidents pages.

Incident #1
Major offense - Defiance, screaming.

Cherry was misbehaving after her foals were taken from her, and started screaming at the humans in A block for her babies back. She also made bad poopies on purpose, as an act of defiance. She was put in the box for five minutes, then put back in for thirty minutes after she started screaming again. She stopped screaming after that.
Signature: Paul

Are you kidding me? 5 minutes in the fucking sorry box? That’s nothing! No shit she started screaming again! They didn’t even punish her! Your head hurts. You flip to the next page.

Incident #2
Major offense - Screaming, kicking.

Cherry wouldn’t stop screaming after sorting. Shat on me too, but didn’t seem intentional. Kept kicking me and the cage when I tried to put her back in. Was screaming for her foals. Gave her a few good licks with the sorry stick and she gave up.
Signature: Raul

“Are you Paul?” You ask.

“Uhh… Yeah… Who are you?” He asks.

“I’m the owner. I run this place. I’m your boss.” You say flatly.

“Yeah… I was kind of getting that feeling…”

“You’re too easy on these fluffies. 5 minutes in the sorry box for shitting on the ground? You should give 30 minutes if it were an accident.” You say. He shifts a bit.

“Well, Cherry’s pretty protective of her foals, but she’s a well behaved fluffy besides that. She argues a lot, but she always does what she’s asked in the end.” He says. You’re starting to get heated…

“Fluffies in A-block are supposed to be in there because of their good temperaments. How does she have a good temperament if she throws tantrums, screams and argues? We just had a fluffy kill 3 alicorns! She destroyed at least 2000 dollars worth of product! I do NOT want to be hearing that you’ve been ignoring offenses right now!” You seethe.

“…Wait, did rarity ever argue?” You ask.

“Rarity? Well, she did argue from time to time, but it was mostly just spats with other fluffies. She didn’t argue with us a lot…” He says. He’s avoiding eye contact. It’s seriously getting on your nerves.

“So she did argue.”

“Well, maybe a few times.”

“How many times? According to the guideline, how many times?”

“…Probably like… Three or four times?”

“Are you fucking kidding me!? Rarity was a shaky option before she went into the alicorn pens! Now you’re telling me that she had three or four unreported incidents!? That could have edged her out for the selections!”

“I… Sorry. I never saw the guideline page. I didn’t know that the page was double sided. I think a lot of people don’t know either. Everyone is just going by intuition…”

NOBODY READS-” You start, then stop. It’s like someone dropped a vial of lactic acid on to your brain. You need to calm down.

“Oh… You are making me so angry…” You say, wearily.


Neither of you say anything for a moment. This is probably a tense moment for him…

You’re not going to fire him. Or anyone else in A-block for that matter. You’ll go by later today and show them the information. Set expectations properly this time. If they keep fucking around, then they’re fired. You pick up the clipboard again

You read over the litters. She has about a 55% clearance rate. An aggressive nature, and a strong maternal instinct. Guess what.

“Arguing in this case is more like a tantrum then right?”


“And the tantrums are probably more like major offenses right?”

“Yeah I guess…”

“So her record actually fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“Well… I guess so, but she was a good fluffy besides all that. It seemed wrong to send her to B-block.”

“Yeah, she’s not going to B-block.” You say.

“Wait, you’re sending her to C-block?” He says, shocked.

“No.” You say.

“Send her to E-block.” You continue.

“E-block? That’s a little extreme…”

“No, she’s a perfect fit. Aggressive, maternal, poor clearance rate. Sandy’s probably going to start looping soon, so she can replace her.” You say with a sigh.

“Sandy’s gonna what? Is she sick or something? She was only sent there a month ago.” He says. Looks like he doesn’t know anything about E-block, only that it’s bad. Blissful ignorance. How nice.

“Once you get an opportunity, take her to the doors past the break room. Put her in the cage next to the purple and red one, and tell Seth to hook her up to the harness. Then get back to work. I’ll come by later.”

“Alright… I’ll do that then.” He gingerly wheels the mare off.

Great. Now you’re even more pissed off. Still two blocks to check. Fucks sake.

You walk to the end of the hallway and out of the building. D-block is a special block that lies outside the main building. You walk through the yard and to a small brick building. There’s a line outside. Looks like it’s about to open up.

You walk past the line. Someone says something as you enter the building but you just say “Staff!” and go in anyways.

Inside you see the cashier standing in front of a lot of cages. All of them have price tags on them. And fluffies inside them.

Most of the fluffies don’t understand what’s happening. They might think that they’re being sold to new owners, but some have been around the bend, and have not been sold yet. Those ones are crying.

You don’t feed the fluffies in D-block. They don’t need it usually, but if some don’t get bought, there is a bag of expired pet food somewhere. Probably. Ideally however, they wouldn’t need it.

“Hey Gill, you about to open?”

“Yeah, just need you to set up the ATM. It’s running low.”

“It is huh?”

You walk to the back and open a safe. You pull a bunch of bills from it and load them into the machine. You can’t have people paying with their cards, so it’s critical that the ATM is working, though you charge a high premium, so as to discourage reliance on it. Still, some people just come down and pay it anyways.

“How have sales been?”

“Oh alright, pretty good clearance. Number 7 over there hasn’t sold in two days, so if she doesn’t sell today, she’s toast. Hah, get it? Toast?”

“It’s more like ash honestly, but yeah. I get it. I guess.” You tell him.

“Meh.” He says.

You glance over to the cage. Inside is a blue mare. She’s missing an eye, but other than that, nothing seems to be wrong with her.

“Lucky number seven. She may just survive this all yet. Wouldn’t be the first time a fluff didn’t sell. Even if it is pretty rare.” Gill says

He takes a tag from under the register and sticks it on to her cage.

Last chance! 50% off!

“Alright boss, I’d say we’re ready for action. You wanna watch for a bit?”

“Sure, I’m making my rounds anyways, might as well watch it in action.”

You go over to the door and slowly open it. You make sure everyone forms an orderly line to the register. It’s pretty easy, since most of these people are repeat customers, and already know the game. Gill starts his intro.

“Alright people listen up, here’s the game. You can buy one fluffy at a time. Once you do, You have to go to the back of the line if you want another one. We only take cash here, obviously, and you should really only be paying in cash. You also should have brought cash, but there’s an ATM over there if you need it. If you don’t have tools, there’s some on the back wall. You can do whatever you want, within reason, except take the fluffies home with you. We don’t have a license for selling fluffies. Prices are non-negotiable. Oh, and we have a special today. Number seven over here has gone unsold for two days! which means that if she doesn’t sell tonight, she’s toast. Heh, get it? Toast?”

A few people in the audience chuckle. Most don’t.

“Yeaaaah… Well Rosey’s 50% off today, so you can get her for cheap! Don’t pass her up, okay?”

“WHA!? NU! NU HUWT WOSEY!” Rosey screams, as she backs into a corner of the cage. A couple of people in the room grin. She’s not helping her chances.

“See if you can choose a fluffy before you get here. It’ll help this process along. Alright, first in line, come up!”

Surprisingly, the first person doesn’t pick Rosey, but a smiling blue fluffy in the back. Looks like a stallion who failed his review. He pays for it and takes the cage to a table. The cage is really a plastic box with an open top. Helps contain messes.

Some of the fluffies moan and complain with jealousy as the stallion is taken away. Others shut their eyes tight. It’s clear who’s been here before and who hasn’t.

“Nice mistah be nyu daddeh?” The stallion asks hopefully.

“Yeah you little shitweasel. I’ll be your daddeh…”

You see him reach into his pocket and grabs a pair of needle nose pliers. This is going to get ugly…

He shoves the pliers into the fluffy’s eye, skewering it through the cornea! A perfect bullseye! You’re impressed. The fluffy doesn’t seem to recognize his skill however.


He doesn’t pull it out like you were expecting though. Instead, he opens the pliers, tearing his eye in half. Starting at the cornea, a bloody tear soon begins to form from the center to the edges of the eyeball.


Once he’s satisfied with the damage, he aims for the other eye. The fluffy tries to dodge, but he grabs his head and keeps in still. Another perfect thrust penetrates the fluffy’s cornea again. The fluffy lets out another spine chilling scream. You don’t know how this guy is so good…

He tears the other eye in half, leaving the ruined eyes bleeding in their sockets, and leaving the screaming fluffy behind. He walks out of the building. Looks like he wants that one to suffer longer. If that’s so, the fluff will probably make it. They almost always do. These abusers are all experts, you swear. Must be first hand experience or something…

You turn to look at the other fluffies. Their cries of jealousy have turned to silence. The veterans are sobbing. Some of them haven’t been selected yet, but others have survived being bought. You’re not sure whether that’s lucky or not.

Another customer comes up and points at a cage. Rosey’s cage. Rosey goes absolutely ballistic!


Gill takes his payment and takes Rosey’s cage from the shelf. She’s still screaming and shitting the cage up in fear.


The customer takes her to a table. He puts on some thick gloves and takes a small bottle out of his bag. Inside are two huge ants. Are those…

“Hey, are those bullet ants?” You ask.

“Yeah, they are. I got 'em a month ago. They’re great.”

“Don’t lose any of them in here. I don’t want anyone getting stung by those things.”

“Yeah, no problem. There’s only two, it’ll be fine.”

You’re not so sure, so you tell Gill about the two bullet ants. Normally you would leave now, but you kinda want to see a bullet ant sting in real life…


“Rosey, I’ll make you a deal.” The human says.


“If you stay completely silent and still, I won’t give you ‘worstest owwies’.” He said.

“W- Wha? N- Nu owwies… Weawwy?” Rosey says. Almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, really. I just want my ant friends to see a fluffy. If you stay completely still, I won’t hurt you. How does that sound?”

“…Huuuuu… …Otay…” Rosey says, still crying.

“Alright! Alright. Good…”

He shakes the bottle up. Not violently, but thoroughly. Those ants are probably expensive. After that, he lets them on to Rosey’s back.

“Buggy fwens scawwy…”


Some time passes. The ants dig around a little in her fluff. Then they find flesh. Then, finally, one of them stings.

“Owwies! Why buggy fwen huwt… HUWT- SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

A deafening bellow erupts from the tiny fluffy, as she begins to thrash around in pain. The customer deftly removes one of the ants, but another is stuck underneath her now.


It looks like the ant is still stinging her. Ouch.

“SCREEEEEE- GAK! Wowstest buwnie huwties! Wowstest- Gak!”

Something’s wrong. She’s tensing up and choking.

“Grawwggrreeg!” She gurgles.

Her whole body stops moving and starts curling up. Her eyes are wide open in pain and overflowing with tears as she contracts, tighter and tighter. She continues to gurgle in pain, but even those are growing quieter as the poison sends the nerves of her body haywire. Her muscles tense up harder than they ever have before. She begins shaking, struggling to pull her own limbs open, but it’s no use. Her body won’t listen to her. Every muscle in her body tenses up more and more until finally…


The bones in one of her legs break. A muffled scree is heard, then, another snap. And another. And another. All four legs are broken. The rest of her body contracts into the now available space.

Her eyes are now darting around wildly, focusing on nothing in particular. She can’t even shit, her muscles are all completely locked up. Her once pleading eyes are now searching wildly, as if surrounded by invisible monsters. You did hear that bullet ant stings could cause hallucinations. They must be really intense for something the size of a fluffy. But the break from reality doesn’t last long.

She gurgles one last time, and with one last, powerful scream, her body finally breaks in half as her own back muscles snap her spine in two. Her heart stops a few moments later.


“Yeah, no shit. That was awesome! These things were worth the money! Whooo!”

“Well, have fun, I gotta go.”

You start to leave.

“Yeah, you too man! Heh.”

He collects his other ant, then gets back in line, still laughing.

You didn’t see Rarity in there. Not surprising, since you didn’t expect her to survive liquidation day anyways. Still, it’s disappointing that you weren’t able to question her, but it seems like you found the real problems anyways. You need to review the files for A-block as well today. Just need to finish the inspection. You come up on a pair of doors. Next to it is a rack of hooks with a number of rings on them, all with numbers and lights on above them. E-Block.

You enter through the double doors, and come into a room full of crying fluffies. You pass by a few talking ones.

“Huu… Pweeze nu come out tummeh babbehs… Pweeze stay in mummah… Nu come out… Huuuu…”

Sniff Nu wan tummeh babbehs… Babbehs nu fow owwies… Nu wan owwie babbehs… Huuu… Wan die…”

Looks like that second one’s getting close to looping. You may have to replace her soon too. You should probably just make a waitlist for E-Block. Not today though, you have too much work to do today…

Ahead, you see that guy from the sorting room. He’s talking to Seth. He seems perturbed. Once you get there, they tell you the story. It went a little something like this…

Paul wheeled cherry’s cage into E-block, passing by a number of crying mares. Some of them didn’t like being bred, but usually they got over it pretty quickly even if they didn’t. Fluffies were weird like that, but he was concerned with the sheer despair he was seeing all around him, and the horrible conditions that the fluffies here were being kept in.

Almost all of them were crying, most were begging their foals not to come, which was odd. Usually a fluffy would be ecstatic to find that she had tummy babies, but these ones were all crying about them. All of them were also in these weird looking harnesses and tied to their cages. The cable seemed to connect to a point at the back wall of the cage, and every cage smelled horrible. The reason soon became clear as he saw the strange rubber scraps that were serving as impromptu fluffy litter. Another note was the bowls. One was full of water, but the other was empty. It had a metal pipe hanging down above it. Weird… Was Cherry really going to stay here from now on?

He looked for the fluffy that Cherry was going to be bunking with from now on. It was supposed to be purple and red, so he scanned around the room for it. While he was searching, he bumped the table of a mare. She looked up at him through her tears, and then, with an “eeeep!”, she hid behind her hooves, muttering about munstahs. These were not the fluffies he was used to. Fluffies were usually affable and energetic bundles of joy, not these depressed and fearful creatures he saw now. Even these conditions were not enough to cause that kind of reaction…

After a while, he decided to just ask a fluffy if they knew who he was looking for. They must have met each other when the workers let them out to play right?

He approached a cage at random, going up to the front, he greeted the fluffy with a “hey.”. But this cage happened to contain a mare with foals. An E-block mare with foals. Who was now being approached by an unfamiliar human.


“NU! MUNSTAH COME! MUMMAH SABE BABBEH!” One of her foals cries.

“Uhuuuhuuu mummah hewp!” Her other foal screams.

"What? What are you talking about? I’m not going to hurt you or your babies! I just wanted to ask you a question!


She screams and wraps her two remaining legs around her foals. They scream in her grip, begging for release as she nearly crushes them in fear.

“I don’t… Look, it’s okay! I’m not going to hurt you! I’m a nice human!”

His insistence on his own niceness only seems to drive her to new heights of fear. Looks like one of her previous abusers used that line too…


As she screams, she releases her foals from her grip and backs away. Then suddenly, she brings down her hooves on her first foal, cracking it’s spine! It screams in agony!

"W- What the hell are you doing!? Paul yells.

She continues stomping on her own foal! A fluffy is a pretty weak creature, but it still has weight. Once she starts putting her weight behind the stomps, she crushes the first one completely flat! The other one screams in terror as it watches it’s sister’s murder!

Paul is fully panicking, trying to get to the mare in order to restrain her, but the lock on the cages in unfamiliar to him. He’s an A-block worker. They don’t have cages. He wastes precious seconds negotiating the locking mechanism. Too many.


She turns to her other foal and pins it down! It screams for mercy!


She brings her weight down on this one as well. It’s screaming slowly dies down as she smashes it’s skull repeatedly. By the time Paul actually manages to open the cage, the both foals have been flattened.

“What the hell is wrong with you!? Why would you do that!? Are you insane!?” Paul yells.

“MUNSTAH NU HUWT BABBEHS! MUMMAH SABE BABBEHS! Mummah sabe babbehs… Uhuuuhuuuhuuuuu!!!”

“What’s going on here?” Seth says, Acting like he just got there, even though he was only five cages away when the mare first started screaming… Not that Paul is in any state for deductions.

“I don’t know! She just started screaming and crushed her foals!”

“Really? Wow! You got her to kill them without even touching them? You’ve got the deathtouch my dude!” Seth joked.

“What? This isn’t funny!”

“HUUUUUUU! Why hoomin wet munstah come!? Uhuuhuuuu! BABBEEEHS!!!” The mare screams.

“He’s not a monster. He’s one of us.” Seth says.


“He works here. He handles fluffies just like us. He wasn’t going to hurt your foals.”

The mare is in disbelief. She stares ahead at Seth and Paul.

“Bu- Buh…”

She looks at her crushed foals. Her eyes widen. Her tears overflow. Her little fluffy jaw drops. She begins to shake.

“B- Babbehs?”

Her foals are silent.


“Oh shit, I think she’s gonna…”


“Holy shit! She’s actually looping! Hahahahaha!”

And that’s about when you arrived. So in essence, Paul took cherry in to E-block, ran afoul of one of the mares, and this whole mess is the result. Two dead foals and a looping mare. Cherry still isn’t in her cage.

You sent the harrowed Paul on his way. He wheels the empty cart away as you put cherry in her new home.

“Nu wike dis pwace! Pweeze wet Chewwy an babbeh out!”

You hook her into the harness and leave. As you walk by, you see the other mare, Dusk, in another cage with her 6 foals. Looks like someone already brought her here. All of them are crying, and Dusk has some slimy tannish-brown substance smeared on her muzzle. And a swollen eye.

“Mummah sowwy babbehs… Mummah wiww be gud fwuffy fow babbehs… Nu wet munstahs come… Huu…”

Her foals do nothing but chirp, not understanding the situation they’re in. They’ll figure it out in time. Dusk is in for it when liquidation day comes. A new fluffy with six foals? She won’t go for less than 60 bucks. Speaking of which, you need to review your sales report. Seth should be finished by now. You call him over.

“Hey, Seth!”

“Yes?” He says, coming over to you.

“You got the reports?”

“Yep! Here.”

He hands you the reports. He already had them. Perfect. Seth was a good worker. You were a little wary of recruiting abusers at first, but you needed some people who could handle E-block without burning out. You had that issue with people in D-block until you lucked out on Gill, but you decided to go back onto that owwieland website to see if you could recruit someone for E-block. Seth had a channel on there, and you offered him a job. He said he would come down so long as you let him record occasionally. You told him to not show people’s faces in the recording, and he agreed. Now he manages E-block alongside two other abusers. Unlike the average person, Seth seems to genuinely enjoy his time in places like this.

You look over the list. 1246 dollars? Holy shit, nice. You look over the fluffs. A few stand out. Rarity obviously sold for over the mean, but another sold for 250 dollars! Sandy. You remember her now! You made a deal with Ewan that she would sell for more than 100 bucks! Looks like you won! And by a lot! 250 is the second highest single mare sale so far. You also see another thing that piques your interest, though not in a good way.

“Seth? Is this a typo? Did this fluffy sell for five dollars? 10 dollars is the minimum.”

“Oh no, it’s not a typo, that’s the one that shit on Dean. I know that 10 dollars is the usual limit, but strays don’t tend to go for much. Plus, I thought I’d give her the E-Block welcome.”


Seth was a good worker yeah, but he sometimes overstepped his authority. You put up with it though, as long as it wasn’t egregious.

“Is Sandy looping?” You ask.

“No, not yet, but she’s almost there. I think she’s got one more liquidation day in her.”

“Let’s go check. I also want to see the 5 dollar one.”

You both head on over to Sandy’s cage. She’s laying on her stomach on the inside, Eyes shut, crying.

“Lets see here…”

You take the clipboard off the cage.

Name: Sandy
Traits: White fluff, Sandy mane, Green eyes.
Born: 1/19
Parentage: Miranda / Dynamite
Number of litters: 9
Minor offenses: None
Major offenses: Killing foals - 1*
Notes: Killed an alicorn. See Litter 9.

Spotless record. Single offense… Just like Marcus was saying…

You flip through the pages.

Litter 9
Date: 15/5
Stallion: Harry
Total number: 6
Red/Orange - Pass
Yellow/White - Pass
Green/Blue - Fail
Black/Gray - Pass
Red/Green- Pass
Blue/white - Alicorn

Clearance Rate: 80% - Pass SEE NOTES
Notes: #5 was an alicorn, she killed it on purpose. See the incident report.

You flip the page over.

Incident #1
Major offense: Killing foals

Had 6 foals, including an alicorn. She was distressed by it, so I explained what alicorns really were, and told her that if she took good care of it, she could go to the alicorn pens and live good. She argued a bit, but eventually agreed to take care of it. I didn’t think anything of it, but when I came back, she had killed the alicorn. I was pissed, so I demanded an explanation, but she told me that it was a monster and I was stupid for wanting them so badly. I told her that I didn’t care what she thought, and that she should have just listened. She started spewing insults and clinging to her foals, saying that she didn’t want her foals to be around monsters, and that she was glad she stomped it. I kicked her then, but didn’t injure her. Left to cool off, didn’t remove any legs yet. Called the boss about it.
Signature: Stanley

Well that was equal parts enlightening and enraging. You put the clipboard on to the cage with a slam and lean in towards Sandy’s cage.

“Well you little shit, Still glad you killed my fucking alicorn?”

Sandy opens her eyes.


“You know, it’s funny. Red four asked her the same question, and when she said yes, he could tell right away that she was lying. He didn’t even know anything about the situation! Dude’s a legend.” Seth says.

“I asked you a question shitrat. Are you glad you killed my alicorn?” You repeat.

“Pweeze nu mowe…”

“You should have heard the rant she went on with Red four. Screaming about how humans only love monsters and don’t love fluffies. Hilarious. I got it on video if you wanna watch!” Seth interjects.

“No thanks.” You say.

“Did you do a good job of protecting your ‘babbehs’? Where are they?” You say to sandy.

“Pweeze… Jus wet sandy gu… Sandy sowwy. Sandy wiww do anyfin hoomins say nao. Jus pweeze nu make Sandy stay hewe anymowe…”

“Well, maybe if you had just fucking listened instead of thinking that you knew anything, you wouldn’t be here. The others aren’t here. They’re living it up in A-block without you. We’re even letting them keep some of their babies now.”

She starts crying even more.

“Pweeze mistah… Take tummeh babbehs 'way… Nu wan mowe heawt huwties…”

“Oh yeah, that’s a good point. We need to make sure you don’t crush them. Seth.”

“Yeah boss?”

“Pillow her.”

Seth takes her out of the cage and puts her on an empty table. He grabs a hacksaw and ties Sandy down. She doesn’t respond, or even open her eyes until the saw touches her flesh.


“I know! Exciting isn’t it!? You’re about to enter the glamorous world of sessility!” Seth says.

Seth works like a master, expertly sawing off limbs and sewing them back up like he’s done it hundreds of times. Hell, he might really have done it hundreds of times…

Sandy continues screaming throughout the process, which goes extremely fast thanks to Seth’s prodigious skills. You’re almost disappointed with how short her agony is. Almost.

Seth finishes quickly, sewing her limbs back up, then picking her up and dropping her spasming form back into her cage. He puts her in the harness again with similar deftness. Sandy is already starting to speak by the time he’s done. Crazy how tough these shitrats are when it’s something they can survive…

“W-Wowstest weggie owwies! Huuuhuuhuuuu! Why nu can move weggies!?”

“You’ll never move them again. We took them.” You tell her. Seth is carrying the legs to the grinder. Sandy spots him doing so.

“Nu! NU! Gif weggies back! Nu wan num weggies! Pweeze! Why take weggies way!?”

Seth throws the legs into the grinder. They eat them up and spew gore out the other end. Straight into the vat. Looks like Sandy’s eating her legs tonight.

“NUUUUUUU!!! Need weggies!!! Why take weggies!? Jus wet Sandy gu! Pweeze! Uhuuhuuhuuuuu!!!”

“Oh no you little shit.”

You grab her snout and point it towards you.


“You’re going to stay here for a long time. I took your legs away so that you can’t kill your foals. You’re going to sit in that fucking cage as a useless nugget and watch your worthless ‘babbehs’ get tortured to death over and over again until you fucking die. I’ll make sure of it. We’ll keep breeding you. More ‘owwie babbehs’. Over and over again. Forever.”

Her once lifeless eyes finally widen. Tears fill them once more.

“Nu! Nu pweeze! Babbehs nu fow owwies! Babbehs fow huggies an wub! Pweeze nu mowe heawt huwties! Sandy nu can haf nu mowe heawt huwties!” She screams. She looks up at you. You say nothing.

“Pweeze nu huwt babbehs!” She cries.

“Eat shit.” You say. She’s silent for a while…

“Babbehs… Babbehs gon haf owwies foevah?”

“Sure are shitrat. That’s what makes me the dough.”


“Nothing to say?”

She remains silent for a long time. Then, all at once, she screams!

NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!” She bellowed. She had a real talent for those earsplitting screams.

“NU WAN MUNSTAHS! NU WAN OWWIE BABBEHS! NU WAN HEAWT HUWTIES! NU WAN! NU CAN! NU CAN ANYMOWE! WAN DIE! WAN DIE! WAN DIE!” Sandy screamed, repeating the mantra continuously with panicked fervor.


Once you’re done with sandy, you go over to the new cage. The one with the fuckup. You pull the file off and read it.

Name: C-233
Traits: Purple fluff, Red mane, Blue eyes.
Born: N/A - Feral stock. Introduced 8/5.
Parentage: N/A
Number of litters: 1
Minor offenses: Arguing - 1
Major offenses: Defiance - 1, Harming foals - 1, Escape attempt - 1, Attacking fluffies - 1, Sorry poopies - 1
Notes: All major offences committed in 10 day period. Needed memory hole for sorry poopies. 6 Fluffies killed in coverup. Reccomend for disposal.

That’s quite the rap sheet. 5 major offences in 10 days? You flip over to her sales record.

E-Block Sales Record #1
Date: 9/28
Foals: 3
Total sale price: 5$*
Notes: Spectacularly low interest in this shitrat. People don’t really come out here just to torture ferals, they can do that in any old alleyway. Had to lower the price to five dollars and she barely sold even then. A shame since she’s got such a good maternal instinct, but she just can’t shake that “feral” stain. I don’t suspect we’ll make much off her in the future. -Seth

Well, that tears it. You’re not going to keep her in E-Block if she’s selling that bad. Sure, 5$ is still more than you would get for 3 shit foals, but she’s incurring an oppurtunity cost just by being here. She has to go.

“Pweeze wet fowty nine out nice mistah! Nu wan be hewe anymowe!”

“Yeah, sure, one sec.”

“WEAWWY!? Yay! Fank ou mistah!”

You load the fluff onto a cart and start pushing it out. You also tell seth to follow you. Both of you talk as you walk down the hallways.

“So, the mares often have issues in the breeding pens here.” You start.

“Yeah, sure do. It’s hilarious.”

“Well, someone mentioned the idea of putting the E-block fluffies in with smarties.”

“Oh my god, please tell me we’re doing that. That would be awesome.” Seth says.

You exit the hallway and go past C-block on the way to your final destination.

“I guess you’re behind the idea too huh? I was thinking we could use that alicorn that turned smarty as a stud, but we might need more than one smarty for the whole block.”

“Say no more, I know a guy who’s breeding the little shits. He sells them for 40 bucks each. 50 Bucks pillowed.”

“Breeding smarties or collecting smarties? I don’t want ferals. Ferals shit on people.”

“No, no. He’s got a whole program where he plays like, voice recordings to them or something. Like those self affirmation videos, but it’s all shit designed to inflate their egos.”


You pass through the foal pens. The mare jumps up against the cage, but falls back down as she only has one back leg. She keeps trying to shake the cage, but that’s not happening with a cage this heavy. You decide to just ignore her.

“Why meanie cage nu wet mummah tu babbehs no mowe? Babbehs! Mummah hewe! Mummah am hewe! Babbehs!” She yells. A few foals turn towards the noise, but they just go back to nursing off the crying mares.

“Uhuuhuuu… Why babbehs nu hewe mummah…”

“Do you think that guy will take adult fluffs? I’d rather him train up some of our own stallions. That way we can avoid feral bullshit.” You say.

“Well, maybe. I could get in contact with him. How many do you want?”

“Probably like… Eight. We’re going to expand E-Block. We have to with these kinds of profit margins.” You wave the sales report around. Seth laughs.

“So does that mean I’m getting a raise?”

“Eehhh, maybe. Depends on how much we end up expanding it.”

You pass by A-block. The fluffy inside sees the fluffs playing outside. They don’t pay her any mind however.

Gasp Dis new home!? Yay! Fank ou mistahs! Fowty nine wub nice…”

You pass it by and go back out into the hallway. The fluffy in the cage looks at the closing doors, then back to you, repeats that motion a few times, then sinks to the floor of the cage with a quiet huu. Meanwhile, seth is already on the phone with the smarty guy.

“Yeah, so do you think you can do it?” Seth says into his cellphone. You just listen.

“Cool! How about seven smarties?” He says.

“Nah man, you can just come down here! I’m right next to the owner right now. I’ll text you the address.”

“Cool, cool. We’ll hand off the fluffs to you and you make em smart, then we’ll come by and buy them back. 40 times 7 is… 280 dollars right?”

“Perfect! See you then.”

Seth ends the call and starts texting an address to the guy. Once he’s done, he turns to you.

“Looks like the E-Block mares getting smarties from now on.” He says.

“Alright. Let’s make this happen. I’ll tell dean to pick some out. Just let dean know what time the guy’s going to be here.”

You pass through the final set of double doors and enter your destination. You don’t mince ferals due to the possibility of disease, so to dispose of her, you needed to bring her here. The incinerator room.


“Oh right, you remembered this thing didn’t you! Huh.”

“Pweeze nu gif foebah sweepies! Fowty nine sowwy!”

You open the door to the incinterator, and take the mare out of the harness.

Honestly, she should have gone in here in the first place. She was never supposed to survive. You take her and drop her into the chute, but she grabs onto the side almost immediately! She must have seen another mare doing it. They can sometimes do that inadverently when the chute gets clogged.

“Go down you little shit.” You say.

“Pweeze! Fowty nine wiww be gud fwuffy! Fowty nine wiww gif nice mistah wots ob wub an huggies! Pweeze!”

“No thanks.”

You start shoving her down into the fire.


“I don’t give a fuck. Nobody gives a fuck.” You say.

“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck either.” Seth adds.



You reel up and punch her in the face, full force. You feel her nose break as you follow through, sending her sprawling all the way down the chute. She screams one last time as the flames engulf her body. Soon though, her screams die down, and all you can hear is the roar of the fire.

There now she lays, in the garbage bin with her family. Her foals have troublemaker genes. They might end up in here too. You look at your watch. It’s only been two hours. For fucks sakes.

You walk back out and towards Dean, so that you can discuss the smarty project, but that’s a different story.

Soon, both of you forget about the mare completely.

The incinerator hums softly.

Finally finished. I’m starting to get a little bit bored with this, and want to move on to other projects. The two afterstories are coming soon, expect those to be much shorter. Also maybe an epilogue after that, so we can have a nice round 10 for our part number.

Part 8

Soylent Brown Afterstory: Sandy


i never thought that people could make smarties before, it would be a excellent way to get smarties for whatever purposes. Great story btw, really gets that industrial abuse done

Quality work as always man, love to see it

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All good things must come to an end, but it’s been a marvelous ride.

Some people have it as a genetic flaw mutation in their headcanons and others present it as a programming glitch that is triggered by spoiling a fluffy. Mothers can thus trigger the glitch by having a ‘bestest babbeh’ and spoiling it from birth.


Place is hard on the ladies

i just want to see cherry’s demise at this point

Oof, you’re a bit late. Plus, an e-block fluffy typically doesn’t die until it starts looping, then it just goes to the grinder.

But i’ll see what I can do…

or you can make her suffer , Perhaps kill her “ Bestest baby.”

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I mean, simple suggestion. The grinder jams. They feed her to it, it goes partway and stops. Then they have to keep reversing and forwarding the gears so she’s just up and down in the grinder while they work on clearing the jam.

Absolutely paralyzed with pain, having been fed in back legs first, they finally unjam it and work her through it slow to ensure nothing goes wrong again. All of the rest of E-block witness this.



Well gee mister boss, maybe having the creatures who birth your money in constant pain, terror and fear isn’t a good idea. I’d expect a fucking 75 percent prebirth, malformed, or stillbirth pregnancies with this mill. Also seeing as how they can’t show faces in E block, only a matter of time before he gets busted for overt animal abuse. Biotoy defense ain’t gonna cover that kinda malicious torture.

What are you talking about? The conditions that the fluffies live in are just fine. And the biotoy defense will hold just fine. They don’t stop being “biotoys” because you’re a little mean to them.

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All’s well that ends well.

smarty projects sound like a fun arc to read when it comes!