Sorry this one is a bit shorter than the other parts. Hope you folk enjoy.
You reach into the hay. You feel a small squeeze on your finger. Not like a pinch more like someone grabbed your finger. You pull it out to see little shit head was latched onto your finger. Teeth first.
“Oooh feisty fucker.”
You say holding him up. The smarty starts hitting your leg.
“NU! BABBEH NU AM FUCKEW! GIB BABBEH BACKSIES! BESTEST BABBEH AWW SMAWTY HAB WEFT!”
He pleads.
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll make you a deal.”
You flick the foal on it’s nose making it let go.
“OWIES! SMEWW PWACE HUWTIES!”
He falls to the ground.
“Deaw? Wha deaw?”
The smarty asks.
“I’ll give you all the TV and sketti you could ever want… But you have to eat your foal.”
The smarty looks at you then looks down at the foal.
The foal speaks up.
“Dummeh munstah. Babbeh am bestest babbeh. Daddeh Neba num bestest babbeh ova dummeh TeeBee. Daddeh wub bestest babbeh moh Dan teeb-ACK Crunch”
Without a second thought the smarty bent down and bit off the foals head. He swallowed the rest of him afterwards.
“Otay mistah munstah. Smawty am weady foh TeeBee. Smawty Wuuuuub TeeBee!”
“Alright kid. Just wait while I finish things up.”
You walk over to the hanging babbehs. The filly has woke up and hasnt stopped screaming.
“BIGGEST OWIES! SPECIAW PWACE HAB WOWSTEST HUWTIES EBAAAAA!”
She screams.
“BUUHUUHUUHUU! SPECIAW WUMPS AM WUINED!”
The colt says.
The mothers stopped fighting and are both panting on the ground.
You take down the foal nunchucks and sit them on the ground. Immediately the two try to run to there mothers only to be jerked back once they reach the end both letting out a loud scree.
“Babbeh? POOPY FIWWY GUB BESTEST BABBEH HUWTIES!”
The Colts mother says.
“DUMMEH BABBEH HUWT BESTEST BABBEHS SPECIAW PWACE! MUMMAH SAB BESTEST BABBEH!”
The two mothers grab there foals pulling them apart. The foals screams are ignored. Now it’s just a battle of will the foals balls get ripped off? Or will the fillies hook rip straight through the vaginal wall and yank out.
“MUMMAH STAHP! BABBEH HAB WOWSTEST SPECIAW WUMP HUUHUUHUUUWTIES!”
The mare keeps pulling.
“MUMMAH MUMMAH NU! WET GO! BABBEHS SPECIAW PWACE FEEW WIKE IT GOING FOWEVEW SWEEPIES!”
They pull in their twisted tug of war.
Finally something gives.
“SCREEEE! NUUHUUHUU! STAHAAHAAHAAAAP!”
The hook in the colts ballsack rips through the skin pulling both it’s testicles with it. The tubes pull to until they rip off at once. The pain seems to send the colt into a kind of seizure.
“BABBEH! BABBEH! NU GO FOWEVEW SWEEPIES! HUUHUUHUUHUUU!”
The colts mother cries.
“Nu make sad wawahs babbehs. Mummah sab babbeh fwom meanie babbeh. Mummah wub ou.”
The filly continues to bleed heavily from it’s vagina. You can tell the pulling has caused the hook to do some major damage.
“It’s Otay babbeh. Ou no haf ta fank mummah.”
She says giving her filly Huggies.
“Aww how cute … BUT IT’S WRONG!”
You say as you pick up the fillies mummah.
“NU! NU GIB HUWTIES! NEE TAKE CAWE OB BABBEH!”
She screams as the filly lays there in a catatonic state.
“Nah I think she’ll be fine.”
You flip her to where her fat belly faces the roof before dropping her spine first on your knee bane style. You hear a loud crack.
“BACKY HUWTIES!..Huff huff whai mummah nu feew weggies. Nee weggies… Nu feew anyfin! Pwease hewp.”
“Oh look! Your little babbeh wants you.”
You say holding up the filly by the fishing line. She still doesn’t make a sound.
“Pwease nu huwt babbeh nu moh munstah.”
The mother asks.
“Oh I’m not going to. YOU ARE!”
You sit the foal down beside the mother. You grab the mothers front leg and bring it down as hard as you can on her skull leaving it as red mush.
“NUUHUUHUUHUU! BABBEH! MUMMAH SOWWY BABBEH! WAN DIE! WAN DIE!”
One down.
You look at the other mother still trying to hug her babbeh back to reality. You pick her up and pry the foal out of her hands.
“Mmmmmm! That there is good eatin!”
You say before ramming the half dead foal down her throat. She gags as you throw her across the room.
You walk over to the half fried toughie who’s still saying wan die. You take out the can of expanding foam and stick it in his nostril. You empty the rest of the can. It fills up his nose. Quickly coming out the other side. Finally it comes out of his mouth. He stops breathing. Two remain.
You look at orange. It appears he’s already suffering you tinctures effects.
“Ooooooog. Nee ta poopy. Why poopy pwace nu wowk. his stomach audibly rumbles. OOOOF! WOWK POOPY PWACE WOOHOOHOOHOOWK! HUUHUUHUU TUMMEH SUU MANY HUWTIES! su many… Su many huwties!”
Ahh the sweet sounds of a fluffy not shitting constantly. Now to complete his suffering. You pull a roll of duck tape out of your backpack.
“Oooo pwease munstah. Take meanie fwuff out ob poopy pwace. Fwuffy nee poopy suuuu bad!”
You grab his mouth and hold it shut. You put several layers of duct tape around his mouth and snout leaving only his nose free. Now he can suffer in silence. You’ll check on him later. You walk back to the smarty.
“Now. Who’s ready for sketti and TV?”
You say in a cheery tone.
“Smawty am weady foh bestest skettis an watchee da TeeBee munstah Daddeh! Smawty knu dat munstah Daddeh nu huwt smawty. Smawty am bestest fwuffy an desewb sketti an TeeBee.”
God the stupidity of these things will never cease to amaze you. You just brutally slaughtered his whole herd yet the minute you offer treats and trinkets he’s all happy and forgiving.
“Okay. Well the only way you can get in the human housie is by riding in my backpack.”
The smarty looks skeptical at first.
“Su… If smawty wides in backy packy smawty git skettis an teebee?”
He asks.
“Yep. All that and more.”
You say in the cheery tone.
He gets in and you zip it up. The whole trip to your tool shed you hear him talking to himself.
“Heehee. Dummeh munstah. Smawty knu he twick inta gibin smawty TeeBee. Smawty Wub TeeBee. Wosing Hewd am wowf habin teebee again. Smawty take howe housie. Make knu bettah hewd wif mawes an moh nummie babbehs!”
You consider just setting the bag on fire but this is gonna be so much more satisfying.
You walk into your shed. You’ve prepared for this.
You open a can of spaghettios and dump it in a bowl. You sit the bowl on your tool bench. Finally you take shithead out of the bag and place him on the tool bench too.
“Mmmmm. Dat am bestest sketti ebba. Fank ou munstah Daddeh. Smawty wub!”
He goes to walk to the bowl before you stop him.
“Ah ah ah. Before you eat the sketti you have to put your leggies in these bestest leggie bracelets!”
You say motioning towards the clamps you used way back to torture shithead.
“Fwuffy gwadwy takies pwetty bestest weggie bwacewets.”
As soon as he sticks his first leg in one you hurry and tighten it down.
“OWIES! WEGGIE HAB HUWTIES!”
He screams. Too late now fucker.
You force his other legs into the clamps.
“HUUHUUHUUU! Ou say ou gib sketties an TeeBee if fwuffy Nummie bestest babbeh!”
He says.
“Oh and I am… Never said you could eat the sketti though.”
You move the bowl just out of reach of his mouth.
You place a portable DVD player in front of him and plug in it’s charger. You pull out the DVD.
“Fluffy TV presents. Fluffies in skettiland 1-8. I’ll just put this on and have it to loop.”
The intro plays and it gets to the first musical number.
“Fwuffies wub sketti an fwuffies wub gud hugs!
Fwuffies wub sketti buh fwuffies nu wike bugs!”
You can see him drooling.
“Huuhuu pwease mistah gib sketti! Nee sketti! NEE Sketti!”
“Ok. I’ll let you have it. I just need to do one thing.”
You walk over to him.
“Wha dat munstah?”
You grab him by the bottom jaw and pull.
“EEEEEEEE! CRACK”
You feel the jawhinge snap. His bottom jaw dangles limply.
“There ya go. Now you can have it all you want!”
You say moving the bowl where he can reach it. He desperately tries to eat it but all he manages to do is get sauce on his chin and spill some on the bench.
“Hope you enjoy your dinner and a movie. I’ll be back after you’ve starved to death. Toodles!”
You leave as he tries to thrash about.
“UUUUHUUHUUHUUHUUU! AHH ESTEST AAAHEEH! UU AHH OOIEEE ETTI AA TEEHEE! HUUHUUHUUHUU!”
You shut the door and walk inside. Taking off all your gear.
You open the safe room door and as usual all three Fluffies are sitting there waiting after hearing you come in.
“Am it Nummie tim Daddeh?”
Frosting asks.
“Wassbewwy miwkie pwaces an awmos empty mistah steeb. Can wassbewwy pwease hab Nummies foh miwkies? Bwackbewwy am drinkie wots ob miwkies.”
Rassberry asks.
“I need to start buying you that milk producing kibble.
Especially if one foal is draining you that fast. Anyways. Come on out guys. Let’s get you all fed.”
A couple days pass. You’re standing in front of your mirror primping. You spray yourself with cologne.
“Daddeh smeww suuuu pwetty.”
Frosting says.
“Thanks kid. Daddy’s gotta look his best. You know how long it’s been since your old dad’s had a date?”
You say.
“Fwosin nebah see Daddeh hab date.”
You look down at her.
“… You’re lucky you’re cute you know that?”
You finish and walk with frosting to her safe room.
“Alright you guys know the drill. I’ll be back tonight and I’m locking the door. No bad poopies, no fighting, and no biting your mom’s milky place blackberry.”
You say.
“Oh tum on! Bwackbewwy onwy accidentwy bite miwky pwace once. Nu could git nuff miwkies out.”
“Like I said. Don’t do it again. Drink slowly. You don’t need to drink a gallon at once. I understand you’re used to having to drink as much as you can before your old mummah stopped feeding you but here you don’t have to do that. Raspberries milkies aren’t going anywhere.”
You turn on fluff TV and lock the door. You leave the house. Before you go you decide to check on shit head and orange. Since orange is the farthest you drive out there first.
The smell is horrible. You cleaned the other corpses out but there lays orange. His stomach distended. His eyes milky. What looks like shit coming out of his nostrils. He’s dead. Whether he suffocated on his own shit or died of infection you don’t care. He died suffering and that’s all that mattered.
You head back to the shed. You can hear the DVD player still looping.
There lay shit head. Still alive but barely. Just in those few days he’s already skeletal. You see his ribs sticking out. His spine on display through his fluff which is falling out due to malnutrition. Dried poop lay in a pile behind him. You can tell there hasn’t been fresh in days.
“Oh. Sorry to interrupt. I’ll leave you to your precious TV shit head!”
As he hears your voice he makes one last attempt at pleading.
“EEEEEEEE! ET UHHYY OOOOT! EEEEE! EEEEEEEHEEEHEEEHEEE!”
“Sorry kid. Don’t speak retard. See ya when you’re dead!”
You get in your car and drive off to meet Sandra.
This was a great week.
if any herd does anything to that little dingle or if rassberry or moses decide the house would be better one lighter, i dont see it happening mind they seem a good bunch 
