Boy this one was fun. I’ve got something special planned for Mr smarty. Hope you folks enjoy.
After you get back home you take off your gear. You wash the black foal thoroughly.
“EEK! WAWAH BAD FOH BABBEH!”
Despite his protests. You consider giving him to frosting but you decide to give him to rassberry instead. After all she’s already producing milk.
“Wassbewwy take widdwe babbeh. How could dummeh mummah do dat ta babbeh? Babbehs am nu foh Nummies! Cum hewe widdwe babbeh. Wassbewwy be nyu mummah. Wassbewwy hab pwenty ob miwkies foh babbeh!”
You knew keeping the two was a good idea. If you thought even for a minute they had a bad bone in their little bodies you wouldn’t have.
The foal waddles up to rassberry.
“Nice fwuffy weawy be nyu mummah foh babbeh?.. Sniffle SU MANY HEAWT HAPPIES! HUUHUUHUU!”
He yells running up to rassberry to give Huggies. She licks the fluff on top of his head. He coos in delight.
“Babbeh wub nyu mummah! Owd mummah Neba gib babbeh Huggies ow wickies!”
You look down at the bunch.
“Well we’re definitely not calling you Nummie. Hmm… I’ll name you Blackberry.”
You say. You feel so original.
“Babbeh hab nyu namesies? Babbeh am bwackbewwy?.. BESTEST BWIGHT TIME EBA!”
He yells.
You sit there thinking to yourself. While you didn’t hear them say anything about a bestest you know that if they have a designated poopy babbeh then there’s definitely a bestest.
You should be able to figure it out. The bestest are always fat fucks claiming that it’s not fat that it’s muscle… Kind of reminds ya of your uncle earl when he gets drunk at a BBQ.
“Poow babbeh. Bwackbewwy nee wub an Huggies. I be nyu Daddeh.”
Moses says.
“Wha bout Fwosin?”
She says excitedly.
“You can be his aunt.”
You say.
“GASP FWOSIN AM AUNTIE!”
“BABBEH HAB NYU DADDEH, MUMMAH, AN AUNTIE! BABBEH WUB NYU FAMIWY HUUHUUHUU!”
Warms your heart… Now to plan brutal fluffy murder
You’ve decided the appropriate punishment for eating their own kids. You’ll dig out the fryer tomorrow.
The next day after breakfast you get the old dusty fryer out of your shed. You don’t bother cleaning it.
You load the fryer, a tank of propane, and a few bottles of cooking oil in the back of your truck. You also grab the digging tools and fencing you used last time.
You grab your ghillie suit and head out locking the door behind you.
You reach the barn and start unloading all your stuff.
You decide to start with the fence. You hear them jabbering about scary noises the whole time you work but you set up the fence around the entrance to prevent any escape attempts. You don your ghillie suit and take your cooking supplies inside.
“Nice munstah am backsies. Wub nice munstah!”
You hear one say. You could strangle the little liar.
You set up your fryer and get the oil heating up.
“I’ve decided that since your all good Fluffies. I’ll cook you all some Nummies!”
You say with a fake overly cheery tone. The barn erupts in happy squees.
“NUMMIES! YAY FWUFFY WUB NUMMIES!”
Orange says.
“Smawty nu hab cooked Nummies in many fowevews!”
He says. Well now you know he’s an ex domestic which is why he’s obsessed with your TV.
“Bestest babbeh wub nice munstah! Nummies means babbehs get bestest miwkies!”
You see the mother smack the foal. You pretend not to notice it call itself bestest.
“Now I have a very important question for you all… Who here has eaten the most Nummie babies?”
As you ask this question the room goes silent.
I’m just asking because whoever has eaten the most Nummie babbehs will get a big heaping bowl of SKETTIS!"
Suddenly a fat mare runs towards you with glee in her eyes.
“Mummah num Nummies babbehs! Mummah num aww wast wittwe ob babbehs! Dey was poopie babbehs su mummah num dem aww gone to make miwkies foh bestest babbeh!”
She motions to an incredibly obese foal on top of her head. From it’s size it should have stopped drinking milk a month ago.
“Oh perfect. May I give your bestest babbeh bestest Huggies!?!”
The forced cheery tone is giving you a migraine.
“Yes nice munstah! Babbeh nee bestest Huggies ob aww!”
She says handing you tubby. You pick him up and look him in the eye.
“Hm… So fat I could fry it without grease. Oh well”
“BESTEST BABBEH NU AM FAT! BESTEST AM BIGGEST AND STWONG-EEEEEEEEEK!”
You drop him directly into the vat of boiling oil. You figure he’s killed almost instantly. You see a small spray of brown shit in the oil. Of course.
“SCREEEEE! NUU! BESTEST BABBEH!”
You look down at the mare.
“Oh? What’s that? Wasn’t one of my rules that there are no bestest babbehs? Now. How about you have yourself another Nummie babbeh?”
You reach in with a pair of tongs and pull out the slightly crispy foal. A look of shock permanently stuck on it’s fried face.
“NUUU! Nu wan num bestest babbeh huuhuu!”
“I was hoping you’d say that!”
You pick the mare up by her tail.
“SCREEE! BAD UPSIES! GIB MEANIE MUNSTAH SOWWY POOPIES!”
She shits but it all falls back on herself.
“NU DUMMEH POOPIE PWACE! NU GIB MUMMAH SOWWY POOPIES!”
You violently ram the still sizzling hot foal up the mares putrid anus.
“If not one way it goes in the other.”
You say.
“WOWSTEST POOPIE PWACE BUWNIES! HEWP! CHEEP! HEEEEWP! CHIRP CHEEP!”
You lower the mummah into the vat then pull her back up.
“NUU! NUUUUU!”
Back in the vat. Back up.
“COUGH BUUHUUUHUUU BUWNIES!”
Down in the vat. Back up.
“Kaff kaff wheeze”
You lower her in and leave her there.
“Now that I have your attention. I’ve come to realize I’ve made a mistake. You are all very bad Fluffies.”
You feel something bump your leg. Its one of the herd. Probably a toughie given it’s size.
“TUFFIE GIB WOWSTEST HUWTIES! DAT WAS TUFFIE SPECIAW FWEN AN BESTEST BABBEH! GIB BACKSIES WITE NAO!”
Not even acknowledging the little bastard you lift your foot up and pin him to the ground.
“NUUU HUWTIES!”
“Tell me … why do you eat babies? Why was that little black foal named Nummie?.. TELL ME YOU FUCKING SHIT RATS!!!”
They all cower as you raise your voice. The Toughie under your boot speaks up.
“Huuhuuhuu ou nu undastan! Hewd nee Nummie babbehs! Nu Nummies in cowd times! Nummie babbehs make bestest cowd time Nummies! Am su gud dat hewd nee moh eben foh hawt times! Nummie babbehs hab tummie sketti! Wub tummie sketti! Tummie sketti su much Betta Dan dummeh Gwassy an weafy Nummies! Buuhuuhuu!”
Di…did this… Oh my God. First herd was theft. Second herd rape. Now fuckin casual cannibalism. It’s not even that they were forced to eat them. They do it because they like too? Now you know why the mares don’t look pregnant. They probably all just gave birth and the few chirpies and smaller foals are what’s left of their food supply. Guess that means that all the older foals are bestest babbehs. That’s why there’s only five among four mares. Well… Four among three now.
With four mares there should be tons of foals both talky and chirpy.
“Huuhuu why munstah huwt fwuffies? Was nice munstah wast dawkie time?”
The smarty asks.
“That was before I learned that you were all a bunch of FUCKIN CANNIBALS!”
You pick up the toughie fucker and throw him at the smarty.
“OOF! HUWTIES!”
The smarty yells.
“Huuhuu meanie munstah nu undastaahahaaan! Smawty an hewd was suuu hungwy? Wah was hewd pose ta do?”
He cries as the toughie tries his best to hide behind him.
“DIE! LIKE HUMANS!.. But you’re not human. Are you. You’re nothing but a bunch of immoral fucks that masquerade as cute. You preach wub an Huggies when all you bring is rape and hurties. I will right this injustice. None of you will leave here Alive.”
It seems you’ve flipped the switch. The smarties mask was gone. He puffs out his cheeks. Stomps his front hooves and berates you.
“DUMMEH MUNSTAH! DIS AM SMAWTY AN HEWD WAND NAO! OU GIB BESTEST NUMMIES AN BESTEST TOYSIES AN DA TEEBEE OW OU GET WOWSTEST HUUUWTIIIEES!”
You laugh.
“There we go. That’s what I was waiting on.
Looks like your friends done.”
You pull the now cooked mare out of the vat. She’s crispy all over with small burnt bits of fluff still hanging on. You drop her on the ground.
“Hope you’re all hungry because this is your only food for now.”
The toughie walks slowly up to his mate.
“Huuhuu Speciaw fwen huuhuu bestest babbeh. Am Daddeh nu mow.”
You grab him.
“NU MUNSTAH NU! PWEEEEEAAAASE NU HUWT FWUFFY!”
He pleads.
“What is she not pretty anymore? Why don’t you give her the special Huggies she DESERVES!”
With that you thrust the toughie onto his deceased sizzling mate. You know you hit bullseye when you hear
“SCREEEE WOWSTEST NU NU STICK BUWNIE HUWTIES!”
You laugh.
“YEAH FUCKER YEAH! ENF ENF ENF IS THAT FUCKIN RIGHT!”
You scream as you force him to fuck the still extremely hot corpse. You can already see the burn blisters forming on his stomach and crotch.
“NU! PWEASE! STAHP! STAHAAHAAHAAAAP! NU WAN NU WAAAAAAAN! AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIICK!!!”
He voids his bowels in terror.
You rip him off his dead special friend. His dick looks like a burnt matchstick. The blistering must have started the minute you started.
“Now that wasn’t so bad was it? We’ll name the foals crispy and crunchy.”
He lays there wheezing. You doubt he’ll make it through the night but you want him to suffer.
“Now for the chaser.”
You reach into your backpack and pull out a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
“Cheers retard!”
You dump it on his wounds.
“SCREEEEEE! NU MOH HUWTIES! WAN DIE! WAND DIIIIEEE!”
“Lol nah. You get to lay there… Anyways eat up fuckers. Can’t wait till tomorrow.”
You say as you walk out. The minute you open the door half the herd try to run out. Immediately they realize the horrible truth.
“NUUHUUHUU! Nu meanie fencie! Wet fwuffies GOOOOO! BUUUHUUUHUUUHUUUU!”
You pick up the two that made it out and chuck them back in.
You’re going to enjoy this. All of this.
You go home and unwind from the event. After giving the Fluffies their kibble you grab yourself a bottle of rum and sit back in front of the TV. Contemplating what tomorrow’s punishment will be.
The next morning you sit in the kitchen nursing a hangover. You overdid it a bit with the run last night.
“Uuugh … Hey frosting. Mind telling me how I ended up asleep in your safe room?”
She looks up from her kibble bowl and laughs.
“Siwwy Daddeh! Daddeh dwinkies tu muchies happy juice. Cwawled inta safewoom and feww sweep on fwoow.”
She says before returning to her breakfast.
Well at least she knows what happened. You sit there sipping your third cup of water. Despite the throbbing in your head you think about how you’re gonna top yesterday. Admittedly you did get a little too into it. You wonder if the toughie died overnight.
After breakfast you decide to lock up the house and head back out to the barn. You bring a box of thumb tacks and your fishing tackle box. You hear them talking as You put on your ghillie suit outside.
“Dummie tuffie. Woww oba. Smawty nu wan wook at dummeh cooked Speciaw pwace. Ou aweady keep hewd wakeys aww dawkie tim wif ou huuhuus.”
Damn. Little bastard is crueler than you thought.
“Nu haff can woww haff tuu many huwties! TUU MANY HUWTIES!”
Guess he’s still alive. Must be in the same spot.
“Shuddup ow hewd nummie ou Speciaw pwace wike Hewd num ou Speciaw fwen!”
Boy you’re hatred for these things keeps growing. What happened to the rational smarty? While they argue you get ready. You take out fish hooks and tie them to 5 foot sections of fishing line. You make sure to use a high pound test line to avoid incidents. This shit is made for deep sea fishing so it should hold a 5-15 pound fluffy just fine.
You walk in. They all go silent except for the heavy breathing from the half cooked one from last night.
You look at his mate. The entire back half is gone. You see the chewed remains of the former bestest babbeh laying by it. Those fuckers ate the mom until they reached the bestest and then ripped it out and ate it. You still see one of the mares gnawing on a back leg.
“Mistah munstah. Fank ou foh gud Nummies… Can hewd pwease go nao? Pwomise Neba cum backsies.”
The smarty says.
“Go? Oh no no no. The funs just getting started!”
You walk to the center of the barn.
“Now. How many of you love your bestest babbehs?”
Silence. After yesterday none of them say anything.
“Oh well I guess that’s a shame. Do you hear that bestest babbehs? Your mummahs don’t love you!”
You see foals rustling.
“Mummah nu wub bestest nu moh? Huuhuuhuu! Dummeh mummah WUB BESTEST NAO!!!”
You’ve found your victim.
“Oh but mummah will love you. How about I give you BESTEST SHOES!”
You say holding the thumbtacks.
The fat bestest immediately waddles towards you. The mother tries to grab it.
“DUMMEH MUMMAH TAKE SOWEY POOPIES! BESTEST BABBEH NEE BESTEST SHOESIES!”
It doesn’t even know what shoes are. All it knows is I said bestest shoes and now it can’t live without them.
“Bestest babbeh nee bestest shoesies mistah munstah!”
You pick her up with one hand using your thumb to stroke her chest.
“Teehee! Bestest babbeh wub bestest upsies!”
You pull out four thumbtacks.
“I think I’ll put the pretty pink shoe… Here!”
You hold her front right hoof still and jam the thumbtack in. It takes her a minute to process what just happened.
“… WOWSTEST HUWTIES! NU MISTAH MUNSTAH! NU HUWT BESTEST BABBEHS HOOFSIES! WUB HOOFSIES!”
“And the pretty blue show goes right here!”
You jam another thumb tack in. Then another. Then the fourth one.
"“WHEEZE NU MOH NU MOH! BUUHUUHUUUUU! MUMMAH! MUMMAH! SAB BESTEST BABBEH! BESTEST BABBEH HAB WOWSTEST HUWTIES EBAAAAA!”
You feel a tap on your leg. How familiar. You look down and see the mother trying to give you sorry hoofsies.
“NU DUMMEH MUNSTAH! GIB BESTEST BABBEH BACKSIES! BESTEST BABBEH NEE MUMMAH! NEE HUGGIES AN WUB!”
Steve looked down at the mother and smiled.
“Oh but I’m just playing with the little tyke.”
You take out a fish hook on a string and hook it directly through the foals nose.
“NUUHUUHUUHUU! SMEWW PWACE WOWSTEST HUWTIES!”
You start swinging it around like a yoyo.
“Here. I’ll give her back.”
“BABBEH! NEE BABBEH! NU WIKE SPINNIES!”
You use the babbeh as a flail and smack the mother in the face.
“WHATS WRONG? DONT LIKE IT? I THOUGHT YOU LOVED YOUR PRECIOUS LITTLE LARD ASS?”
You hit her again.
“BUUHUUHUU BABBEH! NU HUWT MUMMAH BABBEH!”
You hit her again. And again. And again. Every whack makes a sick crunching noise. You can’t tell if it’s the baby or the mother. You figure the baby’s dead. She stopped screaming.
“MUMMAH WUB BABBEH! BABBEH WUB MUMMAH! ISN’T THAT RIGHT FUCKER!”
Finally you feel something give and the foal rockets across the room. Splattering on one of the rafters. You look at the hook. The foals torn off face was on the hook along with it’s snout.
“Oh look? Your babbehs lost weight!”
You say laying the face on the unconscious mother. She’s bleeding out of her snout. She’s probably not waking up.
“… Who’s next? Oh I know! How about you orange! The fucker who is the reason I found you all in the first place!”
The remaining herd members look at orange.
“I followed you when you left the house. You weren’t very careful. You left a trail of bad poopies all the way to your nestie!”
“DUMMEH GWAPEFWUIT! DUMMEEEEEH!”
The smarty screams before attacking orange.
“SCREEEE! GWAPEFWUIT SOWWY! HAD BAD NUMMIES! NEEDED TA POOPY! HUUHUUHUU!”
The smarty continues to pound orange. You reach into your backpack and pull out something. A can of expanding foam. You shake it good and stick the straw in.
You walk over to the brawling duo and pick up orange who now has a black eye.
“Hey fucker?”
You say.
“Huuhuuhuu nu am fuckew! Am gwapefwuit! Buuhuu!”
“Yeah cool that’s nice. How about I help you with that bad poopies problem?”
You flip him around and shove the straw up his ass. Ironically he doesn’t shit.
“SCREEE! NU TOUCH POOPY PWACE! AM ONWY FOH POOPIES! NU AM MAWE!”
Without warning you unleash the foam into his bowels. Being careful with it though. You don’t want him to bust. But he’s not shitting any time soon.
“POOPY PWACE HUWTIES! BIGGEST OWIES!”
He screams.
“Now how about sum Nummies!?!”
You pull out a special concoction you mixed specifically for this. A delightful mixture of prune juice, laxative tablets, cabbage, raisins, pop rocks, and a special ingredient you like to call Extra hot Hot sauce. all blended into a chunky liquid.
You stick the bottle practically down his throat. You plug his nose holes to make sure he swallows it.
“Huuhuuhuuburp… Nu taste pwetty… Wai… T-TALKY PWACE BUWNIES!”
He runs around the barn.
“Yeah just wait till my little potion kicks in fucker. I hope you explode.”
You look around at the other terrified Fluffies. Two mares, the smarty, and three talky foals remain. You decide to not mess with the chirpies. You’ll hand them over to the shelter when you’re done.
You grab some of the fish hooks and look at the remaining foals. Two hiding under their mother. One is behind smarty. You’ll save him for later.
“Ya know I never considered myself violent. But then you fuckers just have to fuckin TEST ME!”
You rush at the mares. Before they know what’s happening you’ve knocked them over and grab the foals.
“NU MUNSTAH NU! NU HUWT BABBEH!”
“PWEEHEEHEEHEEEEZ! AM ONWY WIDDWE BABBEHEEHEE!”
You stick one of the hooks directly through the ones tiny ballsack.
“SPECIAW WUMPS! MUMMA HEWP! BABBEHS SPECIAW WUMPS NU FOH HUWTIES!”
He squeals. The other ones a filly so no lumps. You shove the hook into her vagina and pull back ensuring that it digs straight into the inside. She doesn’t even scream. Seems the pain makes her pass out. Shame.
You tie the ends of the strings together and hang them from a tool rack. Just high enough off the ground the mothers can’t reach.
They run up immediately.
“BABBEH! BABBEH! HUUHUUU MUMMAH NEE SAB BABBEH!”
“TEWW OU DUMMEH BABBEH STAHP MOOBING! HE HUWT BESTEST BABBEH!”
The other mare says. The two start fighting underneath the crying foals. You look at the smarty who is sticking his foal under some straw.
You look over at the crispy one who’s surprisingly still alive. You walk over.
“Pwease munstahhaff wheeze kiww fwuffy! Pwease kiww fwuffy?”
“… Nah. You can stay there.”
You say before grabbing him and flipping him over. The minute his belly hits the ground you can practically hear the blisters pop.
“… Breath in SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Why gib fwuffy huwties? Ou gib Speciaw fwen fowevew sweepies! Ou gib bestest babbeh fowevew sweepies! Ou make fwuffy gib Speciaw fwen wowstest Enfies an Speciaw fwen gib wowstest buwnies! Why munstah huwt fwuffy? Why?”
You look him in the eye.
“Because I fucking can shit head.”
You take your pocket knife out and scrape it against his scar tissue.
“Wan die …wan die… Wan die…wan die.”
Whelp he’s broke. Looks like the mares are doing a good job offing each other for you. Now for mister smarty.
You walk over to him.
“Pwease nu huwt smawty! Smawty nu desewb dis!”
You look at the hay.
“Oh really? In that case you won’t be needing your foal either.”
