Stream 14
FOURTH OF JULY SPECIAL LATE
Stompie skipped into view, her apron white and having red splatters that looked like fireworks.
“Happy summer, my Stompers!” She let off a popper, which caused crying and sounds of fear from the fluffies offscreen. “It’s the Fourth of July! While I know not everyone here celebrates it, I like picnics, fireworks, and any excuse to mix pyrotechnics and fluffies!” She grinned. “I even got special colors! Reds, whites, and blues!” She said. “Most of them are fluffies that lost thier appeal after being gifts for the fourth. Responsible owners, right? Donating their fluffies instead of letting them rot in a shelter or turning them to the streets.” Stompie gave a thumbs up. “But first…we need to check on our Easter fluffies!” Stompie went over to the table, where the clear eggs were almost bursting, the dead fluffies inside bloated, the eggs about half brown full of liquid shit. “Oh, nasty.” She said, carefully throwing them out. “The time lapse is rather fun. Let’s watch!”
On screen it showed the two fluffies.
The small chirpy couldn’t see, and mostly suckled milk, shitting on the mat on the bottom. As the pad soaked up more and more shit, the little foal looked more uncomfortable. The food source was diminishing and the space was decreasing. It squirmed occasionally, but barely had room to move its little nubs. It ineffectively tapped at the the plastic walls of its prison, but the egg was meant to be opened from the outside. Even if the foal knew so, it was too weak to do anything more than a tap. It’s peeps grew more desperate as the air thinned and the milk ran out. The pad beneath it was entirely brown and swelled to maximum capacity. Normally a foal found like this would just be discarded, due to emotional distress. No kid wanted to spend time stopping their toy from crying when there were dozens more happy toys! The foal weakly patted at the dried milk sack, weaker and weaker with each pat. It died soon after.
The second foal was more aware. The foal’s eyes were open, and with a clear container it could see the outside world. Stompie was seen occasionally walking through the shot, in her mask and apron, of course. It was mostly moving a box or trap to a different location in the torture basement. The foal tried each time to get Stompie’s attention, trying to speak. Sound was not available in the time lapse, but text at the bottom reads ‘I actually couldn’t hear him all that well. It was soft muffles. I wouldn’t have paid attention even if I could hear him clearly.’
The foal tapped incessantly at the clear container, as if that would free him. He drank at the milk, wiggling impatiently as he could see but was not freed. Where was his mummah? Why wasn’t the last he saw opening the egg? It tried to call for the mummah, growing quickly at this age. The foal was pressed tight against the sides of the egg, dying from the lack of room before the waste pad was at capacity.
The time lapse ended.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” She asked. “Now…firework festivities!” Stompie clapped her hands. “Now…what we are NOT going to do is set off firecrackers on or in the fluffies. You’ve probably all seen or done that before. No, we’re going to start off with sparklers.” She said. Stompie took out a pack of sparklers, duct tape, and a pretty pink lighter that looked bedazzled to hell with all the pink sparkles on it.
“And now we’ve got…the fluffies.” Stompie took a pair of adults out, yanking them out by the scruffs of their necks.
“SCREEEEE!” One yelled, a white unicorn mare with a navy mane. “NU OWIES!”
“NUUUUUU!” A smaller stallion pegasus with a white mane whined, trying to run. Its legs hit the cold metal and it tried to dash to the end of the table, then off it. “FWUFFY FWY!” Stompie put an end to that, grabbing the fluffy’s tail. The flight was brought to the end, the pegasus flailing and crying. Stompie plopped the fluffy down, and duct taped his tail to the table as the fluffy fruitlessly scrambled. “None of that.” She said. “Now…we’re gonna see what happens when you show fluffies sparklers!” Stompie lit up one of them, holding the metal handle as the yellow sparks danced from the lit tip.
Both fluffies seemed transfixed by the pretty lights.
“Pwetty nite wite.” The mare’s eyes went wide and she reached a hoof out to the sparks…only to recoil back as they burned her. “SCREEEE!” Wai wite gib owies?” The mare backed up, now knowing the pain of the sparkler.
Stompie picked up a strip of duct tape she’d had pre cut and laid on the edge of the table. She slapped the handle of the handle on the stallion, taping it down, ripping the tape off its tail.
“SCREEEEE! BUWNIE HUWTIES!” The stallion started running in a circle, the sparks raining down on his head.
“You know what helps hurties? Huggies!” Stompie told the stallion.
The stallion brightened, and looked towards the mare. “Huggies!” He waddled towards the mare.
The mare saw the sparkler moving closer, and panicked. “Nuuu! Buwnie munsta! Nu huggies! Nu huggies!” She ran away from the stallion, who chased her in an attempt to get the magic pain ending hugs.
“Huuhuuu…wai wun? Wan huggies! Wan huwties gone!” The stallion was chasing the mare, the two running around the table as Stompie lit another sparkler, letting the sparks fall down to the table, another burning obstacle they had to brave to get or run from hugs.
“Wow. A fluffy running from hugs? Sounds like a bad fluffy to me.” Stompie said with a wink to the camera.
That stopped the mare. Her? A bad fluffy? But…the huggies would hurt! That pause cost her, as the stallion slammed into her, practically bowling them over. In the attempt to hug the mare, the sparkler was pressed to the mare’s face.
“SCREEEEEEE! OWIES!” The mare screamed, trying to disengage…and failing. The stallion hugged tight…so tight that the sparklier taped to his back jammed inside the mare’s eye.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” The mare began screaming anew, loud enough that the stallion reared back, then saw the ruin of the mare’s face.
“M-munsta!” The stallion ran away from the now eyeless mare.
Stompie grinned, getting an idea. She lit up another sparkler, jabbing the handle into the mare’s ruined socket. “She’s like a unicorn now!” She proclaimed with a little grin.
“Wan huggies!” The mare cried, now the one wanting hugs. She turned to Stompie, who’d taken a big step back from the table…far out of any type of hugging range. So the mare turned to the stallion. The chase began anew with the mare chasing the stallion. Finally his sparkler ran out, but the heat remained, burning the stallion’s skin. He huued pathetically, seeming to contemplate jumping off the table.
Stompie had gotten a paddle…which looked more like a small cutting board she’d hammered nails through. “If you try to fly off the table, Mr. Smacks will give hurties!” She said in a sing song voice, letting the board clack dangerously on the edge of the table.
The stallion chanced it anyways, running over to the edge, leaping……and got absolutely obliterated by the swing of Stompie. The pegasus nearly shot across the room, leaving a trail of gore.
The mare was dripping with blood, open mouthed in shock, her one remaining eye wide as could be. A few choked sounds escaped her.
“That’s why you don’t test me.” Stompie sang. The sparkler ran out on the mare, and Stompie sighed. She grabbed the handle, what was left of it, and yanked it out of the mare only to jab the burnt side in.
Blood and viscera sizzled before the mare started screaming, running in a circle to try to dislodge the sparkler. “SCREEEEEEE! NU MOWE! NU MOWE HUWTIES!” She screamed.
“I think she’s all done.” Stompie said, smirking to see the mare pathetically shaking. She brought up Mr. Smacks high over her head, then hard down on the mare. She brought it down two more times just for good measure. She then tossed the mare offscreen. “That’s enough fun indoors. Now…we’re taking this outdoors!”
The camera cut to an outside field, looking very isolated. There were boxes of fireworks…and two boxes. One with fluffies, and one with foals. Stompie’s face was pixelated, and she wore some old looking jean sorts and a tank top. “Alright, I needed to wear less clothes, cuz it’s like 90 f-cking degrees where.” She said. She brought over a firework that looked very much like a rocket complete with a fuse. “I figured we’d go with a classic here. Have any of you little psychos ever taped a toy to a rocket? Well, we’re gonna do that with a little foal. A pegasus so maybe they won’t whine so much about it.” Stompie found a blue pegasus foal with a white mane. “Hey there, little foal. Wanna fly?”
The foal, which had been peeping with distress to be picked up by the scruff of his neck, suddenly brightened to be told about flying. “F-fwy?” He asked, looking up at Stompie with hopeful eyes.
Stompie took some duct tape, a truly magical material, and taped the foal to the firework. “Hm. I think we should use one more…just to make sure it’s balanced!” Stompie found another pegasus foal, this one all white, crying about wanting ‘mowe miwkies!’ Stompie rolled her eyes, and talked that one to the side. “Cool it. You’re going flying.” She was looking forward to this.
It took only a few seconds to light the fuse, and Stompie backed up a healthy distance from the firework. The fuse burnt down, the end of the rocket shooting sparks…then it took off. Stompie had purposely not emptied these foals, so the rocket trailed twin tails of milky sh-t as it shot up into the sky. The firework shot up, then exploded into green sparks…as well as twin red explosions of gore which rained down onto the field. Stompie had opened up a pink translucent umbrella, keeping the shit and gore off her. “Fun, isn’t it?”
She decided on another firework, this time piercing a small red foal by the belly on the top of the firework. The foal chirped in alarm as he was pierced, then taped down. Stompie smirked and lit the fuse, the foal’s little nubs flailing around pathetically. “Screee! O-owies!” It peeped its first words, its small eyes finally shooting open.
“Awww! Its first moments!” Stompie said, just as the rocket shot off, exploding into red sparks, matching the red gore. The foal’s head somehow managed to escape destruction, the whole head bouncing off the umbrella, down to the ground. Stompie couldn’t resist giving it a good stomp under her black shoes. No heels, as the field would be hell to walk across in heels.
“Now…lets do something a bit more fun. Target practice and Roman candles!” Stompie took one such firework, then looked about at the fluffies. “Hm. Pegasus are fast, but I’ve used so many…” she then yanked an all blue fluffy out. “I’ll use a unicorn.” She decided, the specimen quite obviously a male.
“SCREEEE! NU! NU WAN PWAY GAME! NU FUN!” He’d seen what happened to the foals, and knew playing would only lead to a bloody death.
“Hm…Nah. We’re gonna play.” Stompie set him on the ground. “You have a head start. As long as it takes me to light this and the fuse to burn down.” She watched him take off at a breakneck speed…for a fluffy. Which was a waddle. Stompie could outwalk him if she wanted.
She turned to the camera. “Remember, Stompers. Do this safely. You don’t want to get burned.” She put on her apron and a long leather glove to protect herself from any sparks. With that and the time it took to light the fuse…the fluffy had made it maybe a leap away from Stompie and was out of breath already. She pointed the firework at the fluffy, but winked. “I’ll give him a few warning shots first. It’s no fun if he dies right away.”
The firework went off in a golden burst, landing just to the left of the fluffy. He screamed, farting in fear as he’d been emptied. He took off again, closing his eyes as he ran. That proved to be a mistake, as a small dip in the ground proved deadly as a fox hole to a human. He broke his stumpy leg, smashing face first into the ground, his nose bleeding as well. “SCREEEE! OWIES! HUUUHUUU! SABE FWUFFY!”
Stompie sighed, shaking her head. “If only you kept your damn eyes open.” She said, and began scoring direct and glancing hits on the fluffy. It didn’t take long for the fluffy to ignite, engulfed in flames. Stompie giggled, and aimed the fireworks around the field, close to the foal and fluffy boxes to terrorize them more. Both boxes were alive in fear, roiling like a wave of multicolored, patriotic fluff.
When the candle was out, Stompie approached the fluffy who’d burned who was…shockingly still alive. He looked weakly up at Stompie.
“W…wan die…” it croaked.
“Meh, you’re no use to me anyways like this.” Stompie did kill him, stomping on him. It was also to put out the fire he still had. She stomped out the flames, along with crushing the stallion to a pulp.
“Alright, lets do that again, and…well, we’ll try not to let them break their leg like that.” Stompie chose an Earthie this time. A mare with red fluff and a blue mane. “Alright, she should be a good runner. She bounced the mare a bit by the scruff, the fluffy practically vibrating with fear.
“B-ba-bad ups-sies!” The mare stuttered, more from fear than the bouncing. “Nu wan pway wif munsta wady!”
“Too bad. We’re playing.” She said. “Unless you want to stay there and let me hit you with the candle.” Stompie set the fluffy down, giving her a chance to run with unbroken legs.
The mare picked up quickly, running away as fast as she could. Unfortunately this was not very fast at all. Stompie smiled. “Anyone have any ideas on how to make a fluffy faster? Like a skateboard or a rocket booster?” She asked. “They don’t need to really survive it…just make em faster for a little bit.” Stompie was still having fun, lighting the candle.
She let the fluffy have a bit of a head start before she started firing. Her first hit was lucky, a direct hit on the fluffy’s rear. It was by pure luck she didn’t catch fire.
“Owies!” The fluffy yelped and tried to speed up, waddling faster to escape the flames. It was hard to escape the flames. “Nu bunnies! Nu bunnies!” She cried.
Stompie laughed, able to stay in place and shoot at the fluffy. Some of her shots missed, but most hit the fluffy, eventually catching her on fire. Stompie let her burn a bit before stomping her out.
“Alright, time for a grand finale.” She took out a box of fireworks, and placed one in the foal box, the other in the fluffy box. “We’ll get rid of em all in one go!” Stompie lit both fuses and backed away a healthy distance.
The foals and fluffies didn’t know what this box was. They were too short to see the burning fuse atop of it. One thought it was a fancy litter box, and tried to climb up to it. With the help of two fellow foals, the red fluffy climbed up on top, crushing the bottom fluffy. He found only a bunch of holes, the top of the fireworks…just as they went off.
There was an explosion of light and gore, fluffy limbs and flaming fur all along the box and a short radius around it. Stompie was laughing and clapping by the end. “Oh, that was a wonderful show!” She exclaimed. She approached the camera. “That’s it for our holiday show, stompers. Until next time!”
With that, Stompie signed off.