Stream 18
Easter Stream
Stompie skipped in frame, her regular outfit, but a pep in her step. “Hello my beloved Stomper! How have you all been? It’s been a while.” She clapped her hands. “I’m thrilled to have made it for Easter. I’ve got an exciting stream for you all. And it starts outside!” The stream cut to outside, where the ground looked muddy and green. There were traps set along the yard. Mouse traps, mini bear traps, wire snares, trip wires. Amongst it all were small plastic easter eggs, peeps and chirps from within. The foals within were crying, wailing for their mummah or daddeh to save them.
Next to Stompie were a few carriers, fluffies within crying to be let out to go save their foals. “I’ve decided to arrange a foal egg hunt! The parent has one chance to go get an egg. They should hope it’s their foal, or they get a penalty. And if they don’t get any egg…I make sure their foal dies. I kept track.” Stompie waved a clipboard with a sheet on it. It was tracking which foal belonged to which fluffy, which egg she put it in, and where she put that egg. “I made sure we’ll see some blood. These eggs were not placed at random. Some don’t even have foals in them.” She giggled. “But we’ll see that very soon, I’m sure.”
Stompie opened the first carrier and a fat purple pegasus mare toppled out. She had a white mane, but the fluffy looked obese, her wings just barely visible between rolls of fat and fluff.
“Bestest Babbeh? Whewe bestest babbeh? Babbeh! Cum to mummah!” The fluffy looked around as if her foal would appear before her. Perhaps if there weren’t a cacophony of other foals, the mother may be able to track down her progeny.
“You have to go find your foal.” Stompie said with false sweetness. With a glance at her sheet to verify the sex. “He should be in one of those eggs. But you only get one chance to find him.” She said. “And all these other fluffies want to find their babbehs.” She gave the other a not so nice nudge with her foot. Stompie grinned at the camera. “This one, as you can see, chose a bestest. Then neglected all her other foals. Her owners graciously donated her and her little brat to me. I guess they kept they rest. I really only needed one for this event.”
The fluffy eeped and began to look. She zeroed in on a purple egg that looked easy.
Stompie grinned, and winked at the camera. There was a dip in the ground in front of the egg, enough that a human may not even stumble or break stride. But for a fluffy? It could break their leg, or at least render them unable to get out.
The fluffy set her expression, puffing her cheeks, and began to waddle towards the silent egg. She looked confused when she saw the dip, trying to stretch one hoof down, and eeping when she couldn’t touch the bottom. With a tremendous effort she pulled her hoof back and made it to the egg. “Dis eggie.” She said, tapping it. Unable to open it with her hoofsies.
Stompie walked over. “Are you sure?” She asked. “Why this egg?”
“Is puwple wike mummah. Babbeh is puwple tu!” The fluffy insisted.
Stompie shrugged. She picked up the egg in one hand and the fluffy by the scruff in the other.
“Bad upsies!” The fluffy cried. The fluffy flailed her hooves, her own fat making it hard for her to breathe wile scruffed. She was set down heavily on the ground after what was just a few steps from Stompie. But it seemed like such a long distance for the fluffy! She was on her feet, tapping her hooves impatiently as she waited for Stompie to open the egg.
Stompie could barely contain her glee as she opened the egg to reveal…pebbles. “Oh, too bad. No babbeh.” She said.
The fluffy’s face dropped. “Buh…nu! Nu faiw! Nu faiw!” The fluffy began to smack her hooves on the ground, only to screech when a pebble hit her. “SCREEEEE! Wai huwt fwuffy!?”
“It’s your penalty!” Stompie hurled the pebbles at the fluffy, hoping to goad her back into the field.
“Huuhuuuhuuu! Owies!” The fluffy turned and tried to run to the field. As fluffies did, she closed her eyes as she fled…heading right back to the pit. She never saw it coming. A loud ‘crack’ sounded from her right front hoof as she fell in. “Huuhuuu…nee upsies! Hav owies!” The fluffy was sobbing, her face fluff soaked with tears.
“Oh, such a shame. Oh well.” Stompie continued to throw pebbles at the fluffy until she ran out. “I guess she’ll get to stay there. Maybe she’ll be a distraction for some of the other parents.”
Stompie went back to the carriers, tipping it so the next fluffy came out. This one was also a mare, but regular sized and green. She had a darker green mane, but her eyes darted around nervously.
“W-whewe babbeh?” She asked, her tail tucked between her legs, ears down. Clearly this fluffy was a nervous wreck. The fluffy had bald spots around their hooves, a sign of sucking and nervous biting.
“You’ll have to find her. I’m sure she’s out there somewhere.” Stompie said. She looked at the camera. “This mare was given because she was a nervous wreck and pissed everywhere. Beds, carpets, floors. Her owners couldn’t take it anymore. She was given to me.”
The fluffy looked out over the field, pissing herself in fear.
“Oh come on! I emptied you twice!” Stompie griped, rolling her eyes. “Go find your foal. Better find her before it’s too late.” The foals probably wouldn’t suffocate. The eggs were generic plastic ones that had a couple tiny holes at the top. She’d placed the eggs so the holes were up top. Even in the mud, they should be left alive until found. Maybe.
The fluffy eeped and waddled towards the field, then stopped. She looked over the field in despair, seeing all the traps. “B…babbeh…” the fluffy whimpered. She looked back toward Stompie, who’d grabbed a sorry stick, tapping it against her hand. The fluffy sniffed pathetically and waddled once again into the field. She was soon whining about the ‘not pretty’ mud. She managed to evade the first mouse trap, but kept her eyes on it too long. She walked right into the mini bear trap. It wasn’t anything big. It looked homemade with thin wires and pushpins for teeth, but it was more than painful enough for a fluffy. The jaws closed over the fluffy’s front left leg. “SCREEEEEEE!” The fluffy pulled away, the trap light enough to come with her. “SCREEE! Meanie owie wet gu!” She screamed, stumbling back. In that stumble she ended up in a snare trap, the post beside it hauling her up by a back leg. “SCREEEEEE!” The fluffy screamed, unable to escape. The wire was tight, even with the fluffy’s weight dragging her towards the ground.
“Oh, too bad!” Stompie said, slowly smirking. “Looks like you couldn’t rescue anyone.” She crossed over, and gave the fluffy a few smacks with the sorry stick.
“SCREEEEE! Owies! Nu mowe owies!” The fluffy wiggled, whimpering.
“We’ll play after and have plenty of owies.” Stompie said. “They watch for something better than sorry sticking a fluffy.” Stompie gave her one last harsh whack before heading back to her carrying cases. She opened the third carrier and shook out a bright red unicorn stallion. “This guy…he’s from a small time breeder. Broke into the mare’s pen and…well, you know what happened. He caused three miscarriages, and tried to rally the ‘herd’ against the owner. All that caused was a field full of shit and a lot of dead fluffies.” Stompie shook her head. “Anyways, I’m sure he’s watching now to make sure this guy gets his just desserts. We took his favorite foal, the one that looks just like him. He doted on that little foal.” Stompie snickered, pretty sure he wouldn’t find the foal. Even if he did…nobody survived this show.
“Whewe am babbeh?” The stallion asked, puffing his cheeks. He stomped a hoof.
Stompie crouched down, taking out a pocket knife. The handle was pink and sparkly. “You’d better deflate those cheeks before I deflate them for you.” She said in a soft but dangerous tone.
The fluffy deflated his cheeks, also letting out a scaredy fart.
“Good. Now go find an egg and hope your babbeh is inside.” she gave him a little jab in the flank with the knife, sending him off with an eep. She stood up, bright smiles again. “Can’t stand the demanding little rats.” She said airily. “Sometimes all they need is a good threat.”
The stallion got onto the field, his hooves squelching in the mud. He walked forward, but then sniffed the air. “P-pwetty mare?” He looked around, and zeroed in on the purple mare, whose front half was still stuck in the hole. From the unicorn’s perspective, it looked like the mare was presenting to him. He waddled as fast as his fat fluffy hooves would take him. He mounted the mare and began to enf away.
Unfortunately for the mare, this enfing caused her to put pressure on her broken leg. “SCREEEE! Nu speshul huggies! Hav owies!”
Further unfortunately, the stallion didn’t care. “Shaddup! Fwameo giv babbehs!” He yelled at the mare.
He finally finished with a ‘gud feews!’ And flopped off. Although he wanted to lay there, he heard the chirps of babbehs. Babbehs? That’s right! He needed to find his babbeh! The fluffy struggled, but he’d back flopped into the mud. He couldn’t get out! “Hewp! Fwuffy nee outies!” He called.
Stompie was laughing her ass off back on the grass. “The dumbass got himself stuck!” She nearly cackled. “Ah well. We’ll move onto the next, see if he can free himself. If not…we get to play~.”
Next she went to the fourth carrier. This was another stallion, but he was purple. A medium purple, pretty enough to be a mare with a fluffy pastel blue mane and tail. She smirked as she half yanked him out. “Aw, is this a mare or a stallion?” She taunted.
“Nu am mawe! Am stawwion!” He protested.
“Prove it. I don’t see any evidence of being a mare.” Stompie moved his fur aside, a very tiny member barely poking through the fluff. Stompie pretended not to see it. “See? Nothing’s there. You must be a mare!”
“SCREEEE! Nu am mawe! Nu wook at nu-nu stick!” The stallion protested, torn between proving he was a stallion and the natural fluffy urge to keep anyone away from their private places. He pathetically tried to cross his back hooves as if it would block Stompie.
“Oh well. We’re not here to tear down your masculinity. We’re here for you to find your foal.” Stompie grinned over the field. “And it looks like a lot of carnage. Let’s see if you get to even one foal.” She set him down, giving him a light kick to the rear with her boot. “See, this guy has image issues. He kept getting into fights at his day care and he can’t be left at home. Wonder how he even got babbehs, huh? His owner decided he’d rather have a puppy than a fluffy. Wise choice.”
“Owies!” The stallion whined, but began to waddle through the field. He seemed to have some intelligence, able to navigate around the bear traps and holes, though he seemed confused by the mousetraps. “Nummies?” He asked, and sniffed at the food. He must have had luck or fate on his side, as he stepped on the side of the trap, enough for it to go off, just missing his snout, but getting his hoof. “SCREEEEEEEEE!” He screamed, backing up, causing a trap to go off on his tail. “Owies! Meanies wet gu!” He cried, and sobbed, running forward with his eyes closed. He ran face first into a tree, managing to not kill himself somehow. The trap on his hoof had fallen off, but the one on his tail persisted. The stallion sobbed, looking like he’d feel sorry for himself, but heard a nearby peeping. “B-babbeh?” He asked. He made his way to the pastel green egg, tapping it. “Babbeh in eggy?” He asked.
Stompie glanced at the paper, smirking. “You found an egg!” She said. A few paces and she’d grabbed the fluffy on one hand, the egg in the other. She didn’t bother with the mousetrap on his tail. He’d have to keep it on as an accessory. “Now…let’s see if this is your foal.” She plopped him down, and opened the egg in front of him. A foal tumbled out, bright shamrock green. Her tail nub was puke yellow, making him likely a bargain bin foal or just given away. No way would she be good to sell. If the yellow was less hideous, maybe. “Uh oh. I don’t think this is your-“ before she could finish that sentence, the purple stallion stomped on the babbeh, leaving a red smear behind.
“Nu stawwion’s babbeh. Stoopie babbeh.” He said. He looked at Stompie. “Wan babbeh.”
Stompie began to laugh. “Oh, we have a foal killer here.” She then had an idea. She picked up the foal killer and yanked the broken legged mare out of the hole. “Hey, mare.” She said, careful not to use names. “This fluffy just killed your foal.” She let the mare see the bloody remains of her spawn, then the blood on the stallion’s hooves.
“Babbeh! Nu!” The mare screamed. “Yu huwt babbeh!” She tried to rear up on her back hooves. Either she was a protective mother, or she thought a fluffy was a good enough match for her. Unfortunately for her tiny mind, she forgot about her broken foreleg. She missed the stallion completely, landing hard on her front legs.
“SCREEEEEEE! Weggie owies!” She screamed, her leg not taking the weight. She collapsed on her front legs. “Meanie mawe am munsta!” She screamed at him.
The stallion puffed his cheeks out angrily. “Nu am mawe! Nu am mawe!” He screamed over and over again, using his own hooves to stomp on the mare until she was dead. “Nu am mawe!” He kept screaming, until suddenly… “SCREEE!” A sorry stick was shoved up his rear.
“You sure about that? You seem to a perfect mare.” Stompie laughed. She decided to use him like a fluffy bat and went to beat the stallion still stuck in the mud. The other mare was still dangling, sobbing. “You’re not entertaining enough.” She told the stallion, who’d given up on escaping, just calling for help. She began to beat him down with another fluffy. She laughed at the screams they both produced, the fluffy on the rod managing to survive longer than the one on the ground, though he was not in good shape. Bleeding and bloodied he fell into the ‘wan die’ loop.
Stompie smirked. “It took a lot longer, but I think it was worth it. You get to kill two fluffs at once.” Stompie stomped on the fluffy, sliding the sorry stick free from him. “Gonna have to bleach the hell out of this thing.” She said. She gave the dead fluffy a few more stomps. “Alright, we’ve got one more fluffy trying to find her little shitrat spawn.” She said, heading towards the crate. There was whimpering from within. The fluffy had clearly heard all the screams, even if she couldn’t see what happened. Stompie opened the crate, and when no fluffy came out, she upended the thing. A blob of pastel pink dropped out. “Owies!” She said, and sat up, her tongue sticking out in a blep. She was pretty with a pastel blue mane and tail. Though the reason she was given up was soon made clear. “Nyu mummah? Wuv mummah!” The fluffy tried to toddle over to hug Stompie, apparently not realizing her boots were covered in fluffy blood.
Stompie kicked the thing away in disgust.
“Owies!” The fluffy rubbed her head, then looked around. She spied Stompie. “Nyu mummah? Wuv nyu-“ she got another kick.
“See, this one is…exceedingly dumb.” Stompie said. “Find your foal.” She gave the fluffy a little toss towards the field.
“Babbeh? Fwuffy wuv babbehs! Wan babbehs!” She babbled, wandering onto the field. She didn’t seem to be able to shut up. She somehow managed to get through the field, perhaps her obliviousness protecting her. She managed to tap a pink egg, hugging it. “Wuv eggy.” She claimed.
Stompie smirked, going over to the two. “Somehow the shit rat found a safe path.” She said. Then looked at the ground and huffed. “That’s why. The poppers here didn’t go off. Must be the mud. Boo.” She said. She picked up the dumb fluffy by the tail and the egg.
“Eeek! Bad upsies!” She cried. “Mummah! Nee downsies!”
Stompie rolled her eyes, looking like she’d rather slam the fluffy into the ground. She dropped her at the safe zone, right on her face. She then opened the egg…revealing a soft blue foal, its tail nub white.
“Babbeh!” The foal cried happily, hugging her foal, who peeped and cooed to have its mummah back.
Stompie smirked. “Aw, brings a tear to your eye, don’t it? Well, we don’t want them to ever get separated again.” She took out some twine, tying it firmly around the fluffy’s neck…then a short distance around the foal’s. Enough that it wouldn’t touch the ground. “There. Now you’ll never be apart.” She grinned.
The mare smiled brightly and set her foal down to try to give more hugs, only to gasp as the foal chirped and coughed. She quickly scooped her babbeh back up. “Babbeh? Wat wong?” She asked worriedly, soothing the panicked chirps.
“If you put your babbeh down, bad things happen. You don’t want to lose your babbeh, right?” Stompie winked at the camera. The twine wasn’t even long enough for the foal to reach the mother’s teats, not that the foal would want to, mud soaked as they were.
“Now…let’s play with the rest of the foals. We’ve got three who are unclaimed.” Stompie headed on the field, careful not to step on her own traps. Her boots would protect her, but she didn’t want to damage the delicate wire traps. They were a bitch to set up. She grabbed the three eggs that had foals. “The other two eggs out there are duds. One had a spider in it and the other had chewed up gum.” She grabbed those two eggs. The one that had the spider she opened, and watched the creature scuttle off. “Poor thing. He didn’t want to be a star.” She said. “Oh well. She opened the second one, leaving it to the side, pink chewed up gum. “We’ll put that to use later.”
She opened the third egg, which had a purple pegasus in it. It was like a mini version of the first mare, fat as well. “Look at you. Spoiled fat little shit.” She said, shaking her head.
The babbeh eeped and looked around, blinking at the light. “Bestest babbeh nee miwkies.” The fat little creature demanded, patting its pudgy tummy.
“Let’s make him a little thinner.” Stompie took out a zip tie, fastening it around the pudgy foal. Slowly she tightened it notch by notch.
The foal didn’t seem to notice it at first, just complaining about how hungry he was. Then he showed discomfort. “Nice wady, huggy am tu tite!” He said, patting at her hand.
Stompie paid him no mind, tightening the band more and more.
“Kaf! Kaf! Owies!” The foal squealed. It began to bat at Stompie’s hand incessantly. “Owies! Nice wady!”
“I’m not nice.” Stompie said, and gave a little tug, a few notches at once.
The foal was gasping for air now, the zip tie digging into delicate flesh. He was unable to relieve this pain, and only fell to the side, calling out. “Mummah! Mummah! Sabe bestest babbeh! Munsta!”
Stompie only grabbed the end of the zip tie, halting any progress. “Your mummah already met a monster. She’s dead now.” She turned the foal to look over at his smashed mummah.
“Mummah!” The foal screamed, trying to run for her, the zip tie stopping him cold.
“Pathetic little thing.” Stompie said, and tightened it those last few notches, the zip tie now digging into the skin, almost cutting the foal in half. Only his incredible girth saved him from being completely halved.
“Fantastic! Now we’ve got…two more foals and one more fluffy.” Stompie said. She reached for the pastel yellow egg, giving it a light shake so the foal inside began to peep in fear. “Aren’t they so cute when they’re peeping in fear?” She asked with a laugh. She decided to open the egg right next to the gum. “You guys can’t smell it, but this gum is meant to smell really sweet and be extra sticky.” She said. The foal inside was a bright red much like the enf crazy stallion. However he had a yellow tail nub and was an earthy. He peeped and looked around. “Daddeh?” He asked, and sniffed the air. “Nummies?” Even though he didn’t have his teeth yet, he liked sweet things. He waddled towards the gum and prodded it with a marshmallow like hoof. It stuck. “Wha? Nummies? Pwease wet babbeh gu?” He tugged again. When the inanimate object did not respond, the foal tried to tug harder. “Wet gu, dummeh!” Still no response. Finally he tried to throw himself back…and dislocated his leg. “SCREEEE! WEGGIE OWIES!” He screamed, and looked around for someone to hug him. “Babbeh nee huggies!” He looked at Stompie. “H-huggies!” He asked.
“I think you need to give the nummies hugs. Apologize for being mean to it.” Stompie suggested with glee.
The foal was just dumb enough to agree this was a good idea. He half fell on the gum. “Babbeh am sowwy. Nu wike owies!” He said. Though then the foal realized something…he couldn’t un-hug. “Nummies? Babbeh hav enuff huggies.” He said. He decided to eat his way out! He brought his toothless mouth down on the gum…and was stuck to that as well. He began to struggle further, only able to make little twitches.
“I think we should help him.” Stompie said. She grabbed the foal by the scruff and began to pull the foal away, the fur stretching…then the skin, and finally the skin peeled away. Stompie laughed as the foal screamed worthy enough for death metal. “Sick!” She laughed, and held up the foal for the camera, most of the front skinned off, only a few patches of flesh left, the fur ripped out. The foal lost his voice from screaming so loud, part of his tongue ripped out from the gum that had been in his mouth. “Alright, let’s put the little shit out of his misery.” She wrapped her hand around the foal and squeezed, the blood spurting out between her gloved fingers before she let the thing drop. “One down, one to go. Let’s play with our fluffy first. She’s almost dead.”
Stompie picked up a pair of pruning shears and made her way over to the still hanging mare. She’d dislocated the back limb by now and still had the small bear trap around her front leg. “Which leg do you want to lose, fluffy? You can’t keep them all.” She said.
“Buh…mummah nee weggies! Nee to wun an play and gib huggies-SCREEEE!” She screamed as Stompie slapped her.
“You choose which one to lose, or I’ll choose.” Stompie said. “But you’re losing a leg.”
The fluffy dithered, unable to decider. “Wan aww weggies!” She protested.
Stompie only shook her head. “Bad answer.” She said. She got the shears and cut off the fluffy’s uninjured back leg.
“SCREEEEE! WEGGIE!” She screamed, her front two flailing. Stompie then undid the snare, letting the fluffy drop onto her front legs and snout. She screamed again as one of her front legs was hurt. She sobbed, trying to crawl away by her single uninjured leg.
“You should have chosen. Then you’d lose a bad leg. Now you’ve only got one good leg.” Stompie then brought her fist down on the leg, crushing the bones. “Scratch that. You’ve got no good legs. You must be some kind of dummeh fluffy.” Stompie claimed.
“Nuuu! Nu am dummeh! Am gud fwuffy! Am gud!” She protested, looking up tearfully.
“Then why are all your legs dummeh?” Stompie asked. “If you were a good fluffy your legs would grow back.” She pressed down on the wires of the trap, pressing the pins into the fluffy’s leg.
“SCREEEEEEEEE!” She screamed, trying to wriggle away. “Nu huwties! Nu huwties!”
“Say you’re a dummeh.” She said to the fluffy. After a few more refusals, finally the fluffy gave in.
“F-fwuffy am…d-dummeh fwuffy…” she said between sniffles.
“There. That’s not so bad.” Stompie said. “I’ll give you a treat.”
“Tweat?” The fluffy looked up, instantly brightened. She opened her mouth, only to have a firework shoved in.
Stompie lit the firework and took a few steps back to a safe distance. A few seconds later the fluffy exploded into a shower of gore as the fireworks went off, the lights not hindered at all by the fluffy blood and innards. “Whoohoo! Wasn’t that awesome?” She asked. “Now…we’ve got one little foal left.” She said.
Stompie went to the green egg, the occupant shaking so hard it made the egg shake as well. “Aw. Think they know what’s happening?” She asked. She opened the egg, showing an alicorn. It was white with a blue mane. Beautiful in every way…except it had only one leg. Not entirely…it had a second half leg, but its back two legs were gone. Pretty, but defective. A mare too. Stompie held it up for inspection. “Hm. Genetic defects are a bitch, huh? They don’t want this in the gene pool. And I guess nobody was in the market for a special needs fluffy. Too bad~.” She said. Dangling the fluffy by the half leg, she ignored its peeps and thought. “I’m feeling kind generous…maybe we should give her legs!” She said.
Stompie lowered the foal only to drop it hie last couple inches right on its rear.
“Owies!” The alicorn squeaked and tried to cover her eyes with her hooves. She could only cover one part of her face, the half leg not making it to her eyes. “Munsta nu see fwuffy. Fwuffy nu see munsta.” She squeaked.
Stompie gave an exaggerated eye roll, and reached off camera, taking out a couple wooden skewers. “You never know what you might need. Even if you’re not on an abuse show, you gotta have all sorts of extra stuff ready. And little skewers are very handy. Cheap and easy to get a hold of.”
Stompie used her shears to cut the rods to approximately two foal sizes and a half of one. The sharp ends were the parts going to be used. “There. Our little stand in legs! Let’s put them into the foal!” She grabbed the half leg first, the fluffy shrieking. “Munsta! Munsta see fwuffy!” She screamed.
Stompie held the half limb firmly and pushed the skewer into it slowly.
“SCREEEE! OWIES! OWIES! WEGGIE! SCREEEE! SCREEE!” The alicorn started flailing and struggling for all she was worth, which was not a lot at all.
The skewer was pushed in enough to just about match the front leg. Stompie let the foal go, where she collapsed into a gasping mess, staring at her new faux leg, pawing at it pathetically. Stompie dragged the foal around and over to her by the tail this time.
“N-NU! NUHUHUHUHUUU!” The foal tried to dig her hoof into the ground in vain.
Stompie pushed the rods in, two at a time. It made them more of a V shape going in instead of straight legged, but who cared? Stompie didn’t plan to keep her around too long. Maybe a little past this episode, assuming she survived. “There we go!” She said. She picked the foal up by the scruff and set her on the legs. “Walk.”
“SCREEE! HUWTIES!” The foal screamed, trying to fall. No matter which way she tried to fall, Stompie’s hand was there, preventing it. The foal needed to stay upright on those poking legs. With some sobs, she took a jerky step forward, almost falling on her face, held upright only by her tail. The foal kept trying to take jerky, pain filled steps, used to only dragging herself along by one and a half legs.
Stompie looked at the camera. “We’ll give her some time to get used to them. If she’s not better by next time…it’s hammer time.” Stompie laughed.
She stood up, letting the foal finally fall onto her face, the shot capturing her handiwork. “That’s all for today, my Stompers. See you next time!”
With that Stompie signed off.