A harsh wind blew through the mean streets of Manston, New Jersey, rattling windows and shaking trees as it battered and beat it’s way between the tall brick buildings.
It was a dark night, with naught but hazy street-lights to illuminate the sidewalks, as assorted litter and debris blew around in the violent gusts. Not a soul could be seen on the streets… save for a small fuzzy blob which was staggering through the blasts of wind as best it could.
She a unicorn fluffy pony, covered in yellow fluff with a black mane and tail, and was named Hufflepuff… a name her former owner had come to regret following certain news updates.
But as for why Hufflepuff was outdoors so late at night… it was a tale as old as time. Hufflepuff had wanted to have babies, but her owner said no. So Hufflepuff asked again, her owner again said no. Hufflepuff was unperturbed by this setback, and asked again… and was still told no.
Finally realising that her owner obviously didn’t understand the wonderful benefits of having several extra mouths to feed (namely that they’re just so cute!!!), Hufflepuff took off into the wide black yonder that was the dirty, smoke-filled streets of Manston, New Jersey.
Within a day she’d regretted it, until she’d met what she hoped would be her special-friend. He had introduced himself as ‘Smawty’ (which Hufflepuff thought was a very odd name indeed), at which point they’d had special-huggies. Once it was over Hufflepuff wanted to follow Smarty, since they were special-friends now, only for him to kick her in the face and declare that no, they were not special-friends, she was what he called an ‘enfie-mawe’ and nothing more.
Hufflepuff didn’t know what an ‘enfie-mawe’ was, but she didn’t like it anyway.
Some weeks passed, and Hufflepuff soon had her foals, all of whom were tightly nestled into the fluff on her back as she fought her way through the blistering winds of Munston, New Jersey.
“Widdwe fuwthah babbehs!” Hufflepuf whined as she struggled to keep walking into the powerful gale. “Almos’ dewe! Jus’ widdwe fuwthah!”
In reality, she wasn’t going anywhere, but she had convinced herself that walking forwards, to something, was progress of some kind, meaning it was worth doing. So rather than take shelter in an alley and wait for the wind to die down, Hufflepuff had, brilliantly, decided to carry her babies into a blasting wind under the vague promise of something being waiting for them at the end.
Then, by a quirk of fate, a trash-can was knocked over by a particularly violent breeze. It landed with a booming clatter right next to Hufflepuff and her brood, resulting in each of her five foals alternately shitting or pissing all over her back.
“It otay babbehs! Wookie!” She cried, ambling through the wind towards the bin. “Nummies and housie!”
The bin’s lid had already rolled away and plenty of garbage had spilled out, which was giving off a richly foul stench… which told Hufflepuff that there was food inside the bin!
She reached the open maw of the bin and tipped to one side, letting her wet, smelly foals slide from her back and onto the warm, damp innards of the bin. She pushed them in one by one with her hooves, then finally crawled in herself, using her fluffy, bulky rear to block the mouth as best she could, keeping the wind out.
At last, they had reached… ‘it’. Yes, that’s right, this is where they’d been going the entire time!
Hufflepuff busied herself chewing on a rotting banana peel, fighting the urge to vomit with every rubbery, gristly chomp by reminding herself she needed this disgusting food to make milk for her five mewling babies.
Twisting herself around where she sat, Hufflepuff was able to present her teats to her foals, letting them drink her milk one by one… well, almost.
Her bestest went first, of course, because he was the bestest! He got to have an entire teat to himself, while the other four had to share one among themselves. Even then, when any of the other foals were added, her bestest would squeak angrily and try to hit them with his chubby, flailing limbs.
But eventually, each foal had been fed and it was time to sleep. Outside the wind continued to howl and chilled Hufflepuff’s rear, but it didn’t matter, she had gotten her babies (especially her bestest baby) to a safe place for the night. Of course, they had left a safe place to get here, but that was besides the point.
Hufflepuff watched as her bestest screwed up it’s face, squeaked and then promptly dropped a log of shit directly into the face of it’s brother.
“Nu, bestest!” Hufflepuff squeaked. “Nu make poopies on bwuddah! Bwuddah am nu fow dat!”
Chirp was all her bestest had to say about that, before releasing a steaming trickle of urine into his brother’s face too. Hufflepuff just rolled her eyes and smiled to herself, what can you do?
Eventually the group fell asleep as the wind continued to wail. The hours rolled on, the wind died down at last, and the sun started to creep it’s way back into the sky.
Hufflepuff and her brood were slowly roused from their slumber by a noise. A kind of low humming sound, kind of rumble-y, and nearby. It halted right next to them and went quiet.
Then they heard voices.
“…so I says to her, ‘bitch, if you didn’t want the surgery, why did you get it?!’ And you’ll never guess what she says back!”
“I’m not interested enough to even try and guess, Mike.”
“She says ‘because I thought it’s what you wanted!’ I mean, can you believe that shit?!”
“I haven’t even been listening, Mike.”
“So then I says to her, I says, I says ‘bitch, if you thought I wanted it, why didn’t you ask me first?!’ And then, right, then she says, well, guess what she says!”
“Mike, you are boring the shit right out of my colon, please stop talking to me about this.”
“…that’s exactly what she said. Weird!”
Hufflepuff and her foals were quiet as the two men’s voices approached their home. Then, all of a sudden, everything tilted! Their trash-can home was lifted into the air, rocking them all around, as it was tilted 90 degrees to be upright again, sending mama Hufflepuff crashing face-first into her foals as they all fell deeper into the bin.
“God, look at that.” One voice said, picking something up. “Every week, I swear, the wind picks up and knocks all the trash out of these things.”
Then, with a heave, a stray black bag of trash was dumped into the bin, covering Hufflepuff’s rear and sealing her inside the can.
“I’ll get this, you get the other one, Mike. Maybe tell it about your ex while you’re doing it.”
“Hey, that’s a great idea! So anyway, I says to the bitch, right, I says ‘bitch, listen to me’, and she says…”
The man’s voice faded out as the trash can was carried somewhere, Hufflepuff and her foals feeling every jostling, shaking foostep.
“Hewp! Hewp mummah Huffwepuff! Am stuckies! Nu am twashies! Hewp!” She cried, as her foals chirped and squealed, feeling the weight of their own mother’s body slowly crushing them, as she herself was pushed downwards by a heavy bag of garbage.
Then they stopped. Hufflepuff’s heart lifted, clearly the man had heard her impassioned pleas and was going to free them! Then he’d take them home, and give them all spaghetti, and…
The trash-can was tilted upwards, at an awkward angle, and Hufflepuff felt herself sliding backwards. Befoer she knew what was happening, she’d fallen out of the trash-can and landed with a quiet ‘oof!’ on a pile of shiny black plastic thingies, all of which smelled terrible!
Then her foals landed with her, followed by a scattering of trash from the bottom of the bin.
Before Hufflepuff could say even a thing, the man turned away, still carrying the trash-can, and put it back where it belonged.
She looked around where she was, it was a large metal box of some kind, with a big opening through which she could see daylight and the street reaching into the distance. The ground was squishy and soft, and actually quite comfy… but it all stank!!! Worse than the worstest bad-poopies in the history of the world!
Then, a second later, Hufflepuff heard something else!
“…and then she says ‘if you didn’t have erectile dysfunction, I wouldn’t need the fuckin’ vibrator!’ So then I says to her, right, ‘bitch, I’ve only got E.D. because you keep screaming at me all day long!’ Then she, right, she says…”
The man reached the large open area, and lifted the trash-can he was carrying. Hufflepuff was just about to ask if he could adopt her and her spawn, when suddenly a heap of filthy, foul, stinking trashies poured out of the bin and directly into her face!
Empty glass bottles thumped into her head, smelly bits of rotten food slapped wetly against her fluff, trickles of liquid poured all over her, and did the same to each of her foals, practically burying them under a mound of fetid waste.
The second man finished shaking out the bin and thumped something on the side of the box as he walked away again, still muttering to himself about the ‘bitch’. Then, with a groaning, grinding sound, things suddenly got much worse for Hufflepuff and her foals.
At first it seemed like things were getting darker, but then Hufflepuff realised the box was closing somehow, with big jagged teeth-like coverings sliding down over the gap… then she realised the ground itself seemed to be moving, and that the ceiling was moving too!
The box itself was getting smaller!
“Eep!” She squeaked, jumping up and scrambling to get out of the ever-constricting space of the stinking box, but her hooves slipped against the wet plastic surface of the great many trash-bags underneath her. Not only that, but her foals were scattered among the other trash, having fallen, rolled and bounced when they were emptied out of the bin.
She ran for her bestest first, but saw he had slipped into a hole between some large bags, and couldn’t be pulled out!
“Am sowwy bestest, will come back fow yoo!” She promised as she left to fetch another baby first, her bestest baby shrieking indignantly as his mother left him behind.
She snatched up one of her foals in her mouth and hastily put it on her back, then picked up another, putting it by the first. She had just put a third on her back, and was waddling to a fourth, when her hoof hit a patch of particularly slippery liquid-covered plastic and she slipped, landing on her belly and sending her foals tumbling all over the trash-bags once more.
“NU-U-U! BABBEHS!!!” She shrieked, watching the jagged jaws slide ever closer together.
There was no way Hufflepuff could get out of the box anymore, the two metal coverings were almost fully shut, she couldn’t possibly fit… but one of her foals just might!
Hufflepuff abandoned the rest of her spawn and ran-stumbled back over to her bestest, who had sunk even lower into the bags since she’d left him. She could only just see his head protruding now, so, with no other choice, she gently bit down around his head and pulled. Her bestest baby shrieked and wailed at the absolute rudeness of his mother’s actions, but she didn’t care, she had to get him to safety!
With one sharp yank she managed to pull him free of the bags, at the cost of having sunken her teeth into his head far enough to draw blood. Her bestest was still alive, his shrieking could attest to that, but already Hufflepuff could taste the metallic tang of blood on her tongue.
It was now or never!
With a firm flick of her head, she let go and the fat foal’s corpse flew through the air, soaring towards the rusty stain-covered metal jaws of the box.
Then, by a mathematical improbability, against all reason and logic, against sanity itself… her baby got halfway through the jagged metal coverings right as they became too narrow for him to continue.
Her baby was stuck half in, half out, perfectly wedged between the metal jaws.
But the jaws did not notice this tiny shrieking obstacle… and they did not stop.
Slowly, the metal jaws sunk into the bestest foal’s flabby, over-fed body, skewering into his chirping, peach-fuzz covered bulk. He let out a long, piercing shriek as his organs were ripped into by the metal teeth of the doors, his blood mixing with his shit as it poured out of his body, soaking the doors with another stain of a whole new shade of disgusting.
“Babbeh… bestest babbeh, nu…” Hufflepuff whispered, unable to believe what she was seeing. Her bestest baby, the one that deserved it’s freedom, was having it’s very life torn out of it’s body by vicious, relentless mechanical fangs.
Finally the doors fully closed, blotting out the last sliver of light as the rest of the compartment began to close. With a wet thump, the front half of the bestest foal landed on a trash-bag, not only unable to escape it’s fate, but suffering all the worse for it’s attempts.
Trapped in pitch blackness, the surviving foals and Hufflepuff herself were put through relentless hell.
The trash-bags all around them pushed and squeezed into them, some bursting open and spilling out their load of foul debris onto the assorted fluffies. With no way for fresh air to get in, the smell had become unbearable, forcing several of them to vomit.
As the space grew narrower, it got worse. The squeezing grip of the plastic trash-bags trapped the fluffies where they were. Bottles shattered and sent glittering splinters flying in every direction. The ceiling had come so low that Hufflepuff was being crushed down into the mass of filth under her hooves. Her face was pressed against the plastic surface of a trash-bag, the stink of which was so vile it caused her to vomit, but with nowhere for the bile to go, it gathered in her throat as she began to choke.
One by one, her foals were killed. Some were quietly suffocated, others were violently popped as their bodies were crushed into nothingness. Even her bestest eventually shrieked his last, but the last to go was Hufflepuff herself, choking on her own vomit, surrounded by filth and stench, wishing she had just stayed home…
