Tales from Skettiland (Chapter 1) (qwertytf)

You wake up groggily and find yourself in an endless line of fluffies. Forward and back, it seems to go on forever. And it feels like you’ve been in line forever. But it also feels like you haven’t been in the line at all. Time loses meaning as you shuffle forward, growing ever closer to a glistening wall made of pasta.

“Next Fwuffy, pwease.” An pink allicorn with a light pink mane is sitting on a very comfortable looking throne. You find yourself suddenly at the front of the line, right up to the gates. A sign written in comic sans proudly declares, “The Pasta Pallisade”.

“Hewwo mistuh Gwegowy. Wewcome tuh da gates of sketti. We wiwke tu make suwe aww fwuffies hab ans easy time movins on, so it can takes a few fohevehs. Sowwy bout dat, but we ams wowkin ons it!”

“Um… hewwo pwetty mawe. Dis ams Skettiland?”

“Awmost! Just habs sum tings tu du befo-” The mare is cut off by angry shouting.

“Wet Smawty Ins! Wans skettis! Dummeh doww!” A blue stallion had skipped the line and was stomping about in front of the pasta palisade.

“Ecks-cusies, habs tu deaw wid dis.” the pink mare said as she hopped off her cushion. “Siw, pwease moves backs tu da wine.”

“Nuh! Dummeh mawe, wet smawty ins! Wine ams foh dummeh babbehs!”

The mare looked back at the line which had a separate conveyor belt just for chirpies, sensitives, and the odd pillow that preferred to not have their legs, “Onwy haff da wine ams foh dummeh babbehs. Dewe ams a wine foh oddah fwuffs tuu.”

The smarty considered this for a moment. There was clearly a line for dummies and a line for not dummies. His argument had fallen flat. It vexed him. He stomped his hooves on the checkerboard tiles that decorated the ground, “Nuh cawe! Wans Skettis!”

The mare chuckled and gave a tired smile, “Bettah wuck next times, fwen.” And pulled on a cord that seemingly dropped from nowhere.

“Wha yu means?” The Smarty asked. He felt a draft under him and looked down. The ground was gone! His legs scampered in midair for a few precious seconds until he fell down onto a long, long slide. A slide-whistle heralded his descent as he slide out of sight.

The mare snickered and trotted back to her desk, “Sowwies. Sometimes dummies fink dey bettah den dey awe.”

“Wha happen tu da fwuffy?” You ask in mild terror. You went to forever sleepies and there’s still hurties? What a rip off!

“Bad fwuffs goeses backs down tu twy bein’ a fwuff again. Nuh huwties, buh da swide downs ams vewy vewy wong su dey can fink 'bout wat dey did wong. Nao den. Wets wook ats yur fiwe.” The mare pretended to shuffle some papers around, making a show of things. You got the distinct impression she wasn’t actually looking at anything, but you appreciated the effort.

“Twee yeaws owd, sweepies foh savins mummah fwom meanie daddeh. Mostwy good fwuffy, sum bad poopies buh nutin sewious. Yur appwoved. Pwease enjoys Skettiwand.”

You suddenly recalled how you died. Widdwe mummahs mean daddeh was going to give her hurties again. You were sick of it. You charged his legs as he wound up to hit her, buying your widdwe mummah time to get away. He kicked you into the wall, and next thing you knew you wound up here.

“Ams mummah otay?”

The mare smiled, “Yur widdwe mummah ams otay. Da daddeh cowdn’ 'splain wai yu wen sweepies ans yur mummah gots a nyu daddeh. Yu dids good. Nao goes on, siwwy.” She gestured you to the gates of the pasta palisade. They had opened while you were distracted. You cautiously walk in and the gates shut behind you.

Skettiland is beautiful. Rolling hills of verdant green, each topped with a tree full of fruit and comfy blankets arranged under them. Housies of different shapes and sizes scattered as far as you could see. The sun had a smile on its face and the clouds were singing songs of joy. It reminded you of the safe room from your shelter. It reminded you of mummah and daddeh. You smiled.

The world shifts and you find yourself in a tiny office. A brown mare with poofy hair gestures for you to take a seat. “Hewwo nyu fwen! Ams Ecwaire. Hewe tu hewp giv you biggest heawt happies evah!”

“Yu habs widdwe mummah?!” Your tail bats against the ground in excitement. The biggest happies could only mean widdwe mummah. Nothing else compared!

The mare winced and gave a sheepish smile, “Nuh, widdwe mummah nuh ams sweepies yets. Buh! Wens mummah comes tu hoomin’ skettiwand yu cans go sees hew. Tiww den, we gots wots of funs foh yu!”

Your heart sinks. You miss widdwe mummah a lot. “Habs some askies foh yu. Du yu wike babbehs? Ebah wan be daddeh?”

“…Yus buh nebah hab speshaw wumps.” You had lost yours before you even opened your see places.

“Nuh wumps? Yu suwe?”

You raise an eyebrow and look down. “Wumps!?”

“Yuhs. Aww fwuffies ams how deh wanna bes ins skettiwand. Yu wan be daddeh? Deh ams pwenty of babbehs dat wan wubs. Buh dew ams mowe tings tu. Habs bawws, bwokies, su many tings. Wha yu wants tu du mostest of aww? Othew dan mummah.” She grinned at you apologetically.

“Fwuffy… Gwegowy wans splowe! Nebbah gots tu go outside. Had mummah su dat was otay buh nuh mummah? Wan splowe tiww mummah!”

The mare smiles and nods. “Weds gets yu weady den!” The room shifts and you find yourself in a slightly oversaturated forest. The trees are smiling, the bees are singing songs about honey, and now the sun has a ‘splorin hat! And now you have a splorin’ hat too!

“Waow.” you say, “Suh many pwaces tu spwowe!”

A tiny bedraggled woman with dull grey hair dressed in green shuffles by you. You wave at her excitedly! This was the first human you had seen since you got here and she looked like she needed a hug. And huggies are what you do best, “Hewwo nice wady, ams yu otay?”

She looked down at you with distant, tired eyes. She took a deep breath and cracked her back. “Well hey there little buddy! Thanks for the concern but I’m doing just dandy. Never better, and never a bad time here in Skettiland! Now you run along, I’m sure you’ve got places to be.”

Looking at her with a neutral gaze of disbelief you waddled on over and hugged her leg tightly, “Wady, nuh need tu pweten if yu habs saddehs. Gwegowy ams hewe tu gib huggies.”

The woman looks down at you with surprise and gives you a genuine smile, “Aww geez. Here I am running myself ragged trying to make things perfect for you guys and I managed to forget something so simple.” The woman picks you up and gives you a tight squeeze. It’s warm and wonderful, probably the second best hug you’ve ever gotten. Not quite as good as hugs from widdwe mummah, but it sure was close.

She puts you down and pats you on the head, “Thanks little man. Have some thinking to do about how to make you folks feel useful. Any suggestions?”

You sit on your rump and stroke your chin, “Yu ams onwy wady Gwegowy sees hewe, buh fwuffies ams foh huggies an wub foh mummahs ans daddehs…”

The woman nodded and prompted you to go on, “Su… Skettiwand needs moh hoomins.”

“Probably not going to get real people but making convincing enough facsimiles is up my alley. Good idea, Greg.”

“Yu knowses Gwegowie’s namesies?” you ask in disbelief.

“Honey, I know everyone’s namesies. You keep on keepin’ on. Have work to do.” The woman gave you finger guns and disappeared in a flash of green sparkles.

“…otay.” You shrugged and continued down the path. One of the weirder wonders of Skettiland, but maybe that one just wasn’t for you. You shrug and continue down the path. You had time to kill, and a whole new world to explore!


Qwerty stories links

New side series in the mother mare saga. Takes place after eclaire and cherry die of old age (?).

Timeline’s probably Mother mare → Jennifer’s Fluffies → Tales of the Gween Mummah → Tales from Skettiland.

Gimme suggestions of fluffys you’d like to see the afterlives of, i dunno it’s a fun thought experiment.

8 Likes

It’d be a trip and a half to see Jennifer.

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A fluffy who was abused into being cannibalistic and violent.

3 Likes

Gregory’s a good boy. :slight_smile:

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Yeah, love me some hugbox but gimme some angst on the way. Love a good redemption story

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