You’re Digger, but the young fluffies call you big daddeh, it has been many forevers since you were a foal, now your foals have had foals too.
Every litter, as soon as the foals became talkie babbies, any foal that was not samesies-looking would disappear.
It was heartbreaking, the first time it happened Lady, the smarty of the herd, spent the whole day looking for them to no avail, they simply dissappear, but the Sky-Daddeh had taken pity on you, and sent sketti cubes to help heal your hearts, just as He had sent milk when the four of you where foals.
But this time, Lady has an idea to save the babbies.
Dr.Truman looks at the fluffy farm, from 4 foals the population is now 20, but it’s going to be 11 tomorrow.
The warrens now look quite nice.
Going down the first floor is a big, 1 meter long area that’s high enough for a microfluffy to stand up, so about 10 centimeters tall, they call it the saferoom, and it does serve this purpose, a litter-hole on each edge of the room, it is kept aloof by ‘doors’, single fluffy sized entrances that act as support pillars for the nutrigel ceilings.
In the next ‘floor’ there is an actual food storage area behind a communal nursery nest, the fluffies took bites of their belly fluff and would stomp on it with loose bits of nutrigel to make a carpet like floor where they and their foals stay until weaned.
Opposite to the nest, and a bit lower, was another latrine.
Bellow it where various pockets of “personal” rooms, where fluffies would spend time alone, either to mate or to sulk after conflict.
You contemplated dropping some toys, but decided against it after the fluffies started thanking the food dispenser as it lowered food, and you wondered if giving it toys too would escalate it into them seeing it as a surrogate owner.
The dispenser was a funny little contraption of your youngest son’s invention, the food would go in a refrigerated drawer separated by contents, with imput from a simple app on your phone springs would push out the selected food into a transparent plate, to keep it simple and accident free, it was just some fishing lines operated by small motors that ran on timers,it looked like a remote controlled claw machine.
You notice something weird, the nursing mares are walking to the top, you never seen them do it before, you wonder if they think the nest is what’s making their children dissappear, the poor darlings, if only they came with a buttom to turn off their human speech when needed, indeed, they would be way nicer if they could understand humans but only squeaked like guinea pigs.
Looks like they’re taking their foals with them to get food.
They left the black and white ones behind.
You turn off the mute to see what they’re talking about.
The 3 mares have bought their babies, and Lady tells you all the plan, you have your doubts but she’s the smart one, so you pick some babies and put them in your back too, soon, every fluffy is holding babies, and waiting for Sky-Daddeh.
As you see the food being dropped, you all run there, babbies chirping in your backs.
“chirp chirp Why mummah leave babbie?”
“Wan Mummahs nu go huuu.”
“Babbie wan upsies tu.”
The samesies-looking babbies cry out as they get left behind, but you must help the others before the dark time takes them.
You get there on time, climbing over the nummies, you start placing the babies in the hands of the Sky-Daddeh.
“Stay thewe babbies, guh widh Sky-Daddeh tu skettiwand.”
“Babbeh wan sketti.”
And so on goes the foals, as you all struggle in the limited space to push them there, Dancer even has to climb over you to reach it.
“Wait Sky-Daddeh, nuh fowget Dancew babbies.”
“Wook hewd! Sky-Daddeh wubs babbehs, he gives gud upsies.” Says the happy smarty. Her special friend had mentioned how the hand would always go up fast after it had left the nummies on the floor, and that bad upsies are bad for babbies, you hoped Sky-Daddeh would give good upsies to save the babbies.
“Smawty Wady am bestest smawtie, Sky daddeh’s save babbies, babbies go to skettiwand and have aww de miwkie bwocks and sketti.”
Dancer says, dancing to thank Sky-Daddeh.
“Mummah is bestest mummah.” Says Lady’s daughter, as you all hug together before going back to the three remaining babies, as you hear the chirps of your babies grow distant as they rise.
‘Great, at least a fall is not going to kill them since they’re so small and nutrigel is soft, traumatized fluffies are as annoying as demanding ones.’ Thinks dr.Truman.
The motors where never intended to lift anything other than the empty plataform,in fact, they are purposefully weak as not to accidentally launch some fluffy into orbit, so when that fat fluffy climbed it, they slowed down enough for then to put the foals in the platform, and the motors are still strong enough to carry all the bean sized fols up to the top, where they would stay until someone could take them out or they fell.
Dr. Truman takes his phone, making a call to his son.
Michael Truman is 14 old, he’s playing ball with his dog in the lawn, but stops to look at his ringing phone.
“Oh great, it’s dad.” He says before answering. “What did I do now?”
“What? Why did you ask? Did you do something?”
“What else would you call me for right now?”
“Look, Clide is out for the day already and won’t come back till tomorrow, so listen. You remember the fluffy tank in the basement? I want you to go there, quietly, and click the blue button, just wait the lamps go out, the UV lamps, not the lamps in the ceiling, them you flick the orange switch and wait for it to flip back.
There are foals dangling on the feeding tray, just take them out and put them in an empty box with some of the white blocks from the mini-fridge and them you can go back to playing your video games.”
“I’m playing with Max.”
“sigh Okay Mike, sorry, can you just do it for me?”
“Yeah, blue button, yellow switch, put them in the box with milk, I’ve seen Clide do it, can I keep some?”
“Okay then, daddy loves you, bye.”
“Sweet.” The teen says before running inside.
“Max, wait!” He says to the pug before going down the stairs.
True to his word, Mike easily performs the task, the blue button causes an early night for the micros, mike waits for them to go to sleep before switching the flick, the special fluffy anesthetic puts them into a deeper sleep.
The gas is a cheap Hasbio trademarked compound used initially to send fluffies for delivery, it is now also used in pillowings, castration and surgeries, it only works on fluffies of course and is supposed to do no harm to their organs.
After that it’s easy to just grab the sleeping foals out of the tray one by one and put them in the box.
Dr. Truman watches it through his screen, he takes a sip of his coffee and- “cough Did he just ask to keep them?”
Taking the box upstairs, Mike puts it in the table before texting a couple of friends. Half an hour later they arive.
Jericho and Holly are not really Mike’s friends, they’re just classmates, but from the class groupchat he knows they are ‘fluffriends’ as the others say when messing with them.
Getting a good look at them, they really got nothing to do with each other, Jericho is the epitome of jockness, if he used a team jacket he would look straight out of Mike’s grandma ‘High-school Musical’ movies, blonde hair, blue eyes and all. Holly was a pudgy nerd/goth combo, round glasses, pigtails and black all over, both didn’t really look like the kind of people that would like fluffies at all.
“So, you said you had a box of micro foals?” Holly asks, more enthusiastically than one would expect.
“Can we see them?” Jericho butts in.
Both smile as Mike put’s the box on the ground, Max the pug immediately putting his paws over the edge of the box, looking and sniffing at the sleeping infants.
“No Max they’re not food.” This has the opposite effect, as the dog starts borking and begging after hearing the word. “Just a moment I’ll go give him something so he calms down.”
Jericho looks with concern. “You know dude, you’re gonna spoil him if you keep giving him treats all the time.”
“Yeah if you do that with a fluffy they’re gonna be insufferable.”
Mike considers the advice and decides to listen. “Okay, here Max, go get it.” He says before throwing a ball outside. “Okay, where do we start?”
“Where you gonna put them?” Asks Holly.
“More importantly, how did you get them?”
“Oh, they’re leftovers from my dad, he keeps some. I guess I’ll leave them in the box, I hear they don’t take much space”
“You definitely can, but what fun is there if you can’t see them playing?” Jericho states.
“Making them build a pyramid of lego bricks in your honor?” Says Holly “Giving them a piece of glass and telling them to sacrifice one of themselves in your name if they ever want to see the light again?”
“Sick. Hey, what are those white blocks?” The blonde asks.
“Oh, it’s gelatine milk, they can eat it so you don’t have to hand feed a bunch of shitting, peeing peanuts.” Mike notices one of them moving. “Oh they’re waking up.”
“chirp chirp Mummah? Wewe mummah?snif smew miwkies.” The foal says before moving over to the closest block, walking over her sister and waking her too.
“scree chirp chirp chirp chirp scree Mummah when miwkies? Babbie hungwy.”
“Sky-Daddeh? Can babbie go tu mummah again?”
“Babbeh nee make gud poopies.”
And so they go on until all nine are silently eating the blocks.
“It’s nuts how they can eat a block the size of their heads like it’s nothing.” Holly says, amazed. “The smallest pink one is going for seconds, what the hell.”
“I mean, they grow from 1 centimeter newborns to an adult 10 times that in just a month, so I guess it makes sense they eat so much.”
“You’ve owned them before Jericho?” Michael asks the taller boy.
“No I just looked it up on my phone right now.” He responds lifting his smartphone and showing them the diagram in Hasbio’s webpage for micros.
“How come they didn’t get all annoying about us? Don’t fluffies usual-”
“Wub new mummah.”
“Gibe gud babie bestest wub.”
“Babbie nu wike bwown housie.”
“Thankyu fow bestest miwkies, wub bestest mummah wub wub wub.”
“chirp chirp chirp whewe mummah? Nee fwuffy mummah fo huggies.”
"huu chirp chirp chirp huu*
“puffs cheeks nu scawe sissi.”
“-Yeah that checks out” Holly finishes before pulling out one of the foals.
“*peeeeeep nuh bad upsies, am onwi widwe babbieh.” Screeches a red fluffed, yellow maned filly, before emptying her bowels above a washcloth and being put down inside a pizza box covered with litter sand.
“So, how many are you going to keep?” Holly asks repeating the process in another foal.
“I guess I’ll only keep four, and you guys can take the rest, just a warning, they multiply fast.”
“Nothing some scissors can’t fix, snip snip.” The boys winced at that, much to the brunette’s amusement.
“Sick, so, we got some nice colors here, which ones did you like Michael? hum but I guess, we should go for sex first.”
“Slow down tiger, I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Wha-? No, tha- I didn’t” Jericho stumbles in his words, blushing furiously while Mike and Holly giggle." You’re the worst."
“Well, I’ve already sorted then when giving them THE SQUEEZE, this 5 on the left are girls, the 4 on the right are future eunuchs.”
“Wotsa ewnuch mummie?”
“Nothing you should worry about.” Jericho intervenes before Holly can answer.
In the left tray:
White fluffed, purple maned pegasus.
Red fluffed, yellow maned earthy.
Pink fluffed, pink maned earthy.
Black fluffed, yellow maned and horned unicorn.
Brown fluffed, brown maned unicorn with a yellow horn.
In the left tray:
Pink fluffed, yellow maned earty.
Pink fluffed, blue maned pegasus.
Black fluffed, red maned and horned unicorn.
White fluffed, white maned unicorn with a blue horn.
Holly grabs the brown filly and says “I’m calling this one… Corny!”
“Cowny wub new namesies mummah.”
“Fwuffy wan namesis”
“Gibe namesies to babbie and sissi now.”
While the fluffies call out, Mike is trying not to laugh as Jericho facespalm.
“Really? THAT is what you’re gonna call her? Jeez, I wonder why.”
Mike bursts out laughing now, unable to keep it in, only to stop when Max runs back inside, attracted by the noise. “No Max no, stop, bleh.”
As the herd wakes, they see none of the black and white foals missing, and more importantly, no sketti cubes.
They wondered if that would happen, and had decided saving their babbies would be much more important.
Perhaps for the first time ever, fluffies were happy for not getting sketti.