You’re name is Poopie and you can comfortably say that you now have a herd of your own, you aren’t exactly sure what the necessary number is but you were fairly certain you have just enough now. Despite that, you still feel a sense of apprehension about taking the name “Smarty”. You know you want it, you know it’ll finally make you feel like something more than a poopie eating loser, yet for some reason it doesn’t quite fit yet, like a suit that’s one size too big… not that you’ve ever worn a suit, or any clothing for that matter, unless the dried poopies stuck in your fluff counted as fashion.
You and your wayward lot had been walking for countless fowevas, all of you ached but it was all worth it, because there you stood at the entrance of the famous ‘Cwate Town’. A large twin set of doors stood before you, they served as if they were the gate to some great empire and in your way, standing as the vanguard, were four of the meanest looking stallions you had ever seen, all of them stood in a row, unmoving, grumpy and with tall black hats (which in truth were just the discarded spit guards from a microphone set).
“whu an fwuffies? Wat wan?” the scar coated guard asked.
“Am hewe wid hewd, nee pwace tu stay fow whiwe” you replied.
“smawty hab poh-wew-see, nyew fwuffies hab tu wait outsidies fow wun bwite times, gu ober der an com backsies in da earwy times!” he scary stallion barked at you and you weren’t going to argue. You were too tired, too hungry and far too sore to even entertain the idea of sowwy hoofsies against one tuffie, let alone four.
You all curled up inside of a tipped over metal can, although it wasn’t a twashie can, or like the yellow foweva sweepies can you and Munstah met in, no, this one smelled a bit weird, a little like the smoke that came out the back end of the metal vroom vroom munstahs.
The sky baww went low and the stars in the dawk time were beautiful and plenty, almost beautiful enough to distract from how badly the dawk times bad your herd shiver in fear.
“Patchies n-n-nu wike dawkies…” she cried softly to no-fluffy in particular.
“nu fwuffy wike dawkies but aww git used tu it” Munstah said softly, trying her hardest to ease the filly. You considered telling her the truth, that no-fluffy ever gets used to the dawkies, but you didn’t have the heart to tell Patchies the truth. Her, Dewp, Downa and Stitch had only been what the hoomins call a “feral” for only a single bwite time, they’ll learn in time, you were sure of it.
You awoke in the dead of sweepy time like you always did, bad sweepy time pictews always came after you in the dawk. You remembered your mummah, how so badly you wanted her love, how you had never got it. You didn’t even experience love until you met Dummeh, then Munstah and you had never even imagined how deep ‘speshew’ love could be until you saw ZeewoZeewoWun and Wan Die. You remembered how angry she was when he was threatened, how she’d never travel far without him, how she sang and whispered to him. You wanted that kind of love, but it felt so distant for a poopie such as you. You nearly cried at the thought, all the images in your thinkie pwace dancing around, the good, the bad, the wants and the fears. It was so bad, all of it, so much so that you wanted to scream… then they stopped. A noise came to you, cutting through the bad pictews like a metal shawpie, it was soft and beautiful, it was ZeewoZeewoWun again, she was lovingly, quietly and thoughtfully singing to her speshew fwend as she stroked his mane like she always did when he couldn’t sleep. But this time felt different, because she didn’t know that you were awake, as far as she cared in that single moment the entire can, no, the world even, was comprised exclusively of her and him.
“
yew awe muh sun-shine, muh onwy sun-shine, yew mayk me happies when sky am gwey, yew’ww nebew nu deaw how mush I wuv yew, su pwease nu tayk… Muh sunshine a’way…”
You hadn’t heard many songies in your short life but you knew that this one was special, very special. It made you feel warm, it made you feel happies and it also made you feel a little saddies too. If only hearing a song not meant for you could make you feel so much, then Wan Die must feel so much more, even if he couldn’t say it, but he showed, he didn’t shake or mumble, he didn’t shiver or flinch. All there was for him was his speshew fwend.
You almost felt compelled to speak, to run, to hug, to do something with all the feelings you felt, that was until Munstah beat you to it.
“dat am most bee-yu-ti-fuw songies dat Munstah hab eber heawd… Where weawn it, Fwom mummah?” your yellow friend asked, raising her head to reveal that, much like you, she also was a light sleeper.
“nu hab mummah, nebew hab, but membew timsie at wab-err-wa-towy. Wen wus just widdle bebbeh, membew nice wady who gabe miwkies fwom bottwe… Nice wady gabe songie tu ZeewoZeewoWun… It am speshew” ZeewoZeewoWun replied before snuggling tightly against her speshew fwend and cooing softly, now that he had returned to sweepies.
You watched your twashies fwend stare at the couple for what felt like fowevas, her face was almost as wet as yours. Then suddenly she did something that you did not expect, she got up and waddled over to you. In panic you closed your see-pwaces and went limp, an old trick you learned to hidies from hoomins and bawkie munstahs. She got close, so very close that you felt her breath on your mane and then she laid down before finally curling up next to you. You didn’t really know what to do or say, but she was warm and she was nice and she cared about you, that much was obvious.
“…wuv…” she sighed out, so quietly that you could barely hear it, but it didn’t matter, you felt it. You didn’t know what to do or say or even think, you felt scawdies but not the kind you’ve ever felt before, so you did nothing, you just kept your see-pwaces shut tight and slept. So many feelings, you’ll sort them all out in the bwite time.
The day was new and the wingie chirpies were singing. You had decided to forget about the last sweepie time, it gave you too many heawt huwties and thinkie-pwace hewties, and right now your herd needed you to be strong.
You ordered the gang to start splowin and find whatever nummies they could and load then up onto the skattie boawd. After a couple fowevas passed, the boawd was absolutely stacked with a collection of trashie nummies, gwassie nummies and even a few sweetie nummies that Dewp had found in a pwetty and colourful plastic packet.
With your little caravan all set you returned to the gate and met with the same angry looking stallion as before. He lined you up and gave you all the breakdown of the intricate and complicated laws of Cwate Town… all three of them.
"otay! Hewe awe dah wuwes! An memba dem weww!:
Wuwe wun. NU TAWK BOUT CWATE TOWN TO UDDER FWUFFIES AN EX-SPESH-OWW-WY HOOMINS!
Wuwe twu. Fwost mayk wuwes, wat himb say am wat yew du.
Wuwe thwee. Nu fite wid udder fwuffies in cwate town, ifv hab pwobwem den tayk pwobwem tu da angwy boxie"
“Dewww… Wat am Angwy Boxie?” Dewp asked with his saliva coated hoofie waving in the air.
“hehehe, yew wiww see…” one of the other guards chuckled. Before a quick glance from his boss shut him up.
After a moment the guards all knocked on the door, three knocks from the guard on the far left, then the middle left, then middle right, then far right.
After a bit of whispering from behind the gates, they were suddenly pulled up from within by ten very strong and big guard fluffies on either side, revealing a world you had never known could exist.
It was a city of fluffies, every inch of the wawehousie was a busy street or collection of wooden bwockie housies, the cwates that now served as the domiciles of tiny herds and small families were all emptied and the twashies inside. Those junkies were all piled up high in the far back like a great mountain with the biggest boxie on top.
You all wondered through the market where fluffies were doing the strangest thing you’d ever seen, they were doing “twadies” but on a scale you’d never seen before. From mummahs selling spare miwkies so their bebbehs could have toys, from cup carrying fluffies selling ‘cwean wawa’ for nummies, it all seemed like these fluffies had figured something out.
A dirty old fluffy with a messy mane came up to you with a small dish on his back, “hewwo poopie fwuffy, wan sum wawa? Onwy twu nummie fow wun sippie!” he grinned.
Before you could even consider it, young Patchies climed up and took a sip before immediately making sickie wawas over the floor.
“nu taste pwetty, am diwties” she gagged.
“hehehe, wats a bit ob poopie wawa eh? Stiww cweana den wats outsidies” the messy stallion laughed as he waddled over and reached for some nummies on the boawd.
“Nu!” ZeewoZeewoWun stomped as she stood between him and the herd’s hard earned nummies, “Dat am bad twade, dummeh wawa fwuffy am wier!”.
“DUMMEH FIWWY DWANK DA WAWA! DEMS DA WUWES!” he snapped.
Suddenly the busy market went deathly silent, all fluffies turned to your herd and the fiasco around you.
“weww… Ifv nu gib nummies… Cuppy wan enfies den…” he groaned creepily, licking his lips at the orange mare before him.
“NU! ENF OFF! HAB BESTEST SPESHEW FWEND! GU WAY!” she growled back as she pointed to Wan Die, shaking and staring at the exchange in front of him, shaking more than you had ever seen.
“himb? Dummeh fwuffy am bwoken, nu can speakies, nu wan wunnies ow pway… Bet nu gib gud enfies eiber… Cuppy bet pwetty mawe wan a weaw stawwion, nu sum bwoken stoopid stawwion” he laughed as he pretended to be Wan Die, getting low and shaking. You hated this meanie stallion and you weren’t fond of the fluffies that were laughing along with him in the market either. You wanted to step in and give him some serious stompies… Then she beat you to it.
“SAY DAT GAIN!” your orange friend ordered as she got down low, like a meowie munstah before the strike.
“Himb am bwo-”.
She didn’t even give him time to finish, her teethies were already in her neckie. ZeewoZeewoWun then twisted and pulled as had as she could and immediately a chunk of him came off.
She got on top and started giving hoofsies again and again and again.
“SAY SOWWY! SAY AM SOWWY! DU IT!” she barked at him. So loudly that it drowned out the “huuhuuhuu pweas, nu mowe, nu huwt Cuppy! Am gud fwuffy! Screeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
Before you could even react you were all completely surrounded by guard stallions, three of whom had to hold the orange mare back as she kept hitting the Cuppy, even when two of them were trying to stop her.
You and your herd were swiftly and unceremoniously dragged to the big boxie a top the twashie hill and inside was one of the biggest, scariest, most dangerous looking fluffies you would ever seen. He was so big that he took up nearly a quarter of the boxie’s space, he looked like a dummeh too, even more of a dummeh than your Dummeh.
“grrrrrrmmmmmmm” the giant grumbled with drool dribbling from his mouthie until you saw something wriggle upon his head. “out ob da enfin way, Snowfwake! Fwost nu can see!” a tiny voice squeaked.
The absolute behemoth lowered his humongous head and revealed on top of him was a tiny little fluffy unicorn, a light blue fluffy, same colour as his giant tuffie.
“whu am dis?” the teeny smarty said, ordering an explanation.
"owange scawy mawe fite Cuppy in da mawket, gu tu Angwy Boxie? The guard asked.
“yus, ob-vi-ows-wy…” the micro said as he rolled his beady little eyes.
“dat nu faiw, ebery-fwuffy nos dat Cuppy am bad fwuffy, himb twade bad wawa. Dey am nyew! Dey nu no!” the beautiful mare in the corner said, sat upon her cozy looking silk bedsie.
This mare was silver with the wildest and most expressive mane and tail you had ever seen. To add to her beauty she was covered in glitter and a little plastic tiara sat crooked on her head.
“nu cawe, Speshew fwend! Dey bweak da wuwes! An wat Fwost say, Fwost meansie!”
But his partner was not persuaded, she made her eyes really big and really sparkly as she got down low and stared up at her tiny little husband. “p-p-pwease…” she begged.
“…fine… Stoopid hewd can pickies… Eiber scawy mawe gu in da Angwy Boxie, ow obber fwuffy fwom hewd gu in!” he declared with a regal wave of his tiny hoofsie.
You were the first to raise your hoofsie beating Munstah by only half a second, then Dummeh, then Stitch, then Dewp and you could almost swear that from the corner of your see-pwace you witnessed Wan Die, trying desperately to raise his shivering hoofsie, shaking like he was about to explode.
“AM SMAWTY! WAT HEWD DU WONG, SMAWTY DU WONG! wiww gu…” you declared with a stomp and a huff towards your herd. If anyone is going to be punished, it was going to be you… no "if"s, "and"s or "but"s about it.
“yew am Smawty tu?..” the tiny ruler squinted down at you with a raised brow.
“yus?” you replied with your head cocked a-jar as you turned back around to face him, not sure as to why he was asking.
Then he puffed up his cheeks and started stomping and kicking and squealing in the biggest fit of rage you had ever seen.
“FWOST HAYT UBBER SMAWTIES! AM DA ONWY WUN! FWOST WUN CWATE TOWN, NU-FWUFFY EWSE!.. TU DA ANGWY BOXIE!” he declared with a squeak, as if you he were sending you to a guaranteed execution.
One of the gaurds gave bities on the back of your neckie and dragged you through the streets of Cwate Town as the slowly building crowd behind you started murmuring.
“bweak da wuwes, face da boxie, bweak da wuwes, face da boxie!”
By the time the guard carrying you had turned the corner, the crowd that followed behind had gone from murmuring to outright screaming their mantra as your see-pwaces locked with the infamous Angwy Boxie and your boo boo wawa ran cold.
“Oh Poopies…” you thought to yourself as you left a trail of sowwy peepees in your wake.
-To be continued-
