Your name is Poopie and you are being followed.
You’ve been running for what has felt like many fowevas but you can’t stop, you can’t sleep, not now, not whilst three scary looking fluffies are trailing behind you.
What you’re trying to do right now is get to your herd at the park. There aren’t a lot of you and most of you aren’t in any fighting form but you just need the numbers and safety of your friends right now to scare away the big meanie fluffies.
“nee, wun, fastew” you repeat to yourself with each breath, hyping yourself up towards your goal.
You got to the big yellow twashie can that you first found Munstah in and then turned into the park.
Your little hoofies had hewties like nobody’s business. You are pretty certain that no fluffy had ever ran as long and as hard as you had in that moment.
“neawy, dewe!” you huff hopefully.
As you made your way onto the gwassies you could see a few multi-coloured dots underneath the comfortable shade of the big tree you’d left your herd in. Yellow, pink, greens and one orange, YES, it’s them!
“FWIENS! HEWP POOPIE!” you cry but your voice doesn’t carry against the winds.
You begin to feel your weggies buckle from the stress and the fading adrenaline. You were so close, so close that you could almost smell them, so cl-…
Just then a terrible crushing pain hit you in the side that you had no preparation for. The wind was knocked out of your body as you slid across the gwassies and into one of the weggies of a park bench.
You looked up and it was one of the three mean stallions, although… This wasn’t a stallion.
“hewwo widdle poopie…” the big butch figure smirked at you. She was wide with a strong puffed out chest and her face was ugly as a puddle of sickies on a warm bwite timsie. One of her see-pwaces was all scratched and white like miwkies, she was a muted, almost grey dark blue mare with a messy and short black mane.
“big mummah smawty wan tu hab a wowdsie wid yew… Smawty kiwwa…” she clarified before licking her lips in a way that made you feel a very new kind of fear, “Den yew gon be an enfie-stawwion fow Twacka an fwens hewe” she added while motioning to her fellow tuffies.
One of her gang was also a mare, she was about your size and a creamy colour, her head pointy was snapped in the middle, leaving a very sharp and deadly shiv that was badly covered up by the very long fringe of her light poopie coloured mane.
The last of the trio was a stallion with a gross, very deep and shiny pink coat and a curly silver mane. He looked very thin for a tuffie but was tall and had a very pwetty face, almost like a mare.
“we gon hab fun wid yew” Twacka said with a smirk before she bit down on your tail and began the process of dragging you away.
“NU! NU WAN, NU WAN ENFIES WID UGWY MAWE! NU WAN SEE FATTIE PINKIE MEANIE SMAWTY MAWE EIDER! WET GUUUUU!” you protested, “HEEEEEWWWWWP!” you cried to the your friends, reaching out to them in the distance as if your little weggies had a chance to reach them.
You screamed and begged for your herd and whether it was the noise, the movement or just the grace of sky-deddeh above, ZeewoZeewoWun looked up from grooming her speshew fwend and saw you. And immediately she motioned for Dummeh (with Sensitibe still on his back) and Munstah to follow her before charging.
Twacka dropped and got on top of you as her tuffies circled her protectively.
“wat am yew doin wid Poopie smawty?” ZeewoZeewoWun demanded with a stomp of her hoofsie.
“nun ob yew enfing busy-ness, scawy mare!” the pink pwetty stallion said sharply, looking down his muzzle on her like she were a fresh puddle of sowwy poopies.
“GIB MUNSTAH’S TWASHIE FWEND BACKSIE NOW OW YEW GIT DA WOWSTEST FOWEBA SWEEPIES!” Munstah declared at the top of her lungs as she puffed her cheeks, pointing her head pointie at Twacka, puffed her chest and unfurled her wingies.
You had never seen her be mad before, it scared you a little but also, even now, felt big heawt happies that another fluffy could feel so strongly about you.
“EEEEEEEEK! MUNSTAH!” the pink stallion cried as he did scawdie dancies and made a little scawdie peepee.
“Twacka wemembew YEW!” she said devilishly. “Twacka fownd Munstah and gabe tu bwack pointie smawty… Wast Twacka hewd, Munstah was da enfie mawe fow dat WHOWE hewd” she clarified spitefully.
“SHUDDUP!” Munstah screamed, her lip quivering and her weggies shaking like she was carrying the whole wide world on her back.
“TWACKA BET DEY ENF’D YEW GUD! TWACKA BET MUNSTAH WUVED IT!” the brutish mare dug deeper.
Tears rolled down your twashie fwend’s cheeks, she shivered while trying to maintain her composure before charging. She zipped past the tuffies and went straight for their leader and screamed a painful warcry as her pointie landed and hit its mark, right into Twacka’s non-miwkie see-pwace.
Immediately she threw herself off of you and began violently flailing in every direction.
“SEE-PWACE OWWIES! AM AWW DAWK! NU WIKE!” she cried as the still shaking Munstah pinned her down and gave the wowstest stompies to her chest.
“TAYK IT BACKSIE!” she screamed repeatedly with each stompie.
“NU…” was the only reply Twacka would give each time, while spitting out mouthfuls of booboo wawa until the final and wet sounded crunch.
When it was finally over, Twacka was silent, foweba sweepies… You didn’t even notice where the others had gone during the whole ordeal.
“WAN DIE!!!” ZeewoZeewoWun screamed as she ran back towards the tree and without a word you all followed behind as fast as you could.
Behind the tree was where ZeewoZeewoWun and Dummeh had quickly left Wan Die, you thought he would be safe alone, unnoticed… but you were wrong. Standing over your shivering friend and holding him in place was the pink stallion and the mare with the sharp broken pointie.
The mare faced you all down with her weapon pointed, deadly, ready to draw booboo wawa. And behind her was the pink stallion, he held his hoofsie hard on Wan Die’s head as he looked you all over with a panicked but enraged expression.
“Pwincie am nyu wead Twacka! Pwincie make da wuwes! Now gib Poopie ow widdle fwend hewe gon hab a pwobwem…” he hissed while rubbing his nu-nu stickie against Wan Die’s poopie pwace. The look of utter and complete terror on your shivering friend, held to the dirt, was as plain as the muzzle on your face.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” came bursting from ZeewoZeewoWun as she charged forward with reckless abandon. You all followed behind but she moved so much faster, like she was fired from a bangie stickie. And her screee sounded nothing like the kind you had heard or made before. It wasn’t made from fear, it was pure and unfiltered hatred.
She spun herself and gave the worstest sowwy poopies you had ever seen into the mare’s see-pwaces before rushing past and landing on the suprised stallion’s chest.
You, Dummeh and Munstah held the poopie blinded and screeeing mare down, taking extra special care not to get cut by her shawpie pointie as you watched in horror as ZeewoZeewoWun climbed on top of Pwincie and nummed the pwetty right off his face. and as she did, he screamed and screamed, peepeed and chirped before hyperventilating like she had sucked all the air from his lungs. Then when she was done and he was making gurgly noises, she turned around and… nummed his nu-nu stickie and speshew wumpsm, which made the screees come back even louder.
She tore into them like how a bawkie munstuh would to a caught bebbeh. She gnashed and growled angrily until there was nothing left but little stringy bits and endless amounts of chunky red.
When she was satisfied with his punishment she got up, covered in boo boo wawa and crawled up next to her shaking and chirping speshew fwend. Cooing and nuzzling into his neck.
The sight was so bad from what she had done that you and Dummeh had made sickie wawa all over the squirming mare below you and Munstah started making big scawdie poopies all over the gwassies.
The broken pink stallio- uhhh… mare? Then got up, shaking with what must have been the deepest fear of his- umm… her? life and ran as fast as… it could, leaving a long trail of boo boo wawa and scawdie poopies, just as Pwincie had left their fellow tuffie, trapped under your combined weight.
“wet shawpie gu! see-pwace hab da worstest stingy hewties! Nu smeww pwetty!” she cried, still struggling against your herd.
“nu! Stoopid dummeh mawe tew Poopie wewe am Pwincie goin?” you demanded while giving her a hoofsie to the milkie pwace.
“EEEK owwies! Nu huwt, nu huwt, Shawpie teww! SHAWPIE TEWW!”
She talked, and talked, and talked until the bwite sky baww came up and you had heard everything she had to say.
The trio were from the black pointie smawty’s herd, the herd that hurt Munstah, the herd that took your mummah and sissie away. the mare explained that they had all been offered extra nummies by the fatty mare’s herd, because she had claimed ownership to the skettie machine. she had been using the promise of sketties to entice neighbouring herds to try and find you and bring you back… for foweba sweepies.
You now had two large herds after you. You couldn’t possibly take one herd on, let alone two. You needed to find somewhere to run, somewhere to hide and very soon.
“oh poopies…” you thought to yourself. You were enf’d and you knew it.
-to be continued-
