It was about time that the rest of the fluffies I ordered arrived. Two females and three males. The females were one pastel yellow mare with a brown mane and a dark blue mare with a black mane with the occasional white hair. I really liked the latter one since the random streaks of white in her black mane made her look like the night sky. I named the pastel yellow one ‘Cream’ and the dark blue one ‘Nightshade’. Unfortunately, as pretty as Nightshade was, she was a bit of a smarty and had taken to bullying Pumpkin and Margaret because they were ‘munstahs’. It’s unfortunate, but it looks like her first day at Casa Invidia was going to be spent in a sorry box.
As for the boys, there was a wonderful brown colt with a red-orange mane with light orange streaks. His brown-ness didn’t remind me of poop like Poopy’s coat did. I already used the name ‘Pumpkin’ with one of the girls so I was stuck on what to name him. “Hmm, how about Ginger? Do you like that name?” I asked. Ginger nods enthusiastically but Poopy protested.
“Poopy pony’s coat am poopy too! Why onwy smawty cawed poopy? Nu faiw! Nu faiw!” Poopy cried. Gross tears and snot streamed down his face as he banged his hooves on the ground. He was “huu huu huu”ing, demanding that he shouldn’t be called Poopy or that Ginger should be called Poopy too. It was time to put a stop to it so I picked up a wooden block and tossed it just off to his side. Poopy jumped in surprise and just as he was going to start crying again, I interrupted him. “Try it and the next one won’t miss, Poopy.”
Poopy sobbed quietly after that.
The next stallion to be named was one with a dark gray coat with a black mane and white streaks. I really liked his color scheme a lot, even if most mothers would consider him a ‘poopy’ color. “Your name is going to be Storm Cloud,” I said. Storm Cloud was hiding behind his hooves, being shy. “Don’t be scared of daddy. Gimme a hug, okay?”
“D-daddeh gib huggies and wub?” Storm Cloud asked. I nodded and bent down to give the dark gray stallion a hug. “Stowm Cwoud wub daddeh,” he said, his voice incredibly soft.
My last boy was a blond-coated stallion with cream-colored ‘speckles’ and there was a large cream-colored diamond on his forehead. His mane was similarly cream-colored. He looked meatier than the other fluffies, except for his hind legs which were underdeveloped. This essentially made him a huggy fluffy and he had to drag his backside along the ground to approach me. I was having trouble thinking of a name for him since I used up all the good names on the other ponies. I considered Crystal, but with Lavender and Ginger, that would be three of my boys with feminine names. I went down the list of gem names but most of them were feminine-sounding. “Hmm… Bort? That’s a kind of precious stone, and it’s related to Diamond too. So I’ll call you Bort.”
“Okay, Storm Cloud, I’m leaving you in charge. If Poopy calls himself a smarty, then give him a sorry hoofsie on the nose, okay? You’re the leader here so I trust you. I put some extra kibble in the bowl so everyone can have some,” I instruct. Storm Cloud was still hiding behind his hooves, though.
“Stowm Cwoud no wanna be smawty fwiend… Why not dat fwuffy? Dat fwuffy am hab nice cowow…” Storm Cloud says, pointing to Lavender.
“Hmm, Lavender huh? Sorry, Storm Cloud, but you have the nicest color here, so you’re the leader. You gotta make sure Poopy doesn’t push anyone around, okay?” I reassure him, stroking his mane.
I close the door behind me and pick up Nightshade’s sorry box that I left just outside the room. The box was a little black box marked with air holes. It was small enough that Nightshade had to curl up just to fit inside and some of the breathing holes got covered by her fur. I flipped the box upside down, causing the smarty mare within to protest.
“Nightshade nu do anyfing wong! Onwy pwotect new fwiend from munstah fwuffies! Nu faiw! Wet Nightshade out of sowwy box!” Nightshade proclaimed in a teeny voice. She sure was pretty, but calling Margaret and Pumpkin monsters just because of their deformities was a bitch move. I let her know that calling other ponies ‘munstah’ wasn’t okay and took her box to my room.
The next day, I awoke to the stench of shit and piss. Brown sludge leaked out of the sorry box and Nightshade was sobbing. “Huu huu huu! Nightshade nu smeww pwetty… Nightshade am sowwy… No mow caww fwuffy fwiends munstah huu huu huu!” By how loud her sobbing was, she was crying for a while and I totally slept through it. I picked up the sorry box and put it down in the back yard, then returned to my room to clean up the sludge that was definitely Nightshade’s excrement.
Now that my room was clean, it was time to deal with Nightshade. I opened up her box and it absolutely reeked. Even with the breathing holes, it seems that the box had kept in most of the smells. I hosed Nightshade down, still inside the box and brown water leaked out the bottom and seeped into the grass. Only once the water came out clean did I pull Nightshade out of the sorry box.
“Huu huu huu! Wa wa is so cowd no good fow Nightshade huu huu huu!” Nightshade cried as I continued to hose her down. Next was washing her with some Fluffco brand Shampoo and I massaged it into her coat until she was absolutely covered in bubbles. The bubbles distracted Nightshade enough that she was no longer a weeping mess and tried to play with the bubbles that floated off her.
“This is to make you smell pretty again. Promise to daddy that you won’t call Margaret and Pumpkin monsters anymore, okay? You have to be nice to everyone,” I said, but Nightshade was still distracted by the bubbles. I hosed her down so she would listen, but all I got was “Cowdies! No wike wa wa!” I kept hosing her down until she agreed to my terms.
I dried Nightshade with a hair dryer before carrying her back to the other mares. I made her apologize to Margaret and Pumpkin, who were willing to make friends with her again. Well, as much as Margaret could agree to be friends anyway.
I refilled the kibble trough and emptied the litter box. I’m a little surprised that there were no ‘accidents’, but I guess the breeders I ordered them from also potty trained them. I’m especially impressed that Margaret was potty trained since she seemed to have a lot of trouble processing things.
It was time to check on the boys then.
I was disappointed to find out that there were two giant turds in the middle of the room. I shout-asked who did it and Poopy was quick to point the finger-err hoof. “Bowt did a bad poopy! Bowt am bad fwuffy! Huggy fuffies no good! Dey nu can go to wittew box when dey make poopies!”
I immediately called for Storm Cloud and took him out of the room. I asked him privately who did the bad poopies and he told me his side of the story.
“Poopy did the bad poopies! Pwease no punish Bowt! Poopy is bad smawty. Poopy twied to eat aww of the kibbews den gabe Stowm Cwoud sowwy poopies when Stowm Cwoud twied to stop Poopy,” Storm Cloud tattled. “Stowm Cwoud twied to giv Poopy sowwy hoofsies but Stowm Cwoud scawed… Poopy is mean fwuffy…”
So that’s the story. Well, it looks like I know who’s getting experimented on first. I told Poopy that Storm Cloud told me everything that happened and Poopy gave Storm Cloud the stink-eye. Storm Cloud could only hide behind his hooves. I really needed to get Storm Cloud more confident, so Poopy couldn’t push him around.
“As for you, I’m taking you to the medical room.” I cleaned up Poopy’s bad poopies first before picking him up by the scruff of his neck.
“Nuuuu! Bad upsies! Smawty am sowwy!” I pinched him hard in the nose as I put him on a cold table in the medical room.