The Fluffy Races
Seabiscuit sniffled back some tears as she held tight to her last babbeh, a pretty little pink unicorn filly who’s mane and tail fluff hadn’t even started coming in. The rest of her foals were taken from her earlier, and her meanie daddeh had promised to give them back if she won a race. She had cried and begged for them back, even stating the fact they’d need milkies! Then her meanie daddeh used a meanie suckie machine on her tears, draining every last drop from her, only giving her enough yucky kibble to make enough milkies for her last babbeh for two feedings.
All around her were mares in similar situations, each one held in a small, narrow pen with their last babbeh, either because the rest died or had been taken from them. Some of the mares were no-daddeh fluffies, taken from alleys, while others had owners like Seabiscuit, who had specifically raised them for just this purpose. There was a loud clang as the heavy metal door in the dimly lit room creaked open, and in stepped a couple of strangely dressed hoomins, one carrying a box and the other with a clipboard. They slowly worked down the line of mares, the one with the board reaching into the pens and plucking out the foals, who either peeped and chirped in protest, or verbally spoke their dislike at being taken away from their mummah before they were set carefully into the box.
The hoomins came up to Seabiscuit’s pen, the light blue-grey mare with a cobalt mane shifting to try and block their access to her babbeh.
“Pwease nice mistahs, nu take wastest babbeh. Babbeh tu widdwe, nee mummah fo’ wub an miwkies!” she begged, only to be nudged aside as her tears finally flowed freely, watching as her last babbeh was taken, chirping and calling out for her with her limited vocabulary, and placed into the box, the board hoomin putting a little black stick to said board and wiggling the stick around.
Seabiscuit threw herself to the ground and cried her little lungs out, not noticing as the last of the foals were gathered or the hoomins leaving. As far as Seabiscuit knew, she was a mummah no more, and her heart was all but broken. After a bit more time, a little door slid up in front of the distraught mare, and then came a sound from just beyond it outside.
“Peep! Mummah, hewp! Chiiiiiiiirp!” came the filly’s cries once again, and Seabiscuit surged forward out into the bright light of the sky ball, desperate to reunite with her last babbeh. She raced forward, only to smack face first into a little double door in yet another narrow pen. As soon as her tail cleared the slat, it slammed back down, trapping her facing forward towards the double doors.
“Babbeh, mummah hewe! Whewe babbeh?!” she cried out, looking all around on the ground in front of her, ignoring the owwies and the scent of boo boo juice in her smell place. She whipped her head around frantically, until a small peep from above drew her attention upwards. There was her babbeh, strapped into a strange little harness too high for Seabiscuit to reach and much too high for a little unicorn like her to be!
“Huuhuu, pwease nu fwy, pointy babbeh, ou nu hab wingies! Mummah nu can weach ou!” the mare begged, and then a voice came from all around!
“Llladies and gentlemen, welcome to the fifth annual Fluffy Races! We have a total of eight racers today, and we’re sure to see just how fast a fluffy can go when given the right incentive! Place your final bets now, cause the show is about to start!”
“Huu, pwease nice voice wady, hewp Seabiscuit weach wastest babbeh!” she begged some more, and then came the first beep. Her daddeh had told her this meant the race was going to start soon, and had trained Seabiscuit rigorously that this meant she had to be ready to run. But she couldn’t run now, her babbeh was right there above her! Wait, why was she flying away? The second beep came, and Seabiscuit saw that all the babbehs had moved to be about two fluffy lengths away from the mummahs. She did the only thing she could do, and she braced herself to run.
There was a loud horn and the little double doors flew open with a clack, and Seabiscuit sprinted forward as fast as she could, trying to reach her babbeh. But as soon as she started running, the babbehs whizzed away in a cacophony of distressed chirps and “SCREEEEE, HEWP BABBEEeeeeeh!” Seabiscuit kept on running as fast as she could, practically galloping like a real horse after her little filly. Only two other mares were matching her speed, the others either having stopped and simply crying for the babbehs or too slow to keep up.
“Aaaaaand, they’re off! A strong start from Seabiscuit, Princess, and Red Rum, leaving the rest of the pack in their dust! Red Rum is taking the lead now, with Seabiscuit and Princess right behind her! Princess is gaining, trying to overtake the leader with all her might! It’s neck and neck as we get to the turn, and with a surge of speed, Princess has taken the lead! Seabiscuit is closing the distance between her and the two other leaders and - OOOOH, PRINCESS IS DOWN! Looks like she tripped over her own mane! It does not look like she’s getting back up from that one, folks! It’s just Seabiscuit and Red Rum now, the two neck and neck as we get closer to the finish line! It looks like it will come down to a photo finish here at the end, but what’s this? Seabiscuit is putting in her all and taking a solid lead! Red Rum is right on her tail, but just can’t keep up! Seems she burned all her steam at the beginning! Aaaaaand it’s Seabiscuit for the win, folks!”
Seabiscuit could hear her heart in her ears as she flopped down after the checkered line, hearing a loud smack from her left. She watched from the corner of her eye as Red Rum slammed head first into the wall with a sickening crunch, the wine red mare forgetting in her haste to slow down, before her body slumped to the floor. Seabiscuit could tell from here that she had gone forever sleepies, her neck twisted at an odd angle for a fluffy. The exhausted mare panted loudly, looking up for her little filly as the soft patter of hooves came closer from behind, along with cries from the other mares.
Her daddeh bent down over the edge of the fencing that had kept her confined into her own lane, lifting her up and carrying her back to a small barn, the inside of which had been converted to house fluffies in its small animal pens. She was set down into the hay inside one of these pens, where a hanging water bottle and bowl of sketties waited. Forgetting her last babbeh for a minute, she drained the bottle as quick as she could and had her fill of her hard earned treat before she flopped onto her side. It wasn’t until a pile of hay rustled that she remembered her babbeh, and she forced herself up on wobbly legs over to the pile, nosing through it before she revealed her little pink filly, along with the rest of her babbehs in a small fluff pile. With a happy smile, she flopped down and passed out, not waking again until she was already back in her safe room.