((it feels short, but there is more. im just saving it for later 
you can also find visuals for some of the characters here))
Matt still wasn’t used to the park.
The grass poked his hoofsies and the ground sometimes lied to him about being flat. There were always lots of other fluffies around but none of them looked like him. And he could never quite tell how big they were or how far away they were or whether he’d be able to beat them in a fight if he had to. Fortunately, most of them made scaredy-poopies or ran crying to their mommies when they saw him coming. But every so often, one puffed their cheeks and stomped their hooves and ordered him to leave or they’d give him the sorriest of hoofsies.
Matt always chose to leave. He’d had enough hoofsies to last a lifetime.
One time at the park, Matt spotted a mare with three leggies and two babies. The babies were big enough to explore without her help and they kept running circles around their poor mother.
“Wub pway! Wub taggies!”
“Gonna getchu! Tee hee!”
“Stay whewe mummah can see 'ou, babbehs!”
Matt hadn’t noticed himself moving closer until it was too late.
“SCREEEEEEEEE!!! MUNSTAH!!!”
“MUMMAAHH!!! SABE BABBEH!!”
“Babbehs come tu mummah wite now!” The mare shielded her babies from Matt’s horrible, awful, terrifying face and started screaming her head off for her owner, “MUM-MEE HEWP FWUFFIEEES!!”
Matt will admit that he pooped himself a little.
“Aww, I’m sorry buddy. You’ll find someone nice to play with next time,” Matt’s daddy was sympathetic. He was always sympathetic.
“It am otay, daddeh. Madd dun mind.”
“If you’re sure, bud.”
Matt convinced himself it didn’t bother him. He preferred to stay by his daddeh anyway. His daddeh liked him, and other fluffies didn’t. Matt decided that he didn’t like other fluffies either.
A few days later, Matt came upon a couple of young stallions yelling at some shrubbery, “Ugwy poopie! Dis am smawty wand!”
“Yeah! Dummeh stinky babbehs nu awwowed in pwetty pawk!”
A small, defiant voice said, “Fwuffy nu am in pawk, am in bushies.”
The stallions stood for a second, aghast at the bush’s nerve to talk to a real Smarty like that.
“DUMMEH!” The smarty stallion shouted and struck the bush with one hoof, “'Ou fink yu am su smawty? ‘Ou jus’ dummeh poopie ugwy babbeh wif nu mummah ow daddeh! Aww awone cause 'ou ugwy poopie dummeh! Nubudy wub 'ou!”
“Hehe Dummeh poopie nu-mummah babbeh nu desewbe wub! Onwy desewbe num poopies an’ get owwies!”
The voice was entirely unconcerned, “Nu cawe. Big fwuffy nu get babbeh. Am nappie hewe.”
“WAI 'OU WIDDLE–” The smarty stallion dove headlong into the bush while his toughie friend seethed and stomped. There was the sound of twigs snapping, and then a moment of rustling, and finally a triumphant “GATCHU!”
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
Matt was dumbfounded to see the smarty drag a shrieking brown filly out of the bush by one wing. Matt was almost sure that babies came out of mummahs, not bushes, but he’d been wrong about these things before. The toughie reared up and kicked the filly in her little head and the sound of her scream turned warbly,
“HUUUUUuuuuuUUUUU!!!”
“SHADDAP!!” The smarty stallion stuck his ass in her face while his toughie held her down, “Poopie babbeh am awmost poopie mawe, num poopies wike poopie mawe! Gib bestes’ smawty wicky-cweanies an’ gud feews wike poopie mawe!” The smarty’s poopies were just starting to dribble out when the filly lunged forward and caught his special lumps in her teeth. Owie-poopies exploded across the filly’s face and the smarty’s scream flooded Matt’s body with horrible, horrible memories.
“AAAIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
Matt’s hooves were pounding against the ground, before he knew what was happening he slammed into the still-shrieking smarty and sent them both flying. There was an awful snapping sound and Matt’s blood went cold. He whipped his head around and saw the filly spitting out a wad of fluff, trying to wipe the poopies off her face, and his heartbeat resumed. If Matt had started this whole fight only for the filly’s neck to end up snapped, he’d never be able to forgive himself. The toughie on the other hand was booking it back to his owner, leaving his own trail of shit and tears behind, “Sowwy smawty fwen! Tuu scawy! Huu huu Nu wan wose wumps!”
“HUUUUU!!! Speshow wuuuuumps! Am stawwion nu mowe! WAAAAAAAH!!” Even bruised and beaten by a pale, one-eyed monster and abandoned by his friend, his missing lumps were the only thing the smarty seemed to care about.
Matt had heard many a stallion-no-more say the same thing, almost word-for-word. If you lost too many fights the monster humans would cut off your lumps and your leggies and turn you into an enfie mare for everyone else to use. Matt felt his stomach turn, gurgling and grumbling and guilty guilty guilty. He held his hoof over the smarty’s head like a guillotine,
“‘Ou am stawwion nu mowe, an’ yu am smawty nu mowe tuu. Dis nu am smawty wand! Dis am pawk!” Matt kicked the disgraced smarty in the face; there was a yelp and a thud and he tumbled a few feet away. He didn’t even get up. He just laid there in a ball, crying over his lumps. Matt rushed over to the filly to find her furiously rubbing her face on the grass, but clearly running out of steam.
“Huuuuuuuuuu… Hnnnnnnngg…”
“Babbeh! Babbeh pwease stahp, am otay nao! Meanie fwuffies gone!”
But the filly ignored him. She continued scraping her head on the ground until she collapsed, twitching weirdly. Her little chest went up and down, up and down, up and down.
Matt nudged the filly with his nose, “Babbeh?”
No response.
“Babbeh??” He nudged her harder. Her leggie kicked once, but that was it. “Huuu nu know wha tu duuuuu…” Matt shifted nervously from hoof to hoof and looked around for a mummah or a daddeh or another fluffy or literally anyone who could help. Anyone who wouldn’t run screaming for the hills when they saw him.
Daddy. Daddy will know what to do.
“Nu wowwy babbeh! Daddeh wiww hewp babbeh!” Matt picked the filly up in his mouth and her limp little leggies filled him with a deep, creeping dread. He moved as fast as he dared, knowing his front teeth were pointy and his hooves were unsteady, so he concentrated hard and centered himself on her tiny, rapid heartbeat against his tongue.
((as soon as i finish 1 part of a project, 6 ideas for new ones beam themselves directly into my brain. it’s almost like they KNOW i have the self-control of a gnat akshdoksvsjjdvx))
