Dave hated FluffTV. It was like someone had taken children’s TV shows and dumbed them down even more, and then they’d tossed in advertisements aimed at fluffies as an extra insult. Man, if you thought regular commercials were bad? FluffTV commercials were way, way worse.
But Hazel, his light brown unicorn, LOVED FluffTV. Dave had made the mistake of letting her see it so that he could have some time alone, but Hazel didn’t want to watch it alone. She wanted to watch it with daddy! Always with daddy. Now not only was he not getting as much alone time as he wanted, but he was also being forced to sit through a whole bunch of dumb shit just to make Hazel happy.
“Hazew wuv Fwuff Teebee,” the fluffy said as she sprawled out next to Dave on the couch. She was lying against his leg, and he was absently running his fingers through her green mane. Hazel cooed in appreciation. “Fank yu fo Fwuff Teebee an wuvs, daddeh.”
“Sure, yeah, you’re welcome.” It was like having a cat that talked back to you. But her fluff really was soft, and petting her was kind of soothing. It helped him tune out so that he could avoid focusing on the stupid fluffy TV shows. Most of the commercials, too.
Except the one that was just coming on.
“Oh, fuck,” he muttered as he heard the opening notes. Hazel, however, perked up. She hopped up on her hooves and started spinning around in circles.
“MUMMAH SONG, DADDEH! MUMMAH SONG! MUMMAH SONG!”
===
“MUMMAHS!” shouted the neon pink pegasus mare on the screen, her lemon yellow mane poofier than most. “MUMMAHS WAN BE BESTEST MUMMAHS EVAH? HAF BESTEST BABBEHS EVAH? DEN MUMMAHS NEE SING TO BABBEHS. MUMMAHS HAF TO SING MUMMAH SONGS!”
“But Candy,” asked a very serious-sounding man in a suit. “What if fluffy mummahs aren’t feeling very creative with their mummah songs?”
“OHHHHHH NUUUUUUUU!” squealed the fluffy in mock horror. “MUMMAHS NU FEEWIN CWEATIF? THINKIE-PWACE NUUUUUU HEWPIN’ MUMMAH? DEWE AM ONWY WUN SOWUHHH…SUHHHH…” She paused, unable to get the word out. “Jesus Chwist,” she muttered under her breath, barely audible.
“You’re right, Candy,” the man picked up without missing a beat. “There’s only one solution! The Mummah Songs Collection!”
An animated banner spread across the screen:
FLUFFTV’S MUMMAH SONGS COLLECTION!
“DAS WIGHT, NICE MISTAH!” shouted Candy enthusiastically, trying to get past her dialogue fuckup. “OHHHHH DEM MUMMAH SONGS! FWUFF TEEBEE HAF AWW DA MUMMAH SONGS ANY MUMMAH EVAH GON NEED, AWW HEWE IN ONE COWN…COWN-VEEEN…” She pushed her snout into her chest fluff and mumbled to herself. “Fuck dis.”
“Right, in one convenient collection!” said the man in the suit. “Over A HUNDRED mummah songs, all on two convenient CDs! Or buy on our website and download them as MP3s! Get the bestest mummah songs ever! You get classics like these.”
A white and pink earthie filly started singing to an assortment of gathered foals:
“Mummah wuv babbehs, babbehs wuv mummah. Babbehs dwink miwkies, gwow up big an stwong.”
The scene changed to the same filly singing another song:
“Gud babbehs make poopies in da wittahbox, mummah gif gud babbehs huggies an’ wuv, bad poopies nu smeww pwetty on daddeh fwoow, so best babbehs make poopies in da box.”
“But wait!” the man in the suit said. “You don’t just want the classics. You want some newer mummah songs, things your fluffy hasn’t ever heard before. Like this!”
The scene changed back to the same filly, singing to another group of foals:
“Mummah waise babbehs be bestest of aww, mummah gif babbehs huggies an wuv, babbehs be bestest su dey can haf daddehs, daddehs gif housie, sketties an’ wuv.”
Then the filly, singing to the same group of foals:
“Aww babbehs gud, aww babbehs bestest, even poopie babbehs, bwown an’ gween, fwuffies wit hown and wingies nu am munstahs, mummahs wuv aww babbehs, aww babbehs gud.”
“Some songs are better than other songs,” the man in the suit said. “But you…”
“Aww mummah songs am gud songs,” Candy insisted.
“But some of them don’t make as much sense as others, which is okay, because we’ve inclu…”
“NU,” Candy insisted, stamping her little hooves on the floor. “Aww mummah songs am GUD MUMMAH SONGS!”
“You heard Candy!” the man laughed, but he threw her a glance which said that this was absolutely not part of the script, and that Candy was going to get the shit kicked out of her after the cameras were off. “Here are some more GREAT mummah songs you’ll get with the collection!”
This time the scene cut to a pale yellow pegasus with a light red mane. It was running around in circles, its “singing” more like screaming. It was running around a plate of spaghetti, just screaming over and over:
“SKETTIS SKETTIS SKETTIS, SKETTIS SKETTIS SKETTIS! NUM DEM SKETTIS, NUM DEM SKETTIS! BABBEHS BE GUD, DADDEH GIF SKETTIS! SKETTIS SKETTIS SKETTIS SWEE JESUS CHWIST SKETTIS PWEASE WET NUM SKETTIS NAO SKETTIS SKETTIS SKETTIS SKETTIS MIWKIES AM BESTEST WHEN NUM SKETTIES DADDEH PWEASE SKETTIS!”
Another mare, a purple pegasus with a light blue mane, looking oddly regretful and on the verge of tears, singing to three sobbing foals:
“Nu num babbehs, babbehs nu am nummies, babbehs am onwy fo huggies an wuv, if fwuffy num babbehs daddeh gif huwties, wowstest huwties evah cuz mummah am wowst.”
“So order now!” said the man in the suit. “Only $9.95 plus $4.95 shipping and handling. You can download the MP3s on the FluffTV website, but then you won’t get the extra-special bonus gift - a FluffTV stuffy friend!” He held up a small, shoddily-made stuffed rabbit that had the FluffTV logo on its chest. “Call or go to our website now!”
The number and the website address popped up on the screen while the classic mummah song played in the background. After a few seconds the picture started to fade to black, and the man in the suit stalked toward a terrified-looking Candy.
===
Man, that shit is absolutely bleak, Dave thought to himself. I can’t even imagine…
Hazel hopped on his lap, interrupting his thoughts. She reared up and propped her front hooves on his chest, giggling. “Hazew wan babbehs,” she insisted. “Daddeh pwease wet Hazew haf babbehs, wet Hazew sing mummah songs!”
“Oh fuck no, absolutely not. No way.”
“Buh daddeh, Hazew be bestest mummah evah, gif bestest miwkies an huggies an wuv to babbehs so babbehs gwow up big an’ stwong, be bestest babbehs evah!”
“I’ve said no a million times, Hazel. You have to stop asking me.”
“Buh DADDEH! Hazew wiww sing da BESTEST mummah songs!”
“Oh HELL no.” He reached down and lifted her up, setting her on the couch beside him. “Now calm down and watch FluffTV or you won’t be getting any sketti tonight.”
“Nu…nu skettis, daddeh? Why daddeh nu wuv Hazew? Hazew am bad fwuffy?” Tears were dripping down her cheeks.
“I love you, but you have to stop asking for babies, okay? Will you stop?”
“Hazew wiww stop. Sowwy, daddeh.” She took up her spot beside him on the couch again. “Hazew wiww be gud fwuffy. Watch Fwuff Teebee.”
“Good.”
“NEXT UP,” the announcer cheerfully said in his game show host voice. “EVERY FLUFFY’S FAVORITE SHOW - BABIES!”
“BABBEHS!” Hazel shouted. “DADDEH! AM BABBEHS!”
GODDAMMIT.
