A long, long time ago, when the idea of a Biotoy was still science fiction, lots of small towns were looking to expand. The easiest and cheapest way to do this was with cookie cutter suburbs, entire neighborhoods built all at once by the same developers. The houses were boring, with the same layouts and colors, but they were cheap and perfect for young couples dreaming of expanding their families. It didn’t matter that you had the same house as everyone else on the block and the HOA fees were more than some people’s rent, your home was an investment. Something that would be worth ten times what you bought it for when it was time for those kids to move out and go to college. It was a different time, you see.
When Cleveland fell, the economy fell with it. Farms were ravaged and so the cost of food went up. Cities were forced to choose between dealing with fluffy infestations and feeding their populations and, for fear of ending up like Cleveland, many chose the former. Smaller towns suffered more, suddenly with the cost of living so high and so many people struggling to make ends meet the cheap housing projects out in the middle of nowhere didn’t seem like such a good investment. Many were finished, but lay empty for years and years before the company that owned them went under, others stopped construction halfway through, leaving timber built skeletons along winding streets. Farmland had been sold for these sorts of housing developments and, as it was torn up and paved over, was left untouched until someone could find some worth in the hard packed earth.
And nature abhors a vacuum.
Down one of these streets - Maple Street, all the streets were to be named after trees to create a sense of community among them - a fluffy herd took up residence. There was nothing abnormal about them, just a flock of wayward ferals that found the half finished homes to be ideal protection from the elements. One of many, in fact, as each street ended in a similar culture de sac it attracted a similar infestation.
Smarty Puddles looked up to the sky, watching a strange bird go by. It was the first time he’s seen something like it, a bird that didn’t flap its wings as it went.
“Shouwd teww hewd tu hide?” his second in command, a tan pegasus stallion named Root asked.
“Hm… nu,” the blue unicorn replied “bu’ bwing hewd bak to housie, nu wike weiwd biwdy.”
“Otay, Smawty.” Root turned to start spreading the word among the toughies. Puddles’ herd was large, far more than he could count at 40 adults and their foals. With the recent disappearance of his special friend Pebble he kept his herd close, surrounded on all sides by a guard of toughies. He didn’t know what happened to her, but every feral knew just how unforgiving the world could be. He held no hope of her returning.
As the streetlights flicked on, one by one, the last few members of the herd made their way inside. Smarty Puddles stood from his spot on the porch and went inside to meet his toughies for their usual evening meeting. Unlike lots of smarties, Puddles was actually smart for a fluffy. He kept his herd on a tight schedule, and far from human intervention. These sorts of herds were the bothersome ones, many people only knew of the sort of smarties that would start trying to bust down doors and claim entire supermarkets as their own territory. Much like the humans they share DNA with, fluffies have a wide range of intelligence among individuals. Intelligence is self selecting, the particularly stupid members of the species get flattened by a boot while the smarter watch and learn from their mistakes. That’s not to say that the average fluffy is smart, but that this is a sort of vermin that can’t be dealt with like rats or insects. Fluffies learn quickly, and remember well. Poisons only work if they’re eaten by the entire herd at once, easily solved by having someone test the food first. Traps can be avoided or disengaged once the population learns what they look like. Culling by hand is messy and loud, which often just displaces a herd and makes them someone else’s problem. With good enough leadership, a herd of fluffies can be more or less immune to any attempt to exterminate them.
Disrupt the herd structure, however, and that all goes out the window.
Puddles and his toughies sat under a forgotten utility light hanging from one of the rafters, discussing the problems of the herd. This was a nightly occurrence, where they would discuss the events of the day and the needs of the herd. Usually an uneventful and boring task.
“Nu enuff nummies in piwe!” Lilac, a pale purple pegasus said.
“Taek fwuffies when bwite time, gu find.” Smarty Puddles replied.
“Buh wha’ about weiwd biwdy?” Root asked. “Wha’ if munstah?”
“It jus’ biwdy. Nu huwt-” Puddles was cut off by the house being plunged suddenly into darkness.
All across the house fluffies screamed, running in random directions to try to escape the darkness no matter who was in their way. Smarty Puddles started yelling as well, attempting to gain some sort of control but simply added to the din. After a few loud moments the lights flickered back on.
“Wha’ happen?!” Root asked, scampering up to hide behind his smarty.
“Nu knu. Am hewd otay?” He called out. In reply there was the wail of a mare, and he ran off to find her with his toughies close behind.
An orange mare sat in the middle of what would have one day been a bedroom, holding the limp forms of two foals in her arms. The other mares were gathered around her, sniffling and whispering among each other, the word “Munstah” echoing between them. Puddles shoved his way through the crowd. “Wha’ happen?”
“Munstah!” The mare wailed. “Munstah gib wowst hoofsies to babbehs!!”
“Wet Smawty see babbehs.” He ordered, and slowly the mare held out the forms of her foals.
They were still oozing blood, but were trampled quite flat. Puddles looked over their corpses as the mare sobbed, then gave a small nod.
“Dewe am nu munstah.” He stated calmly.
“Buh babbehs-!”
He cut her off. “Wewe stompied when mummahs aww wun ‘wound wike dummehs.”
The mares gasped. “Den… den mummah huwt own babbehs??” One asked.
“Mh-hm. Be mowe cawefuw wif babbehs.” Puddles said, turning to leave. The mare behind him started wailing again, louder, and the toughies followed closely behind him.
“Am… am Smawty suwe nu munstah?” Lilac asked.
“Yu nu twust Smawty?” He paused in the hallway to look the pegasus in the eyes.
“Nu, twust Smawty!” he yelped.
“Den shaddup.” Puddles growled. He looked over his toughies in silence, daring any of them to challenge him. When none did, he continued. “Go check on uddah fwuffies, den go sweepies. Smawty keep watch.”
Puddles made his way back onto the unfinished porch and settled in for the night. The streetlights poured large patches of orange light onto the pavement, something that made this area ideal for his herd. He could see for quite a ways, plenty of time to assess a threat and figure out what to do about it. Things like other fluffies could be fought or bargained with, basically anything else meant scattering the herd among the other abandoned houses. Not a fun thing to do, fluffies would panic and run off and there was a chance he wouldn’t get all of them back, but better than losing the entire herd.
His head felt heavy, it had been a long day. He was starting to regret keeping watch when the streetlights all flicked off at once. He lifted his head, hearing the screams of his herd again from inside and squinted into the darkness. He didn’t know of any monster that could steal light like this, but he knew better than to assume that there were no monsters. A life on the street taught him there were always monsters. Always something waiting to take advantage of a fluffy in peril. The lights weren’t something he thought a monster could control, but they would take advantage of the cover of darkness to eat his herd members. Getting to his hooves once again he trotted inside to deal with the panicking fluffies.
“EBWEBODY SHADDUP AN’ CUM INTO MAIN WOOM!” he shouted over and over, until the terrified screams died down and his toughies started herding the fluffies into what would be the living room.
Root scurried up next to him as the fluffies huddled together in the middle of the room. “Smawty, sum fwuffy missin’, Woot tink-”
“Dewe am nu munstah!” Smarty Puddles called, cutting him off. “Nu munstah maek dawkies. Fwuffies sweep in big fwuffpiwe dis dawk time, make suwe nu fwuffy du anyting dummeh.”
“Buh-buh-buh babbehs!” The orange mare cried, still holding her trampled foals.
“Yu stompied on dem. Dat wha’ Smawty mean, Dummeh.” Puddles replied coldly.
“An’ missing fwends!” Root chimed in.
“Wun off when dawkies!” Puddles said, turning to glare at Root. “Dewe am nu munstah.”
Through the darkness a soft sobbing could be heard. The fluffies fell silent and strained their ears to pick out it’s location.
“Woot, cum wif Smawty, gun’ fin’ wost fwend.” Puddles turned away without waiting for an answer and marched out the front door, leaving his terrified herd behind him as he listened for the sobbing.
Down the road, in the dim moonlight, he could just make out the form of a fluffy stumbling down the road. “Who am yu??” He called.
“Am Pebbwe!” The fluffy cried back.
“Pebbwe?! Spechow fwend?!” Puddles ran to meet her, all thought of monsters vanishing at the sight of his missing special friend.
They met under one of the now dark street lights, wrapping each other up in a tight hug. Even in the dark he knew her, her soft fluff, long mane, delicate wings.
“Smawty thot spechow fwend wost foebah!” He said.
“Pebbwe tuu. Munstah taek, gib huwties.” She said, her voice muffled by his shoulder fluff.
“Am Pebbwe??” Root called from the porch.
“Yus! Spechow fwend baksies!” As he unwrapped himself from her, the streetlights turned back on, illuminating her glistening silver fluff. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, the soft dappling dark spots running down her sides, her dimpled smile, the way the light shone off the tip of her long horn.
“MUNSTAH!!!” Root cried.
Puddles looked around wildly for a moment. “WHEWE?!”
“MUNSTAH WOOK WIKE PEBBWE!!” SMAWTY WUN!!”
Puddles turned to his special friend, confused. He didn’t remember her having a horn… and that would make her a monster… but this was his special friend!
“Nu am munstah!” Pebble retorted, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Am fwuffy! Am fwend!”
“When hab pointy?” Puddles asked, tapping it with his hoof.
“…nu knu…” she touched it herself, just outside of her vision but clearly there. “Buh nu am munstah!”
“Nu am munstah.” Puddles reassured. “Spechow fwend am spechow fwend.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek then pulled her to her hooves. “Sumting guin’ on, Smawty nu wike it. Nee’ gu inside.”
Pebble nodded and followed him back to the house. Root watched them approach for a moment, then turned and ran inside. The smarty squinted as he disappeared into the doorway, not liking the look in his eyes.
“-an munstah wook jus’ wike Pebbwe!” Root cried from atop a small pile of scrap wood to the assembled fluffies below. “Munstah am weaw! Munstah wook wike fwends!”
“Dewe am nu munstah!!” Puddles snarled, stomping up to him. “Yu am scawdy dummeh, dat am WEAW Pebbwe!” You turned to seen your toughies surrounding her, cheeks puffed but legs trembling. “Yu aww dummehs! Wisten tu Smawty!”
“Nu wan wose mowe babbehs!” One of the mares shouted, and the rabble vocally agreed with her The toughies started closing in on Pebble, backing the mare up against the wall.
Puddles shoved past his toughies, taking a protective stance in front of his special friend. “Wisten. Tu. Smawty.” He growled.
“Smawty, dat nu am spechow fwend. Am munstah.” Root said.
“Nu am, dummeh!” Puddles snapped back. “Nu knu wai hab pointy, buh dat AM spechow fwend!”
“Wha’ if Smawty am munstah too!” A fluffy yelled.
“YU A DUMMEH TU!” Puddles roared over his toughies shoulders. “DEWE AM NU MUNSTAHS!”
At that moment the lights flicked off again and the herd descended into chaos. Every fluffy assumed the dark form next to them was a monster, regardless of if it looked like a friend, family member or foal. The smarty was quickly overwhelmed by his amassed toughies, their blows raining down on him and each other equally.
In the span of about an hour, one of the most well structured herds observed to date was no more, the majority of its members embroiled in combat with each other or sprinting aimlessly into the night.
“Enlightening.” A human watched on the screen as fluffies turned on each other indiscriminately. “And this works every time?”
“We need to do more testing, but it looks really promising.” Another replied. “There’s a few more on the block we can try before we start using our control groups.”
“Amazing that turning the lights off does so much to them.”
“Fluffies need consistency and routine. Anything that disrupts that sends them into chaos. From there it shouldn’t be hard to deal with the stragglers. Adding a ‘monster’ to the herd is a very efficient fuse to light as well.”
“Alright, get this herd cleaned up and start setting up for the rest. We don’t need the controls if it works. I want this development purged entirely.”