Sarah had been having some issues in her house lately. Food and small objects had been disappearing from her house over the last week. At first she thought it was her blue heeler, Bosco. That thought went out the widow after some chocolate snack cakes had gone missing, and the emergency vet visit confirmed there was no chocolate in his system. So she did what any sensible American would do in this situation, grab her 9mm and start sweeping the house.
Whoever was in her home hadn’t alerted Bosco, so they probably only came out at night when he was sleeping in his own room upstairs. She made sure her neighbors knew to listen for gunshots just in case the worst has happened. Her one older neighbor, Brandon Crier, agreed to watch the outside of the house of runners. Bosco would be sitting in the backyard to alert them if someone went out the back door.
After sweeping most of the house, starting with the attic and working her way down, she found nothing. Then, in the silence, she heard chirping. It was coming from the crawl space on the first floor. Before she made it to the door to the crawlspace, she heard a cabinet door open and shut. She turned around to see a dark green pegasus with a brown mane staring at her. “Of course it was fucking fluffies,” she mumbles under her breath.
The pegasus just stares at her, no begging or pleading. “Well aren’t you going to say something?” The pegasus shakes its head. Sarah just walks over and picks up the fluffy by the scruff of its neck. On closer inspection, she identified the fluffy as a mare who was currently lactating. She also saw that the fluffy had damage to its throat, making it mute. “So are those foals I hear yours.” The mare nods. “Well they can’t stay in my walls. You don’t have my permission to be here and I have half a mind to feed you to my dog.” The mare’s eyes grow wide. “But I might inclined not to do that depending on how bad you messed up my crawl space.”
The mare was quickly placed in the bathtub in the first floor bathroom to keep he from getting into trouble. Sarah then made her way to the crawl space door at the back of her broom closet. Flicking on the light, she sees a small nest made from wash cloths, some missing shirts, and food wrapper containing five chirpy foals. A little further back, she sees an orange earthie dam with a white mane that looks about to burst. She also notices a small hole that leads behind her couch in the living room.
“Hewwo nice wady! Tank ‘ou fow wetting fwuffy stay in nice housie.”
This confused the fuck out of Sarah. She didn’t let the fluffies in here and she knew sure as hell they didn’t put that hole in the wall. “Ok fluffy, who let you in my house?”
“Nice mistah did! Nice mistah say dat nice wady wub fwuffies, bu’ bawkie munstah nu wike fwuffies. Su nice mistah teww fwuffies tu hidies whiwe bawkie munstah is wakies.”
“Who is nice mister?”
“Nice mistah is nice mistah.”
Sarah wanted to gut the dumb ass so fucking much right now, but that would just make the room messier. She decided to ignore the fat dumb ass and move the foals out first. There a brown unicorn colt, a green pegasus colt, an orange pegasus filly, a gray earthie colt, and finally a white alicorn filly with what looked like light purple trim around her hooves. Purple was Sarah’s favorite color and that alone saved the brood from an instant death.
She took the foals and plopped them in the bath tub with their mother. She quickly got to feeding the hungry foals. From what Sarah could tell, there was no foal favoritism going on. “Ok, here’s how this is going to work. You are going to take care of all your foals equally, and if any of them go forever-sleepies, I will cut one of your legs off. Understand?” She nods. “Good, and I hope you aren’t attached to the orange dam that was in the crawlspace with you. You will most likely not be seeing that moron again.” The mare starts to tear up but nods to indicate she understands. With that Sarah leaves to get moron.
“Ok, Moron,” the mare winces, “you and your friend broke into my house WITHOUT my permission. You pissed and shat in my crawlspace, you stole food, you stole my clothes and wash cloths, and have the gall to act all happy about it.”
“B-b-b-bu’ fwuffy thou-”
“Moron, your name is Moron. Because you are the dumbest fluffy I ever met. That includes the stallion who tried to hump a razor wire fence.”
“Mowon nu wi… nuuhuuhuu. Mowon hab meanie namsies.” The dam was wailing at this point and was completely inconsolable. Sarah just reached down and picked her up by the scruff of her neck. “Bad upsies” Sarah just flicked her muzzle and took her outside to show Brandon.
“So this was one of the perpetrators who had invaded my house.”
Brandon starts to laugh but catches himself after he looks at Moron for a second. “Was there a second one? Specifically a green one with wings.”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“My idiot son brought that pair home about two weeks ago and I made him get rid of them.”
“Brandon, she mentioned a nice mister who put her in my house and cut a hole in my wall so they could sneak in and out of my crawlspace. He told Moron here that she was welcome to be there and probably warned them about Bosco. Which is bullshit, because he is the worst guard dog when it comes to fluffies and would rather cuddle with them than hurt them.” She pauses for a second, “Do you think he used the emergency key I have you looking after for me to smuggle them in?”
“Let’s find out.” Brandon and Sarah walk next door to Brandon’s house and she waits outside while Brandon goes inside and brings out a scrawny sixteen year old teenage boy with him.
“Nice mistah! Pwease sabe Mowon fwom meanie wady!”
“So you were the jack ass who put these shit rats in my house!”
The young man looks very nervous at being caught, “you better speak up Johnathon. You being a hugboxer I can accept. I only made you get rid of them because we can’t afford one fluffy, let alone two very pregnant dams.”
“So what if I did? What else was I supposed to do? Kill them?”
“SCREEEEEE!! NU HUWT MOWON!” Sarah was gripping the orange dam by her right foreleg and twisting with all her might. “Pwease nu ta-,” before she could finish, Sarah had ripped the leg clean out of the socket. “NUUHUUHUU!”
“MY HOUSE IS NOT A FUCKING HOTEL FOR SHITRATS!” She tosses the leg at John’s feet. “You are fucking lucky I haven’t called the cops on you.”
“Huuhu- SCREEEEEE!” Sarah grabs Moron’s left foreleg and rips it out as well. “Nuuhuuhuu. Nu t-t-take weggies, pwease.”
“What the fuck are you doing to her?!” John yelled. “She was innocent in all of this.”
“Well, I can’t rip your arms off now can I?” Sarah looks to Brandon, “I would like my key back please.”
“Sure, just give me a minute,” Brandon looks to John, “and you better be thankful all she did was rip the fluffy’s legs off. I have half a mind to kick you out of the house for your bullshit.” Brandon heads inside to get the key leaving John and Sarah alone.
“I’m sorry, just please stop hurting her.”
“Oh I didn’t hurt her, you did. Remember, if you didn’t pull this stunt she would still have all her legs.” She shakes the trembling soon-mummah. “I don’t even hate fluffies. If you had come to me I might have taken one in willingly, but you broke into my house, ruined my wall, and almost gave me a heart attack when I noticed some chocolate snack cakes were missing. I thought my dog was going to die because of you!”
“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking and it will never happen again.”
“Good. However, ‘sorry’ doesn’t fix the hole in my wall, or clean up the mess the shitrats made.” Sarah looks John in the eyes. “Once I get my key back, I am going to leave and you are never going to see this fluffy again.”
“I understand ma’am.” He looks down as his father comes back out.
“Here you go Sarah. Sorry about all of this.”
“Don’t worry, after my little display with Moron here, I think we’re even.” Sarah just smiled and left with softly crying Moron.
“P-p-pwease nice wady. Pwease wet soon-mummah go.” Her wounds were clotted, but she was definitely was weak from blood loss. Sarah just ignored her and walked down into the basement. There she sat Moron on a workbench she used for small repairs. Moron was shivering with fear.
“How does it feel Moron? How does it feel to know you will never run or play ever again? How does it feel to know you can never hug any of your babies?”
Moron was distraught. She could barely do more than stutter and cry. Then it all stopped with the phrase, “BIGGEST POOPIES!” Sarah just watched as the suffering fluffy gave birth. First came an orange earthie filly, then a pink pegasus colt, followed by a red unicorn colt, then a cream colored earthie colt, a yellow earthie filly, and finally a toxic green pegasus colt.
Sarah decided to take pity on the mass of chirping fluffy and got a basin of warm water and towel to clean them. One by one she cleaned and placed the foals in front Moron. She then sat Moron on her haunches and helped feed the foals, well most of them. Sarah held the orange one in front of its mother’s face. “Now if you want to feed this one you’ll have to do something for me.”
“What’s dat wady.” The fluffy was clearly scared of Sarah, but had no choice but to do what she said.
Sarah got a mason jar and dropped the filly in and screwed the lid on nice and tight. “Open this jar for me.”
“B-b-bu’ Mowon nu can open jaw. Nu have fwont weggies.”
“Well, then I guess you have to watch her die.”
“Pwease nu! Onwy widdwe babbeh! Nevah du anytin’ tu ou’! Huuhuuhuu.” Her foals started chirping in distress as Moron started crying.
“You’re right. It is only a little baby, but that doesn’t mean jack shit to me. Now hold still.” Sarah suddenly jammed a heated iron into both of Moron’s stumps and slathered them with insta heal gel. Moron just screamed silently through the whole process, clearly too exhausted to scream anymore. “You know what’s funny, Johnathon thinking this would be a safe place for you.” Moron looked up at Sarah. “I don’t hate fluffies, but my former line of work led to me killing, pillowing, and milk bagging them on a regular basis.”
Moron was extremely scared at hearing this. She grew up in a mill and nursed from a milk bag as a foal. She wanted to panic, to run away, but she couldn’t. This ‘munstah wady’ had taken her legs and made it impossible to escape.
“Chirp… cheep…ch…”
“B-b-babeh NUUHUUHUU!” Moron cried for her dead foal. The panicked chirping for food had exhausted her air supply.
“Awe, too bad. I guess you didn’t love her enough.”
Moron just looked at Sarah and asked a single question, “Why?”
She simply replied, “because I can.”
