Tootsie giggled and cooed, kicking her back hoofs while trying to get her mummah’s attention. This was a forever foal, dark brown with a purple mane and tail. Bad colors, a strange case when forever foals happened to be special order products that the buyer happened to be heavily involved in. As far as forever foals went she was rather typical. Obese to the point of near immobility, though she could wiggle and flop around like a seal on a sheet of ice to scoot across the floor. This wasn’t something that she did often as it wore her poor tired little body out and didn’t you know? Tootsie was a baby! Just a WIDDEW babbeh, as she was fond of reminding people nearly constantly. This filly (well, technically mare. She was three) still had nubs of teeth left. Rare for her ilk, though they were malformed and twisted. Yellowing stumps that punctured through her gums, misaligned because she was nearly constantly suckling on a pacifier if she wasn’t babbling like a retard. To cap it all of, she wore bulky pink cloth diapers. The edges were frilled with frothy white lace while the back boldly stated ‘CUTEST PRINCESS’ in sparkling diamond glitter.
“Meemah! Meemah! Boooo! Toosie, wook Toosie! Meemah!” Her mummah was watching teebee which is, well, usually what she was doing. Tootsie had her own teebee in the little saferoom just for her but she didn’t usually like to be in there. If there was a thing that forever foals hated it was being split up from their mummahs or daddehs.
Judy looked down to her prettiest li’l sugar dumpling of a fluffy. Oh it was hard not to feel something when looking at those precious little beady eyes staring at her with adoration. Taking a massive drag off of her Marlboro Light, she gave several cutesy coos to her biopet.
This woman, Judy Johnson, bore a shocking resemblance to her fluffy. Obese. Incredibly so. The couch she sat on, covered in an old quilt, sagged dangerously low down to the floor of her humble double-wide trailer home. Messy brown going on grey hair covered in a multitude of cheap plastic Dollar Tree hairclips, a Marlboro Light always poking out from her toadlike mouth. Judy always dressed in sweatpants no matter the occasion along with whatever Goodwill sweater she’d picked out for the day. Oh there were the ones with faded Looney Tunes characters or silkscreened teddy bears with some ass-tightening cutesy ‘sweet expression’ on the front. Today though she was wearing her favorite from when she’d gone to Fluffcon 2024 which had went down in Reno.
“I see you. Coo coo. Wub. Buubuubuu.” She warbled her fat greasy lips at the fluffy and blew air kisses, making the oversized living toy squeal in delight and flop her limbs around happily. Tootsie was so happy that her mummah was paying attention, in fact, she squeezed her eyes shut and gave a massive shudder. There was a wet, rippling explosion of sound as the fluffy completely busted ass in her diaper. Looking directly to Judy, she grunted and did it again with a squeal of giggles.
“Babbeh make gud poopsies ‘fo mummah! Babbeh gud babbeh! Teehee! YAY!” Gurgled the forever foal while suckling on her hoof. Giving the beshitted fluffy a leering smile, Judy got up from her sofa with a groan and warbled over to her with few steps that caused the trailer to shake. The TV stand which was covered with porcelain Precious Moments figurines and an ancient candy dish gave a few precarious wobbles as if it would pitch it’s bevy of priceless treasures to the floor.
“Did my widdew babbeh make poopies? Did she make mummah TOOTSIE ROLLS?” Clamored Judy as if her freak of nature had just lovingly crafted her a masterwork of art. The only proper response from Toots was to curl her bottom lip and gave ‘pbbblllttt!’ happily, spraying formula stinking saliva everywhere.
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Tootsie was all cleaned up, in a brand new diaper, and currently being squished into an obscenely tight pink leotard complete with a frilly tutu. A chintzy dimestore tiara was clipped onto her mane, gaudy fake gemstones catching in the light and giving tiny sparkles. Why the pomp and circumstance? Today was the big day: The Sketti Dave’s Fluffy Funzone trip that the talkie babbehs from her daycare program were going on. Of course, she’d been on many of these trips during her three years on this planet. Fluffies aged quickly but she didn’t, wouldn’t. All of her ‘friends’ saw it as an incredibly special occasion marking their admittance to the age group in the daycare but this was something that she did every month.
“C’mon little girl. Let’s get you on out to the van.” Huffing and puffing, Judy groaned as she got her bouncing bundle of joy out of the trailer and out to her vehicle. Sliding up the back passenger door, she got the cooing forever foal buckled up into her specialty carseat. Looking up to a bunch of jingly bells and mirrors suspended over the seat, she’d squeal and blabber while swinging her hooves up at it all.
Squeezing her gut behind the steering wheel, Judy gasped for breath and flailed a hand out for her purse. “Can’t breathe…need a smoke!” She rasped out, squeezing one between her lips and popping a lighter under it. Twisting the key into the ignition, she started the van up and immediately went to fumble around with a stack of CDs. Tootsie had begun to fuss and whine behind her.
Fluffbop: Disney Hits collection. Yes, fluffies singing your favorite Disney movie songs! It was her dearest fluff’s most favorite thing in the whole world. Now fluffies obviously weren’t going to be able to remember or let alone sing along to complex lyrics. An example? A midi instrumental of ‘Let it Go’ which Hasbio’s product team had ripped off some Chinese website with vocal backing of a fluffy belting out ‘Wet it go!’ over and over again.
“WETITGU! WETITGU! WETITGU!” Tootsie screeched from her carseat, flailing around with such excitement one wouldn’t be remiss in thinking she’d somehow tear the buckles out and go tumbling to the van floor.
The trip to Sketti Dave’s Fluffy Funzone was uneventful otherwise. Dangerously swinging her van into the parking lot, Judy could only smile as her li’l Tootsie lost her mind and shrieked, thrashing around more at seeing the building with it’s eyeball puckering rainbow facade and the giant dish of plastic skettis on the roof. This place was basically the mecca for fluffies, even a forever foal who could by most rights not do much if any of the activities in there.
Squeezing out from behind the steering wheel, Judy huffed and puffed as she went to the back of the van. It had an electronic lift installed back there from which a mobility scooter was loaded onto. This scooter was reinforced to have a big gal on it and covered in various stickers such as ‘I BRAKE FOR FOREVER FOALS’ and ‘HUGS NOT DRUGS’. A small pennant flag of a photoshopped President Trump hugging two different foals flew from the back, but the main thing one would notice about this glorious chariot was the fact that it had a little sidecar. Yes a detachable cart, the seat filled with cushions and blankets. Unbuckling Tootsie from her carseat, Judy carefully slotted the giggling idiot into the sidecar and grabbed a bulky pink diaper bag from the trunk. Sliding onto the scooter with a groan, she turned it on and hauled ass through the parking lot with a furious flutter of her Hugbox Trump flag.
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The inside of Sketti Dave’s was an absolute madhouse but how couldn’t it be? This was the equivalent of a Chuck E. Cheese for fluffies and the sight inside definitely made sure no questions could be raised about that fact. Large rainbow colored groups of fluffies of all ages could be seen skittering down the stained carpeting of the place, oohing and aahing at all of the sights. Oh there were the typical games such as: Stack A Block. The goal? To stack a block! It was harder than one would think. Currently there was a stallion standing nervously trying to position the single rainbow colored block onto a platform before fumbling it down. Lights blared, a red siren flashing overhead. ‘LOSER. WE HAVE A LOSER’ a loud voice blasted out at him.
Another game was Huggies. There were a line of different stuffed fluffy models lined up, each of them fitted with a sensors that could read how much pressure was being used. Fluffies competed to see who the best hugger was, each of them wrapping their arms around the fluffy dummies and cooing as they did their best to show how good they were. Hugs were measured on a scale with an arrow that went from ‘POOPIE BABBEH’ all the way to ‘BESTEST HUGGIES EVER’. If the machine thought you had the strength of a poopie babbeh, you wouldn’t get anything. Good hugs though? This was treated with triumphant music piped out over the game speakers, and the machine would spit out a roll of prize tickets.
Oh yes, prize tickets. Up at the front of the establishment was a prize counter that fluffies could exchange their hard-earned tickets at. Most of the prizes were complete shit. Plastic spider rings? They didn’t even have fingers and most would just choke on the plastic. A sticker sheet? They’d put them where they didn’t belong and likely get sorry-sticked for the effort. All fluffies had their eyes on the various stuffy-fwends, mostly. It wasn’t all that uncommon for a fluffy to blow $200 trying to earn a cheap pink elephant that even the most unscrupulous flea market purveyor would have quality control issues of.
We’ll be revisiting the prize counter later but for right now let’s go back to Tootsie. Taking a sharp corner with her scooter into the little party area where the daycare patrons were gathered, Judy slumped off the machine and went about setting up a little area for her baby. Plush blankets were laid out on the floor along with a collection of various toys. Felt books, rattles, a well-worn stuffy friend that Tootsie had chewed an ear off of. With a ‘humph’, Judy hefted Tootsie up from her sidecar and plopped her down gently onto the little play area.
The daycare owner who was currently minding the newest gaggle of talkie babbehs turned her attention to Judy, took on a momentary dark expression, forced a smile.
“Judy and Tootsie! Always so nice to see you two.” This young woman had the look as if she’d rather be in a pit of cockroaches than in the company of these two. Tootsie was one thing but her owner was an entirely different bucket of worms altogether. A more unpleasant specimen she’d hope to never see. With a winding groan, Judy had settled onto one of the plush benches in the booths for humans and lifted up one of the grease-shiny menus to peruse it. As if she needed to, this was one of the many trips she’d already made her.
Meanwhile, a few of the talkie babbehs who were Tootsie’s new daycare mates would wonder up curiously to look at her. This was a BIG fluffy! Why was she currently with all of them? They were so curious about this. Chili curiously poked up beside Tootsie with a big smile on his face. The red and yellow colt was flanked by his bwudda, a green and brown colt named Guac.
“Wook, Gwak! Big fwuffy!” Chili said excitedly, giving a tiny waggle of his tail. Giggling in wonder, Guac sidled up to try and give Tootsie a big hug. Curling her sluglike bottom lip down, the forever foal began to shriek and flail around on the blanket as if the two had just tried to murder her. Jerking back as if he’d just been lit up with a livewire, Guac blinked in confusion and squealed.
“AM OMWY BABBEH! WEAB BABBEH AWONE! NU WIKE MEANIE HUWTIES! HUUUHUUHUU! NUUUU!” Flailing around and kicking her legs against the felt books to create rapid crinkling noises, Judy immediately got up from her booth and marched over fatly to grab the miscreant brothers by the scruff of their necks.
“Do you two think that’s funny? Picking on a baby? My poor little Tootsie?” The woman’s wide nostrils flared out, breath being sucked in and out rapidly. Took the two and rolled them along the floor, shaking her head. With small ‘huuhuus’, the pair ran off together to avoid further meanies from this munstah mummah.
Once that was settled, Judy fell back to her booth and snapped her fingers in the air to get some goddamn service. The waiters in this place all wore red and white striped shirts, red suspenders, and had felt Sketti Dave helmets shoved over their heads. One of the poor goons wandered over to take her order.
“Howdy li’l miss! Welcome to Sketti Dave’s where every…” This sketti man was dancing around, doing a happy little jig, when Judy shoved one doughy hand up to cut him off right then and there with a scowl.
“Stop trying to get into my pants and take my order. I’ll take a basket of Good Poopies Poppers, a pizzarito, two Chili Cheese Chirpy Chalupas, the sketti bucket, and Bob’s Country Platter.” Rattling off her order with the same gravity of the president giving orders to empty the nuclear silos, Judy fixed the waiter with narrowed eyes. Before he could turn away to give the kitchen the massive amount of food to make, she snapped her fingers again.
“Where you think you’re going, boy? There’s a baby down there. Pick her up and give her a hug before I have to speak wich’yer manager!” Ah yes. Tootsie. This particular waiter was actually well accustomed with her after their frequent trips. Bending down, he clumsily picked the forever foal up and squeezed his arms around her. This was like holding a fat, lumpy sack of hot mashed potatoes. One that stank of shit, at that. Now most fluffies didn’t smell THAT bad in his opinion but her? It was revolting, even through his mask.
“SKEBBI DABE! TOOSIE WUB YEW!” Giggling and flailing her back hooves around, Tootsie got so wound up that she burped and then projectile vomited her stomach contents all over him. The specialty forever foal formula that had coagulated and clumped together in her tummy. Now his first reaction was to throw her at the wall, but the waiter carefully set her down on the pile of blankets she’d been lolling about on and turned to leave once more.
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Back out on the game floor where the excitement was happening. Chili and Guac were doing the rounds, looking at all of the games which were appropriate for their age level. Pipsqueaks like them would never be able to fathom the intricacies of Stack the Block after all. While looking at a giant litterbox which was posited as being a game, Chili suddenly had a BIG idea.
“Gwak, wha if…babbehs geh big fwuffy a pwize?” He felt bad about disturbing her and making the munstah mummah angry. Walking in, he’d seen all the stuff on display at the prize counter. The daycare owner had even explained to the group of fluffies under her command what prizes were and that they’d need to earn tickets to earn one. Most of them who had gone on the trip that day wouldn’t earn a single thing and would be throwing tearful tantrums by the end of it all.
Guac’s ears perked up with interest. Nod! What a great idea! If they got the big fwuffy a prize, that would make everything better. Then nobody would have heawt huwties over what they had done. “Yis! Bwudda am smawtiest smawty EBAH!”
What game to play though? Looking around, Chili found that most of the fluffies weren’t getting any tickets from stuff. Wandering over to VERY small pool of water with a tiny metal fish in it, he blinked and nudged a toy fishing rod with a magnet on the line. The goal of the game, as explained on a video panel to the side, was watching the fishies with the rod and then depositing them into a collection chute. Booping the tiny band looped around one of his fronts legs against the scanner, the game would officially start.
“ARE YOU READY TO CATCH THE BIG ONE?” A boom voiced out at him from speakers as a rock instrumental started up. Chili nodded as Guac watched in amazement from the sidelines.
“Yis! Chiwi weady tu catch fishy!” He answered back, clutching the fishing rod in his mouth and leaning out to clumsily dip the magnet into the water below. The colt watched helplessly as the fish bobbed through the water but didn’t seem to want to get on the line. Watching as his bwuddah’s face was sinking because he was clearly losing, Guac gave a ‘hmph!’ and bravely stepped up to the pool. With a deep breath, he clambered in over the side and splished into it. This was very dangerous despite it only reaching up just barely past his hooves.
Fishing pole clattering down from his mouth, Chili shook his head frantically. “Nuu bwuddah! NUU! Wawa am bad fow fwuffies! Yew am git WOWSTEST huwties!” Should he go alert the nice daycare lady? Maybe Sketti Date? His brother AND best friend was currently endangering his life. Bending down, Guac begin catching the metal fish toys in his mouth and spitting them out to the floor below. Catching on quickly, Chili gathered them up and began dropping them into the collection chute.
“BIG CATCH!”
“YOU’RE HAULIN’ BASS!”
“YOU’RE WINNER!” The video screen flashed bright lights and then the ticket slot began spitting out long ribbons of the precious paper commodity. Yipping and cheering as they did dancies to celebrate their earnings, someone was watching them the whole time.
Stepping up to the pair was none other yellow filly with a well groomed white mane and tail. Her mane was done up with several cheerfully bright rainbow hairpins, and a tiny red apple sticker was pressed to her chest. It was a badge to show she was the Bestest Girl, which meant a lot of responsibility and tattling.
“Hewwo Sunsheen.” Chili said while pinning his ears down. His brother did his best to hide the water dropping off his hooves and gave a goofy smile but they knew this was trouble.
Smirking to the pair, Sunshine gave an authoritative waggle of her tail. “Sunsheen see yew two cheatin’ BAD babbehs! Cheatin’ am bad! Gun teww on yew…” Turning to leave and go snitch on the two, Chili quickly grabbed her tail with his mouth and held her back. Sunshine looked over her shoulder and waited for him to release her.
“Pwease dun teww on Chiwi an’ Guac! No am cheatin’ babbehs! Am gud babbehs!” Babbling out, trying his best to not have the entire trip ruined by the acts of the resident tattletale. Considering things for a moment, Sunshine nodded and then went to clutch at the tangle of tickets the two had won. With that she went trotting off, successfully having taken the payment for not landing the two right in the sorry-box where they belong. Chili sadly sank down to his haunches.
“Wha naow, bwuddah? Aw da’ tickets nu am hewe naow. Neba gun git bestest pwize.” The poor colt lamented, feeling down in the dumps. How were they going to apologize to the big fluffy without a big prize? Guac cast his eyes about the game area before finally settling down on something right in the center of the room. It was monolithic. An absolute towering construction of brightly colored glass, metal, and garish flashing lights. This was a game every fluffy could play yet only those destined to change fate could ever hope to seize victory from.
The game which towered over everything else was ‘Guess the Number’. It was a something which had many fluffies attempt to surpass yet none could ever hope to surmount. The game was simple: After scanning their armband to play, a biopet only had to choose. Panels were set up labeled from 1 to 5. You may be guessing how this ever stumped fluffies as surely one would get a win eventually. Right? RIGHT?
No. The game was rigged so that the only button which would payout was 5. It was the jackpot button. Yet fluffies never, ever chose 5. These simple minded ponies were drawn as if through some sort of hypnosis to choose 3. Every time, without fail, it was 3. The other panels were covered in dust yet the panel holding that fabled number was covered in drying spaghetti sauce, saliva, sorry-poopies, and tears from a never-ending line of losers.
Chili and Guac joined the line of fluffies waiting to use the machine. Armbands were scanned, the ‘3’ button was pushed. Some left the area with a quiet sigh of defeat. Others squared up and angrily tried to fight the button. One mummah tried to offer a babbeh to the machine as if to please some God. As they finally got to the front of the line, ready to scan their armband and make a selection, Guac gave an ‘ooohhh!’
“Bwuddah, dat button am wook wike a daddeh gibbin’ huggies!” Giggling, Guac showed off the 3. Yes it did indeed look like a daddeh offering huggies. Feeling an overwhelming urge to press a hoof down on it, Chili snapped back to attention. No…no! They had to win a big prize.
“Gwak, do yew bewieb in bestest bwuddah Chiwi?” He asked with a look of deadly seriousness. Blinking in surprise and feeling a mounting pressure, a heroic heat rising in his chest, Guac shoved a hoof out and gently tapped his shoulder.
“Yes! Bewieb in yew! BEWIEB IN YEW, BWUDDAH!” With that said, Chili took a deep breath. Skipped right past the haunting siren that was the ‘3’ button, the power it possessed. Standing in front of ‘5’, he gave a squeal of courage and slammed both hooves forward with proud squeaks. At first nothing happened. A silence seemed to go over the entire place. Then, a roar of sound. A glittering rainbow strobe light descended from the ceiling on a cable. Confetti poured down from a panel that opened overhead. Pulsing with lights and roaring with music, the monster that was known as Guess the Number had been defeated. Tickets spat out of the dispenser slot. Long coils of paper that slithered and collected down on the floor. Standing among the tickets, Chili and Guac were actually being covered in them. They were the heroes!
“Alright you two highrollers, I don’t know how you did it but that’s enough of Guess the Number.” A guy on a Sketti Dave costumed told them in a disgruntled voice, grabbing up the two fluffies along with their prize winnings. Nobody was actually supposed to win that game and someone was going to be getting fired over allowing it to happen. The owner of this place kept a tight ship, after all. Hoisting the two anomalies over to the prize counter, they were plopped down onto the glass so they could choose their winning.
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Pitching forward over on the table, Judy felt her guts groan under the weight of all the grease she’d just consumed. Looking down to the novelty plastic littertray that the Good Poopies Poppers came in, she gave a winding belch and stood up to wobble on over to her scooter.
“Mama needs to go potty, sweetie.” Tootsie was told as her mummah quickly pulled into reverse and smacked into a nearby table. Whimpering, Tootsie watched as the most precious figure in her life went zipping out of the room to go completely destroy a handicap stall with her ass.
Normally a forever foal would completely lose their shit at the sight of their owner leaving. They were actually created to be basically grafted at the hip of their mummah or daddeh, and it usually caused a great deal of anxiety to spike up within them. Yet this was Sketti Dave’s and Tootsie had NEVER been left alone while here.
“Guuu…teehee…” Thumping and wriggling around the floor like a fur-covered slug, Tootsie left a slimy trail of saliva behind her. At first she wasn’t sure WHAT she should be doing. After all, this was her very first time being away from mummah. Most forever foals were very scared of the infamous Munstah Man dropping down from the ceiling and giving them a proper ass-whooping should they misbehave but all of these lights and sounds were really starting to lead her in different directions.
First she army crawled on over to a big clump of gum wadded up on the carpet. Sticking out her tongue and blipping it against the now-hardened sweetie nummie, she found it taste quite nice. Very much unlike the forever foal formula that was usually on the menu. Trying to clamp her teeth down on it, she yanked back a bit and found that it wouldn’t budge.
“Nu wike Toosie babbeh? Nu am gud babbeh?” She asked the gum with a painfully innocent expression, tearing up and wiggling away from it while looking over her shoulder to see if it had suddenly changed it’s mind and would maybe fly right into her mouth.
Eventually she meandered on over to a small platform raised slightly off the ground. It was a big metal box with shiny lights blinking all over it, 8 different fluffy sized holes conveniently cut out on the top. Rolling over curiously, Tootsie peered over the edge of one of the holes, teetered, slid right in. Her pretty pink tutu caught on the edge for a moment, caused her to dangle slightly into the darkness, then sent her descending a few inches into the box below. Thumping down onto a cold and unforgiving surface, she shrieked at both the momentary flare of pain along with the fear that darkness brought.
“MUMMAH? MUMMMAAAHHHH!” She wailed out helplessly, looking around for Judy but not finding her. There was a shape in the darkness, and she instinctively went out toward it. Pressing her cheek up against the shape, she cooed and nuzzled against it. It was another fluffy! Nowhere near as good as mummah but it was enough to help a babbeh like her.
Sniffling and pouting, Tootsie clutched against the fluffy in the darkness and whimpered about her situation. “Toosie am hab huwties and scawdies. Pwease hewp widdew babbeh. Huuhuu….”
Little did she know that she had fallen right into one of Sketti Dave’s most fun games: Smack-a-Smarty! After scanning their armbands, a fluffy was given a little vinyl club with which to smack smarties that popped up out of the holes. As it just so happened, a fluffy named Bing had sidled up to the machine and he had a lot of frustration to take out on it. Just earlier somefluff had called him a dummeh babbeh for carrying around a Cinnamummah stuffy-fwend and he was going to get his revenge symbolically. Scanning his armband to start the game, he grabbed the vinyl mallet in his mouth and watched as animatronic fluffies began popping out of the holes.
“Dummeh!” Cried one who got a mallet right to the face!
“Stinkeh!” Another shrilly shrieked at him as it came out of the hole, causing Bing to give an indignant squeal around the mallet handle and bop him hard.
Finally, the animatronic that Tootsie was clinging to popped out of the hole. Sniffling and looking to Bing, Tootsie tried to appeal to him.
“Hewwo gud fwend, Toosie nee’ mummah. Yew hewp Toosie?” It didn’t matter what she said though because currently Bing was in a smarty smackin’ rage and could only see red! Crashing down on top of Tootsie’s head and right against her face, the forever foal could only screech and flail around helplessly. Normally the platform would have dropped but her tutu had once more gotten stuck in the hole, jamming up the mechanism and keeping her trapped there.
“OWWIES! BIGGES’ OWWIES! HEWP BABBEH! NUUU!” Fat body jiggling around like a garbage bag full of jelly, she eventually managed to freak out enough to rip her tutu completely off and go rolling off the platform and down the dirty carpeting. Huffing a bit, Bing watched her sadly crying on the floor before a bunch of tickets popped out of a dispenser to distract him.
Curled up on the floor, Tootsie could only sniffle and look around for her mummah. There was a pain in her poor head and the princess tiara which had been clipped to her mane was torn off in the brutal attack back there. Winding up for a bloodcurdling scream, she found her breath lost. There was something wonderful nearby. Yes, the most amazing thing she had ever seen. It was Sketti Dave’s main attraction and what every fluffy dreamed of.
Along the floor of the play area was a long ditch-like structure. This was a massive feeding trough filled with copious amounts of nothing but SKETTIS. Gloopy, steaming, delicious. The noodly and saucy goodness that was hardwired into every fluffy in existence. Tired workers were constantly coming in out of the kitchen with actual trashcans filled with the cheapest sketti slop they could possibly produce and pouring it out into the ditch.
Now skettis were something that forever foals were denied. A cruel reality. They craved this thing but were only allowed to have formula or super soft kibble. Eating real nummies was bad…but…mummah wasn’t around to tell her that. For the first time in who knew who long, Tootsie weakly got to her hooves. It hurt her weggies a lot and it was so difficult to keep doing. Hooves clumsily wobbling back and fourth like a toddler taking it’s first steps, she ran as quick as she could toward the sketti canyon and fell down to her belly at the last second as she breached the entrance.
Tootsie went flying down the spaghetti trough on her tummy like a slip ‘n slide, mouth held wide open. It went pounding down her throat in a constant delicious river until she finally spiraled out at the end, spun around, stuffed her face back down to the gloopy mess underneath her. Opening her mouth and shoving her face down, she vacuumed it into her mouth with reckless abandon. This was the very bestest day of her life and nothing could stop that.
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Meanwhile, Chili and Guac were proudly standing in front of the prize counter. They had gotten all of their winnings and felt like the biggest big boys who had ever lived. Their haul consisted of a plastic spider ring apiece, a sheet of stickers, and their offering to Tootsie: A pink pacifier that played a lullaby when one pressed a switch. Chili had put his spider ring snugly over his snout while Guac had eaten his on accident, and the two of them had placed stickers all over one another. Said stickers were sparkly and each depicted a cartoon food item.
Currently, Guac had the pacifier they were going to be offering up shoved into his mouth and was sucking greedily on it. Though they were no longer stupid dummeh babbehs, Chili felt himself kind of jealous over this. He wanted a turn with it!
“Gwak! Yew gib Chiwi a tuwn wite NAOW!” Scrabbling a hoof out for the sucky in Guac’s mouth, his brother flailed his front hooves and gave a huff. Enough to cause Chili to puff his cheeks out and blow a rude raspberry.
“Gwak is a big dummeh stinkeh dipey babbeh! Suckies am ‘fo WIDDEW BABBEHS!” This despite the fact that he REALLY wanted a turn with it. Engaging in a slap-fight that caused both to cry out as if this were a contest for their lives, they wouldn’t even notice the danger which was currently flopping up to them.
Having spied the pair with a pacifier, Tootsie had emerged from the sketti trough like a beast from the primordial ooze. Noodles dripped from from her head and her once pretty little leotard was completely covered in sauce. Wriggling over to the pair, she tapped a hoof against the floor.
“Dat am babbeh’s paci! Wan dat wite naow! Gib Toosie!” Well, originally it had been for her. Guac and Chili both stared down to the overgrown fluffy though Guac just began to suck on it even faster. After the fight with his brother, he’d begun to feel quite bratty.
This was the last straw for Tootsie though. After having been beat upside the head with a mallet, she WANTED that thing. It was HERS! Even though she couldn’t remember owning it ever before, mummah gave her everything.
“MUMMAH! BAD FWUFFIES TAKE BESTEST BABBEH TOOSIE PACI! MUMMMAAHHHH! HEWP TOOSIE!” Beginning to sob hysterically, the brothers exchanged a look. It seemed for a moment that Guac was considering spitting out the pacifier yet he wouldn’t have a chance. The cavalry had just arrived.
Charging across the lobby of Sketti Dave’s Fluffy Funzone was Judy, hand squeezing down against the throttle of her scooter with such force that her knuckles turned white. With a loud electronic buzz she want careening right over Guac, a wheel crushing down on his spine. With an ‘oomp!’ that caused the pacifier in his mouth to be spit out along with a cloud of blood, the poor colt found himself stuck well under the wheel. Tootsie didn’t even notice this and cooed with delight, popping the pacifier into her mouth and sucking on it enthusiastically.
“B-Bw-Bwu….!” No matter how many times he tried to get a word out, Chili found himself unable to. It’s like someone was holding onto his tongue. Huuhuuing and screaming under the wheel, Guac watched his brother try to give him huggies but couldn’t feel them.
Chili looked from side to side, bottom lip sticking out. “H-H…H…” No, still couldn’t get any words out. Judy bent over to scoop up Tootsie with both hands, gently cradling her close.
“Look at you! You’re a mess! I told you to stay on your blanket. When we get home, you’re going to have quiet time for the rest of the day.” Scolding her fluffy gently. Tootsie could only giggle and give her a wide-eyed look before being placed in the scooter’s sidecar.
Watching in horror, Chili couldn’t do a damn thing as the wheel under Guac’s spine couldn’t catch any purchase and instead spun right on top of his brother’s back. The smell of burning fur rose up and tiny shreds of flesh caught up around the scooter, the mobility device taking a massive lunge forward after spitting out the colt behind it. Shredded to pieces, spine broken and clearly exposed, but still somehow alive. Peeping and still not feeling the huggies that Chili was still trying to give him.
++++
Once Judy and Tootsie were home, the forever foal had been cleaned up properly and changed into a new diaper. Judy was quite serious about her fluffy receiving punishment in the form of ‘quiet time’, which was her way of saying she was going to be locked up in her safe room for the rest of the night and not get any attention. The thing about forever foals is, if you let them act up once, their social programming would quickly begin to fall apart.
Setting Tootsie down on her heavily blanket nest area, Judy shook an index finger out. “Now you just remember that I’m not coming back in here for the rest of the night, young lady. If you mess yourself, you’ll just have to wait until morning.” Looking up to her mummah with sleepy eyes, Tootsie didn’t really understand or care that much at the moment. Instead she just stretched out and rapidly drifted off to sleep. It’d been a very long day after all!
A few hours passed before her eyes fluttered upon once more. Something felt wrong, like she needed to make poopies. Intense pain and pressure in her gut. Giving a grunt, squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to dispel it but instead gave out a winding fart that shook a nearby curtain. That felt a bit better but it still felt like she needed to make poopies. For now she would call out:
“Meemah? Meemah we am yew? Toosie hab tummy huwties an’ nee’ huggies an’ wubbies.” There was no immediate response. For a forever foal this was like the end of the world. Quite anger inducing.
“Meemah! Babbeh nee’ yew wite NAOW pwease!” She demanded at the closed door painted with a mural of cartoon ducks. Pinning her ears down, she decided maybe watching FluffTV Jr was the proper thing to do. If mummah didn’t wub HER, maybe she didn’t wub mummah anymore. After all, she’d had bestest skettis earlier for the first time ever and was feeling way more rebellious than someone of her ilk ever should be.
Stomping a hoof down on the remote for her teebee, she tried to focus on FluffTV Jr. If you thought the regular channel was the pinnacle of stupidity, it would seem like genius entertainment compared to this. A hand came into frame and jingled some keys around. Disappeared from frame, came back with a paper tissue and wiggled it around. This was replaced by a colorful sheet of construction paper, whatever intern in charge of this program apparently just taking any object found around the office to entertain especially young fluffies. Watching the television with a rapt expression, a long curl of drool dripped down from Tootsie’s mouth.
How much more time passed? Impossible to tell but the brown ‘filly’ had begun to feel quite uncomfortable. Now it felt as if her entire was filled with poopies. It was the worst huwties she’d ever experienced, even after the bopping she’d taken earlier. White print pajamas with sparkly pink & purple unicorns that mummah had squeezed her into earlier began to strain. Oh yes, Tootsie had begun a rapid expansion.
You see, it was very important that forever foals NEVER ate regular food. They had a specialized diet not only to ensure they received the hormones needed to regulate their bodies, but because their digestive systems were fucked. Everyone knew that fluffies were butcher-jobs when it came to survival but forever foals were like a plant which had been transplanted into an ashtray, kept in a closet, and watered with cat piss.
“MEEMAH! TOOSIE HUWTIES! OWWIES! TUMMEH OWWIES!” Another explosion of gas though it offered no sense of relief. If anything, it felt like more and more pressure was beginning to build up in her. The massive mountain of skettis which had been forced down her throat earlier were rapidly breaking down, though not passing. Not being turned into poopies. Instead the strange digestive tract of fluffies would once more rear it’s dirty head and totally challenge what science knew.
“MEEMAH!” Burping miserably, hiccup, burp. It was impossible to even wiggle her body anymore: The gasses inside her intestines her bloated her body enough to turn it into an organic bowling ball in shape, stubs of hooves wiggling out from a body which was swollen like a tick that had been left to have it’s fill of blood.
Her saferoom began to fill with a toxic curtain, a stink so certain that it had the power to peel colorful paint off the walls and cause decals to wrinkle and fall down to the floor. The buttons on her unicorn pajamas strained into her furry body before snapping off and flying into walls with ‘dings!’.
Eyes stinging and watering from the stink in the air, stink coming from her own body, she could only stare numbly at the television. Each time she tried to speak, only a burp would up from her throat. On teebee, Cinnamummah was shilling another one of her products, proudly standing next to a litterbox and showing how convenient it was for foals to use. In that moment, Tootsie wanted nothing more to make poopies. Even in a litterbox and not her precious dipey. She’d grow up and not be a babbeh anymore…
That was the last thought on her mind as a massive ‘pop!’ punctured the room along with a wheeze of foul excess that sounded like a large balloon deflating. Tootsie’s entire abdomen had exploded out, ribcage splaying out like a turkey which had been picked over. Rotten intestines packed with skettis which had refused to pass snaked out along the floor, and her diaper had exploded right off her ass with a tatter of disposable cloth that flapped back and stuck to the window behind her. The forever foal’s eyes glazed over in extreme pain before she gave one last nasty belch and then nothing more.
