Next time on ‘Trading Housies’, take a peek into the luxury life…
A lightning fast sprawl of images flash by as the promo video begins. What rich assholes would refer to as a ‘chateau’ and the rest of us would describe as a ‘big ass house’. Perfectly maintained estate grounds. The camera settles on a long shot of the winding drive-way before crawling up to a custom Rolls-Royce Power Wheels car. Serving as the driver was a brown stallion wearing a slightly askew chauffeur hat. Directly behind him, his only passenger, was the proverbial belle of the ball. The star of this episode about two families switching fluffies.
“Meet Reina.” The narrator begins. Fluttering her eyelashes, the fluffy mare perks up with a regal air in her toy car. Luxurious royal purple fluff, her mane and tail a deep Mikado yellow that caught every ray of sunshine and only seemed to deepen with color. Being a Chrysalis Fluffies (Ace) , she had a beautiful pair of insect antennae that twitched slightly and bobbed as she moved. Two magnificent wings folded at her back and then up with dramatic flair as the camera focused on her. Varying hues of purples and yellows, delicate as stained glass and seeming to shimmer in the afternoon light.
“Reina is a queen of the fluffy world.” Changing to a still shot of the mare sitting primly on an appropriately sized throne, it begins to cycle through a series of clips.
“Opulence.” A safe room is showed off. It’s really more of a warehouse of expensive objects. There’s an actual pool and waterfall with an accompanying grotto in the room, a loop-d-loop slide, a bed covered with the most expensive of designer toys. Reina floats by on a pool toy, sipping from a virgin pina colada while wearing a gaudy pair of golden sunglasses.
“Grace.” In her own private dance studio, Reina is dressed up in a soft pink leotard and tutu. Custom made ballet slippers cover her hooves. As the Rite of Spring plays, she clumsily wobbles around with dancies to a crowd of her stuffed animals.
“Culture.” The scenery changes to a lavish dining room. Strapped into a high-chair, Reina has several Chinese take-out boxes placed in front of her.
“Dese am Chin-knee skettis.” She relates to the camera as if she were the most outlandish thing in the world, knocking over one of the cartons with a hoof which had been polished up with a clear enamel. Greasy lo-mein spilled out of it. Looking over to her rather stern looking butler, Alphonse, she opened her mouth to receive a chopsticks worth of noodles into her yapper.
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Suddenly, the glitz and wealth disappeared as soon as it had come into play. Twangy guitar strumming played out over B-roll of various country scenery. Backwoods gravel roads. A steer skull laying in some dirt and weeds. An old man chewing tobacco while enjoying a particularly squeaky rocking chair on his front porch.
“Now give a howdy-doo to a more salt of the Earth gal: Loretta.” The narrator announced in a hokey as Hell ‘southern’ voice. Was it Appalachian? Texan? It was shitkicker. Up on screen now was a particularly dirty brown mare standing on top of a giant mound of dirt. Leaves, twigs, and faded candy wrappers poked out of her dull blue mane and tail.
Staring at the camera with a vacant, wall-eyed expression, Loretta kicked her hoof down on the dirt pile to send a poof of earth up. “Dis am Wowetta’s muckies. Am da bestest pwace ‘fo thinkies.” Looking off into the distance, a bit of drool drips down her mouth as her brain was makin’ thoughts.
Another sudden cutaway to show a ramshackle trailer. Long grass grew all along the gravel driveway. Out front was a sign that reading: ‘Tires ‘n bait 4 sale’. The trailer itself was a ramshackle collection of tin and wood, an old blue tarp covered a particularly large hole in the room and fluttered in the wind. One window was covered with a badass tapestry showing a skeleton smoking a big fat doobie while surrounded by marijuana leaves. A window in the back of the trailer was covered with a sadly sun-faded Disney princess blanket, moth-bitten and so neglected that each princess had a warped looking face.
“Loretta’s life is about tons of fun with her owner, Betty-Jo.” The narrator cracked off in his cheesy southern twang as the scenery changed to a young girl’s bedroom which was absolutely jam packed with old toys and clothing scatted in every direction. Packed tight into a plastic stroller meant for a small baby doll, Loretta pathetically looked up toward the camera. She was dressed in a play diaper, food stained bib, and looked miserable but accepting of her fate.
“Ams babbeh.” She said before her widdew mummah, a red-haired girl of perhaps six, sent the stroller sailing into a toy pile.
“Daring adventure.” The narrator is back.
Loretta took her battered, Goodwill-find Justin Bieber doll up in her furry limbs. Who could save her from this current threat? There was currently a tiny snake coiled up beside the pile of dirty laundry in the bathroom. This family hadn’t ever had a NEED for laundry hampers, God made floors for a reason.
“Huuhuu…nuuu…” She whimpered, staring to the munstah on the floor. It was just chilling out, flicking out it’s tongue on occasion.
Going to the toy chest in her mummah’s room, Loretta sorted through items until she found an Indiana Jones doll. Taking the hat off the figure, she transferred it to Justin Bieber and cradled him close.
“Otay, yew ams Stebe Ewin naow. Pwease sabe fwuffy.” She asked the doll in a quavering voice. Walking back to the bathroom, she set her doll up to a standing position. The little garden snake was still chilling out in there. Wobbling, her doll fell over which made the snake attack! It struck the doll’s face with it’s fangs and recoiled back.
“STEBE!” Loretta cried out in horror, but then his hat fall off. “JUSTEEN!”
The narrator has returned one last time. Oh good, he’s dropped the shitty put-on accent.
“Are you excited to see what happens on our newest episode of Trading Housies? Tune in this Sunday to see worlds collide!”
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Sat in the seat of a rusty old 1982 Chevrolet C10, Reina felt something like a shock. First of all, the smell. The inside of the cab smelled like a mixture of rotten old White Castle burgers, stale cigarettes, and old man aftershave. You know the sort: Plopped out of a beer bottle green Avon car vessel.
This place was filthy. Slim Jim wrappers nested on the floor in a greasy twist of plastic, snotty old tissues were stuffed into a crusty mess in the cupholders, and the windshield was covered with a thick nicotine sheen.
“Yucky pwace.” Whimpered the mare. Beside her, the young girl Betty Jo, rattled around on the trash on the floorboards. Yup, no buckles for anyone currently occupying the vehicle.
“Hell we ‘aint cushy round these parts.” Mumbled the driver of this vehicle, his words awfully hard to make out around the Pall Mall twinging against his lips. This guy was also gross. Unkempt facial hair, a sallow face with dusting of freckles, matted strawberry blonde which spilled out from beneath an Atlanta Braves baseball cap. He’d introduced himself as Cooter.
Perking up from the pile of trash on the floorboards, the little girl screamed “YEAH!”. Of course, immediately proceeding this, she reached out and tugged on a tuft of Reina’s pwetty fluff.
“Dummeh!” Reina screeched, giving an indignant flutter of both shimmering butterfly wings. This earned her a smack right in the kibblehole from Cooter. Now, he’d been given permission to use physical punishment as long as it didn’t permanently mark her up.
This was the first time EVER that Reina had been smacked. Or even punished. Standing there in a shocked silence, she didn’t even have the capacity to cry at the moment.
Meanwhile, Betty Jo had since acquired the truck’s lighter and was currently pressing the heated tube up against the fluffy’s cushion. A small fire sprouted up, and she’d proudly point it up to her daddy.
“Look! Burnies!” She said. Chuckling, Cooter took up a coffee cup and idly tossed the cold, moldy covered brew at the flames. Of course, Reina got some backsplash. There wasn’t much time to fret over that though. Turning, the gravel road turned to a…gravel driveway. Laid out in front of was the homestead for these two. Shitty trailer, overgrown yard filled with broken plastic toys, tires currently being used to breed a plague of mosquitoes in stagnant water.
Mouth twitching, wings drooping, Reina gave a small ‘Huu’.
++++
Meanwhile, Loretta was having a completely opposite experience. That dirty old pick-up truck didn’t hold a candle to her current carriage: A long white limosine that Alphonse the butler had set up a small ramp that she could walk up in order to enter.
“Hewwo. Ams Wowetta. Ams yew pengin?” She asked with eyes as big as dinner plates. Penguin? Daddeh? Never before had she seen someone like this.
Alphonse, ever consumate professional, gave a patient smile. An old figure among the wealthy family that this mare was going to, he was a mostly bald figure dressed in his black & whites. Bending down with a creak of his knees, he’d offer a hand clad in an immaculate glove to the fluffy.
“A penguin? Such an imagination but I’m afraid not. My name is Alphonse. I’ll be taking care of you.”
Looking down to offered hand, she had never shaken before. Well, she’d BEEN shaken plenty. Leaning in, she flapped her pink tongue up on his fingers. The butler didn’t pull away, instead letting her do whatever she wanted and allowing her to end the encounter.
“Ams Wowetta. Dank yew ‘fo bestest cawe.” Skittering into the limousine, she gasped. Wow! It was so big. Also, the seats were incredibly cushy. Bouncing up and down on one, she busied herself with having fun while Alphonse folded up the stairs and deposited it into the trunk.
Entering the vehicle, Alphonse set Loretta’s worldly goods down beside the fluffy. A plastic Piggly Wiggly bag which was filled with her various treasures: Justin Bieber doll, a clump of dirt from her muckies pile, and exactly 34 cents. This spare change was one of her greatest treasures. Of course, there’d been more than that but she had a habit of eating shiny things.
“Would you like a drink, Madam Loretta?” Inquired Alphonse, folding out a tray. An ice bucket was placed upon it along with several different sugary things that would no doubt appeal to fluffies. Tiny cans of soda pop, Capri Sun pouches, Little Hug fruit barrels. One thing in particular stood out to her though.
Gasp! Squeezit Chucklin’ Cherry. Of course, most fluffies hadn’t ever had this product before. It’d been discontinued in 2001, after all. Yet it was planted right in their brains. Something like ancestral memories. The twist-off bottles were precious, akin to their holy grail.
“Ams dat Sqeezit Chuckin’ Chewwy?” The mare was trembling on her comfortable seat. Blinking repeadtedly. Couldn’t be real life, could it?
Alphonse took one of the plastic bottles up and twisted off the bit of plastic, regarding her with a prim smile. “Exquisite taste, Madam. This is the finest vintage in fruit-flavored beverages. Would you like it straight or on ice?”
Accepting the plastic bottle from her new butler, Loretta tipped it back to her mouth and guzzled down the sweet red stuff. Dripping down her furry chin, she didn’t care how sloppy she was being. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Alphonse bent toward her, wiping off the sugary stuff with a monogrammed handkerchief.
“Welcome to the good life, Madam. I do hope you’ll enjoy it.”
++++
So this is what poor people lived like. After having climbed the rickety, rusted out stairs leading up to the front door of the trailer, Reina could only look on in profuse disgust.
This place was a complete disaster. First of all, the kitchen and living room were a singular location. Where did one begin and the other end? Unknown. Food trash was scattered all over the floor and this had to do with the fact that the only trashcan was overflowing. Mounds of unwashed dishes littered the sink area, flies buzzing around in a constant buzzing cloud.
“Yuckies…” The butterfly fluffy murmured, stepping over piles of dirty laundry. You thought it was contained to the bathroom? Nope.
Cooter pushed into the stairs after her, pointing to a litterbox full of poopies near the stove. “That there’s the shitter. Use it or I’ll rip you baldheaded.” With that, his contribution was over for now. Kicking trash out of his way and knocking his boots off, he sank down on a couch that sank low to the floor and flipped on the TV. A monster truck marathon was on and he’d sit there for five hours chainsmoking, drinking cheap beer, and yelling at commercials.
Looming over Reina, Betty-Jo bent down and cinched her arms around her plush abdomen. Dragging her up over to the litterbox, she kept trying to put the fluffy down into the mess.
“This is your poopies box, fluffy! This is where you go potty!” She babbled excitedly as if Reina had a head full of rocks. As if out of all things in the world she somehow wouldn’t understand what this was, as if it wasn’t like the first thing all fluffies learned.
Squaring her legs out, Reina kicked and fought so she wouldn’t be put down into the gross place. “Nuuu! Dun put Weina dewe! Ams diwty! Nu pwetty!” All the fighting didn’t amount to much though because she’d eventually have her precious hooves put down into the box. The smell of waste made nose wrinkle and tears rise to her eyes.
After a few moments of watching Reina and reiterating this was in fact where the potty was, Betty-Jo dragged her out by the nape of her neck in only the way a bratty kid with a pet could do.
“Urk!” She gasped out, feeling herself being dragged across the dirty linoleum. At this point she wasn’t even fighting it: Betty-Jo was just unnaturally rough with her toys.
“Let’s play! Let’s play! LET’S PLAY!” The girl shouted with glee, the scenery of the living room/kitchen changing to a hallway filled with what else but more piles of dirty laundry? While being dragged through it, Reina got sight of the bathroom. Which had carpeting because of course it did, and stank rankly of old urine and mildew.
Brought back into the girl’s bedroom, Reina gave a fretful twitter of her insectile wings. This place wasn’t much better than the rest of the house. Cereal, fruit snacks, and crackers were scattered on a mattress with sheets ripped off it to lay in frays at the corners. More of the food was peppered across the floor where it’d been smashed into fine powder or melted into the carpeting. Plenty of toys in here though most of them were broken or in various states of neglect, like piles of Barbie dolls which had their clothing removed and their heads of hair tugged off.
“Dis am wewe widdew mummah wib!?” Reina asked with a gobsmacked expression. It was so dirty! Forget about being poor: Even a fluffy of normal means would find this place a complete wreck, though most likely wouldn’t complain.
Betty-Jo nodded excitedly. “YEAH ITS MY ROOM! Lets play…Mcdonaws.” In the corner of the room was a play McDonald’s counter. Plastic foods like cheeseburgers and nuggets were there of course, but there was also many other items that she’d added to the collection.
Perking her ears up, Reina thought this was a really fun idea. Likely the only good thing she’d heard all day. “Otay. Weina wan tu make da nummies.”
Shuffling up to the big red workstation, the mare found herself flipped in an arcing spiral as Betty-Jo brattily sent a foot square into her poofy chest. All the wind wheezed out of her, breaths coming out in small hacks. Tears rose up in her eyes.
“Wry huwties Weina!? Am pwetty fwuffy! Am nice fwuffy!” she tried to protest. Even though she was in an enviroment that didn’t quite fit her standards, the fluffy was at least willing to TRY and have fun.
Betty-Jo crossed her arms. “I WANNA MAKE THE FOOD!”
Squealing as a plastic hamburger got thrown right at her eye, Reina shrank back against a pile of dirty clothing and gave a small ‘huu’.
++++
Hoofsies tip-tapping one the marble floor as she made her way into the chateau, Loretta gasped. This was the BIGGEST place she’d ever seen, ever! It was maybe even bigger than the OUTSIDE was, or so her tiny brain tried to comprehend.
“Ams dis weawwy a housie?” She asked with reverence in her voice. It was so clean. No dirty clothes piled everywhere, not a single gross fly-strip in site, it didn’t even smell like cigarette smoke. Having been born in a White Castles slider Crave Case, this was a far departure from what she was accustomed to.
Alphonse glanced down to the flurry as she skittered after him, stopping on occassion to sniff this or that. Boop furniture with her nose. “An estate. Come along, Madam.”
Up on the walls were portraits of stern looking men and women that looked as if they’d been cut from stone. Further along the hall, Loretta gasped.
There was a big cabinet full of nothing but awards and trophies! So much glittery metal and plush ribbons. It made Loretta sort of jealous. Why, she’d never won anything.
Noticing that the mare was interested in the awards, Alphone stopped his long stride and explained their reason for being there.
“Those are Reina’s many accomplishments. She’s a darling in the show fluffy world.” He mentioned, which was quite true. Famous enough to have featured in commercials for products that weren’t even directed at fluffies.
Perking up, Loretta recognized the name as being of the other fluffy she’d met briefly before coming here. “Ams Weena yew fwend?” She asked, causing Alphonse to chuckle.
“No comment.” Were his only words on the subject. Despite being delivered in his informal, flat tone there seemed to be something behind it that even a fluffy could pick up on.
Getting to the end of the hallway, they found themselves at a set of double-doors. Though there was a silver button with a tastefully engraved hoof print on it to cause the doors to slide open, he would work the bars and heft them to the side in order to allow his ward in.
“Ams dis da safe woom?” She asked, tail waving excitedly.
A smile from Alphonse. “Safe room? It’s the comfort palace.”
What lay in front of Loretta was a wonderland. An entire pool and grotto with lots of swimming toys, appropriately sized deckchairs for fluffies, and an artificial sun up ahead to make the whole area extra toasty.
One itty-bitty toy chest like what she had back at the trailer, to be shared with Betty-Jo? There were entire CLOSETS of them, each sealed behind a glass door that could be opened with one of those fluffy accessibility buttons. Battery powered vehicles, plushies galore, what was practically a warehouse of blocks. All sorted according to individual color and size. Yes, differently sized blocks!
Small cubbies full of snacks were set up. Salty, sweet, fresh fruit. All of it looked somewhat unfamiliar to Loretta but she went up to nuzzle one of the colorful packages with her snout, looking up to Alphonse pathetically as if to ask permission.
“All of this is yours during your stay.” He told her, helping the mare open up the foreign looking package. Snagging out a piece of salted and dried seaweed, she sucked on it for a moment before spitting it out with a ‘blech!’.
Looking amused, Alphonse glanced down to her. “Shall I prepare snacks befitting your tastes?” Already knowing what she’d enjoy: Small packets of pork rinds, canisters of spray cheese, colorful candies. This earned a nod from Loretta who stomped on the seaweed so that it wouldn’t be able to gross out any other innocent fluffy!
Something shiny caught Loretta’s eyes, which way saying a lot as there were many shiny things here. Waddling up to a row of three different fluffies in gemstone encrusted wooden boxes, she gave a tilt of her head.
There was a a blue unicorn stallion, a pink pegasus (she couldn’t tell because only her head was sticking out), and a bright red stallion. Each had a porcelain bowl sitting next to it, all of them refusng to look up.
“Fwends?” She asked, yet they still refused to glance up. Alphonse cleared his throat, wondering if she had never witnessed this sort of thing before.
“Ah, madame. These are the litter pals. They will help keep you clean after your…bathroom usage.” This wasn’t anything he agreed to. Purely something that Reina had demanded.
Confusion first crossed over Loretta’s first. What did that mean? Then it dawned on her. Pure disgust rolled through her little body, making her fur stand on it. “Dat ams suuuu gwoss! Nuuhuu! Hewp nyu fwends! Pwease Mistuh Awponzy! Pwease hewp!” Rattling her hooves against the crates with a grimace, she felt relief when her new butler agreed.
“It would be my pleasure, Madam.” Opening crates, he withdrew the sad little pillowed fluffies. Each didn’t want to look up even to this point. They’d be taken out lots of times when their areas needed cleaned. It was only when Loretta hugged each of them that brightness warmed their eyes for the first time in a long moment.
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Having arrived at the trailer home early enough in the morning, Reina had already been put through the ringer. ‘Playing’ with Betty-Jo was like being put through a gauntlet of torture. So far she’d been thrown around, had her tail and mane pulled constantly, been forced to eat some hairy Playdoh that was supposedly a ‘pizza’, and been forced to touch a bug. With her tongue!
At least now they were once more outside of the trailer. The inside of Cooter’s truck wasn’t much better in terms of hygiene, though the widdew mummah MUNSTAH was at least slightly less annoying with her father nearby.
“Wewe ams fwuffy goan?” The butterfly mare asked curiously, peeking out the window. Unlike before, there wasn’t any scrubby countryside to guide them along. Now the truck was ambling into one of those small towns most of us are familiar with: A Jiffy Lube, McDonalds, gas station. No Walmart in a town this small, you’d have to go to ‘The Big City’ for that.
“Nosey sunnabitch, ha’intya?” Was the reply from Cooter before pulling into the parking lot of a Piggly Wiggly. Yes, that’s right. The best supermarket on God’s green Earth. It wasn’t like he personally wanted to go shopping but those goddanged producers of this television show though it’d make for good content. Hell, he already had their ‘tree hunnert bucks.
Betty-Jo opened the door with great force and swept Reina right off her truck seat. Squealing, she went plopping to the ground. Luckily with no broken bones or other notable owwies. Looking up to the big sign laid out in front of her with it’s porcine mascot, she scurried to her hooves.
“Waow! Wub piggies! Am dis da piggy housie?” Rich as Hell or not, what fluffy didn’t love barnyard animals?
“Piggies!” Betty-Jo agreed stupidly, though she knew for a fact they did not technically have any.
Flicking his cigarette out onto the asphalt, Cooter shrugged. “Bacon, I guess. Chops. Those li’l…viennner sausitches. Think those are pig.”
What the Heck was he talking about? Not knowing and seriously not caring, she scuttled through the parking lot after them. Out front, there were big shopping carts and miniature ones designed for especially small children. How fun! Giving an elegant, sparkling flutter of her wings Reina would cinch behind one of the small ones and push it forward.
“Wook! Weina ams doin’ it!” Despite being hoity-toty, she really liked this kind of make believe play. It was fun! Why, she was putting up such a good effort to belong in this place.
That’s what she thought, anyways. But as we all know? Fluffies are not often rewarded even when they are putting their best hoof forward.
Betty-Jo was having none of this. The little cart was HERS! Winding her arm back, she punched Reina right in the eye. Of course a six year old wasn’t packing serious heat but she was just a widdew fluffy pony. Recoiling back from the cart, Reina looked up to her sadly.
“MINE!” Spat the young girl defensively, moving the cart back and fourth so that it’s wheel rattled back and forth.
Ears perking up, Reina noticed there were more little carts! They could both have one. Trotting up to one of the unoccupied trollies, Betty-Jo snatched her up by the tail and dragged her away from it. Tummy scraping against the bits of gravel and wrappers at the cart corral, the fluffy watched with a stupified expression as the human shoved both little carts together. Could she move both at once? Barely.
“Mine mine mine!” Betty-Jo screeched. Meanwhile, Cooter gave a low chuckle.
Walking into the shop, Cooter would talk to his daughter. “Yer just like yer mama. My God, I miss her every day.” Was that a tear coming to his eye? Just a bit. Men could cry, damn it.
“Ten years and we’ll have her back. I told that Waffle House waitress not to skimp on the syrup. Goddamn liberals.” He said, Betty-Jo beaming and seemingly happy to be ending up just like the psycho which had birthed her.
Well, she didn’t have a cart but it was fun to be inside of a store. Alphonse never let Reina out in public much except for endorsement appearances. It’s because her owners said no but…to be honest, the mare had never much met them. All of her memories were with the butler, not her mummah or daddeh. Just the foggiest of recollections stuck at the back of her thinky-pwace of those two people who supposedly loved her.
Never mind that though. Keeping pace with Cooter and his daughter, he watched them carry out their shopping. Four loaves of the cheapest white bread, some pasteurized American cheese product slices, a big-ass jug of pickled eggs. Two tubs of Country Crock margarine. Like 7 bottles of Big Red soda.
“Uhmm…Mistew Cooties daddeh? Dat nu am heawfy.” Reina tried to help out by offering her knowledge. Being as rich as she was, of course she had FluffTV+ which gave all sorts of good thinkies.
Looking down to her, Cooter threw out his hands. “What? Huh? You think I’m rich? Johnny Gottrocks? Mr. Rockefella? Well I’m not!”
Folding her ears, she tried to appeal to Bobby-Jo: “Yew wike vegebews? Cawwot an’ cown an’ bwoccwee?”
Still pushing her two carts clumsily along, the girl shook her head fiercely. “No! No! NOOOOO! No vegebews! DADDY!” She looked up to her father, who nodded. There would be nothing of the sort in his household. Though to shut the fluffy up, he dropped a giant box of potato flakes into the cart.
By the time they made it to the frozen food aisle, Reina was throughly bored of the shopping experience. At first it had been exciting but being around these two ground what little joy she found in things into dust. They were loud. Brash. Rude. Betty-Jo had no problem sticking her hand into the bulk candy bin and taking some out which was STEALING.
Looking up to the selections of pizza, Lean Cuisines, and frozen burritos? Well, at first Reina didn’t feel much at all. This wasn’t stuff for her. After all, Alphonse made sure she was fed well with the top of fluffy cuisine. Healthy stuff!
Then something grabbed her attention. Bright blue box. Rainbow colored unicorn with a princess castle. This was a Kid Cuisine Level Up meal! It came with macaroni bites, cheese sauce, french fries, li’l blue cookie things.
Marching up to the cool case and somehow getting it open using only her snoot, Reina nabbed the box out and plopped it out on the floor.
“Weina wan Kid Cwzeen!” She demanded. Being nice hadn’t worked so far. What had it done for her? All it’d gotten her was being pushed around, demeaned, yelled at. Well if they didn’t want Missus Nice Fwuffy, they were going to get the mean one!
Cooter was busy loading up 20 Banquet pot pies into the cart. Stopped. Looked confused as Hell. “What in t’world is a Kid…whassit?”
Kicking the TV dinner over to her nyu daddeh with a look of confidence in her eyes, Reina flared her nostrils and stamped her hoof on the floor. “Dis. Dis am Kid Cwzeen. An’ Weina am gettin’ it.”
Stooping down to pick it up, he whistled. Golly, what would they think of next? “Betty-Jo, yon want this?” He asked his precious daughter, who was busy taking chimichangas out of the freezer and throwing them all over the floor.
“Yes! I want it! But Weina doesn’t get one because SHE’S STINKY!”
Mouth agape, Reina shook her head furiously. Her antennae bobbed with the motion, flicking around a bit. “Nu! Nu am stinkee! Yews am stinkee! Biggest stinkee dummeh babbeh!”
Sticking her tongue out at the child (whose face was covered in stolen chocolate), the mare didn’t even care anymore. If she wanted to be mean, she could be doubly mean!
Betty-Jo teared up. Looked up to her daddy, who was still marveling over the fact that Kid Cuisine merely existed. Catching on that something had happened, he sent his boot squarely against Reina’s ribcage.
Sailing through the air after having all the air knocked out of her lungs, the fanciful Chrysalis fluff fluttered her beautiful wings uselessly before crashing into a display of jarred Maraschino cherries at the aisle cap.
Jars fell all around her with great big smashes, sending cherries flying everywhere. Shards of glass covered her, and sticky sweetness seeped into her fluff. It was hard to make sense of what was going on.
“Wry…?” She asked pitifully, tears rolling down her eyes. A cameraman got close to capture every moment of it. Looking to him sadly, Reina expected it help but none came.
Eventually a bored teenager would roll up with a wet floor sign, propping it up next to the mess. Beginning to mop up both the fluffy and the bits of debris.
“Hol’ on, the critter’s with us.” Cooter said. Giving a shrug, the teenager angled his mop against Reina’s tummy and sent her sailing down the aisle toward the pair, leaving a sticky trail in her wake.
Fur now covered in dirt, dead buggies, and old band-aids Reina for the first time in a long time in her life felt unpretty. That feeling was so shocking to revisit again. So incredibly jarring.
Retching, she threw up on the floor. There was only one thing to do now. It was drastic, but she had to.
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This is a commission for @Toofy, who was incredibly generous (as well as very patient) with me. I hope you found part 1 of this story enjoyable. More soon. Thanks again to Toofy and thank you to anyone reading.
