You are Smarty, the leader of a large herd living in the treeplace. You have many special friends and many toughies, because you’re the best and prettiest fluffy! You have dark green fluff and a neon blue mane, and the biggest and sharpest horn any fluffy has ever seen. It makes all the mares swoon, and beg to be your special friend. Not that you really care. When you want special huggies, you get them. That’s what being smarty is all about!
Today you were giving special huggies to one of the uglier mares, a blue and grey earthie. She was crying, and it was really killing the mood, so you shoved her head into the grass to shut her up. Why did mares always have to be so ungrateful? Doesn’t she know she’s getting the best special huggies from the best fluffy?
“Smawty!” One of your scouts busted into the small clearing the herd lived in. “Munstahs!”
“Enf, enf, enf, nu intewupt, enf, enf, enfies!” You grunted.
“Sowwy smawty…” The yellow pegasus muttered, looking away.
“Enf, enf, enf, ENF, ENF, ENFENFENF GUUUUD FEEEEEWWWSSS!” You cried, arching your back and depositing your load into the miserable mare. Pulling yourself off of her, you patted her on the back. “Guud fo mawe tu?”
She just cried into the grass. You rolled your eyes. Stupid mares.
“Uhm, Smawty, Spawwow see munstahs eatin twees…” Sparrow said.
“Wha kinda munstahs eat twees?” You asked, incredulous.
“Spawwow nu kno. Jus see, wun and teww Smawty.”
“Hm.” Tree eating monsters… you weren’t a tree, so they probably weren’t a threat to you or your herd. “Teww Spowk, take toughies and gu watch.” Spork was one of your best toughies. She was a mare, and it really confused you when she said she wanted to be a toughie but she had really proven herself. She was almost as strong as a stallion, and almost as smart as you!
“Otay!” Sparrow darted off to go gather your toughies.
It was hard work being Smarty, you had to make all the smart decisions for the rest of the dummy fluffies. You decided to wander over to the nummie pile and see if there were any of those good berries left. You liked the purple ones best.
“BIGGEST POOPIES!” rang out into the clearing, and a good number of your herd jumped to their feet to run to the noise. Not you though. What did you know about birthing babies? You liked to make them and you liked having them around to make your herd bigger but birthing them was for mares. Mares knew how to handle that stuff, and if they didn’t they were stupid and didn’t deserve to be having babies anyway. You managed to find a small branch of berries and took your time munching them, really savoring the juice. You’d have to send out another party looking for these.
When you were out of berries you decided to see how the birth went. Most of the babies in the herd were yours, save for a few of the uglier mares you let be special friends with some of your toughies. The mare place was a hollow in a rotting log lined with soft leaves, and you shouldered your way through the crowd.
“Spechow fwend! Wook!” The new mother, a young mare named Lilly, pointed at the foals. “Babbehs!”
You did have a favorite mare, Lilly here, a new acquisition you managed to take from another herd. She was easy to convince to run away, her fluffy daddy told her she was too young for a special friend. You knew better, of course you knew better! You were a smarty after all, and she smelled like a mare to you! You declared her your special friend and off she went to join your herd. She was pregnant quickly, as all the mares in your herd were, and it was annoying to not be able to enf her but you got over it. She explained that these would be the bestest babies, ones that would take after you and become smarties of their own! The idea of having babies that you could raise into proper little smarties made your chest swell with pride, and for the first time you were excited to be a daddy.
“Wha babbeh am bestest?” You asked, looking over the litter.
“…Nu babbeh am bestest, aww babbehs guud babbeh siwwy.” Lilly replied.
You scoffed. Dummy mare. “Hab bestest wite hewe.” You scooted a dark green foal out of the pile with your hoof. “Wook just wike daddeh!”
“Buh-”
“Wiwwy am siwwy sometiems,” you cut her off, “Smawty sho yu how tings wowk.”
“Buh hab uddah babbeh-”
“Wisten to Smawty wen tawkies.” You said firmly, puling your son towards you. “Smawty knu dese tings an-” The green foal rolled over with a peep, revealing an identical one sleeping behind it.
“…Wiwwy twy say, hab twu babbehs dat cowwow…” she muttered.
…Huh. You didn’t know what to do here. Of course the bestest baby would be the one that looked like you, but if there were two… hm.
“Mummah hab twu miwky pwaces, feed dese babbehs fiwst.” You scooted the foals back towards her.
“Buh spechow-”
“Nu buh!” you snapped. “If mummah gun be dummeh an awgue wif Smawty den Smawty gunna find bettah mummah tu take cawe of babbehs!”
“…otay…” Lilly squeaked, hiding behind her hooves.
You stomped out of the mare place. What were you going to do, with two bestest babies? Only one of them would be able to be smarty, and if you let them both one of them might take some of the herd to make his own! And he could take your mares! You puffed your cheeks at the very thought. You needed to figure out which baby was the best and then punish the lesser one for trying to impersonate your bestest son.
A small smile spread across your lips as you looked out at the clearing. A memory of something you hadn’t had to do in a very long time, something you could do now. With a spring in your step you started gathering materials.
“Smawty, Spowk am bak.” She said, standing behind you.
“Not nao dummeh.” You were carefully arranging branches into a circle in the middle of the clearing.
“It am impowtant.”
You groaned. “Wha den?!”
“Munstahs eat twees-” the grey mare started.
“Smawty knu! Spawwow say!” You waved her off with a hoof. “If dummeh mawe nu kno den-”
“Munstas eat aww da twees. Cumin fo hewd.” She finished.
You stared down at the small arena you’d made, adjusting the twigs on one side to make it more circular. You had done this before, when toughies fought over mares, but it had been quite a while. If your fighters were going to be so small they needed a smaller space to fight in.
“Dat am bad.” Spork said coolly. “Nu twees means no homsie.”
You felt the gears in your head grind to life. “Nu twees?
“Nu if munstahs cum. Hewd shud mobe. Soon.”
You glared at her. “An Spowk jus teww Smawty dis nao?!”
Spork sighed. “Sowwy Smawty, Spowk be bettah.”
“Yu shud.” You jabbed her chest with your hoof. “Smawty nee fin bestest babbeh, and den Smawty deaw wif munstah.”
“…Yu woose babbeh?” she asked.
You groaned and stomped off to the mare place. You did not have time to explain everything you did to every stupid fluffy in the herd. Why couldn’t they just listen to you? Just do what they’re told and get it over with?? Maybe your bestest son would be able to get these stupid fluffies in line.
“Wiwwy bwing babbehs.” You ordered.
She looked up from her brood. “Whewe?”
“Jus bwing!” You shouted, and she flinched. You glared as she started gathering the babies up. Why was it so hard to get some basic obedience? All you wanted was your fluffies to follow your orders with no thoughts as to their needs or safety, was that too much to ask?
You led Lilly out to the tiny arena, with a small crowd of fluffies following behind. You snatched the first of the green foals and set him in the circle, and the fluffies gathered gasped.
“Smawty gun make babbehs fite?!” a pink mare you never remembered the name of asked.
“Smawty nee fin bestest babbeh, bestest babbeh gub wowstest huwties to dummeh babbeh.” You grabbed the second foal in your teeth.
“Nu, pwease!” Lilly wailed. “Babbehs tu widdwe!!”
You set the other foal down a hoof space from his brother. “Shaddup! Smawty nu bestest!”
Lilly wailed into the hooves of the pink mare as the rest of your herd whispered uncomfortably to themselves. You watched intently as the green foals peeped and chirped, lifting their heads and sniffing around.
“Gu! Gib huwties!” You cheered.
The right foal continued chirping and flailing its hooves, while the left foal started to scoot itself forward. Yes, there was potential! He knew what he needed to do and went for it! Ambition!
“Pwease, nu huwt bwuddah!” Lilly cried, “Babbeh am fo huggies an wub!”
“SHADDUP!” you snapped, stomping your hoof. You would deal with her when your sons were done. If sorry hoofsies didn’t straighten her out you would find a better mare to raise your bestest baby.
The left foal had reached his brother and sniffed his leg intently. With baited breath you watched as he closed his toothless mouth around his brothers hoof.
“Yus! Gib bities!” You cheered, stomping your hooves in rhythm.
The left foal released his brothers hoof and began to snuggle up to him. You watched him slowly climb on top of him, his distressed brother starting to calm.
“Bestest babbeh win!” You cheered. “Wowstest babbeh gib up!!!” You picked up the top foal, hugging him to your chest. “Yu am bestest, gun be bestest smawty!”
You handed him back to Lilly, who snatched him away. “Mummah so sowwy babbeh, nu wan huwties.”
“Wowstest babbeh twy twick Smawty!” You cried, lifting your hoof over the ugly green foal. “Nu wub! Gu foebah sweepies!”
Lilly began to wail louder, and you raised your hoof for a stomp when a horrible roar rang out into the treeplace.
“MUNSTAHS!” your herd yelled, running in all directions.
“SHADDUP!” you yelled back at them, puffing your cheeks. “Smawty gu deaw wif munstah, den wowstest babbeh!” You huffed and stomped off into the trees towards the noise. Stupid monster, didn’t it know you were busy?
Spork jogged up next to you as you marched between the trees. You didn’t say anything to her, you had quite enough of mares today, thank you very much. You don’t know what it is about not having special lumps that just makes a fluffy lose all sense. Didn’t Lilly see the importance of having a best baby? How did you know which one to feed first? Which one always gets its way? Stupid, thats what she is. You raise foals thinking they’re all equal, they start asking why they need to listen to their mummah, or their smarty. Then you have anarchy, fluffies eating whenever they want, picking their own special friends, not doing what they’re told! That’s no way for a fluffy to live.
The treeplace ended a lot sooner than you expected it to, and you found yourself blinking in bright sunlight. All around you were big metal monsters, yellow and black with big round hooves.
“Dese awe munstahs, Smawty. Spowk nu tink-”
“HEY!” You yelled at the nearest one. “WHEWE AM YU SMAWTY, SMAWTY WAN TAWK.”
The monster didn’t reply, just stared down at you with its weird clawed face.
“SMAWTY AM TAWKING TU YU!” You shouted, puffing your cheeks.
“Smawty…” Spork muttered.
“SHADDUP! NU NEE YU!” you snapped at her, and she quickly jogged back into the trees.
You heard a rumbling, and one of the monsters was slowly making its way towards you. It wasn’t the biggest, but it had a giant round hoof at the front of its body and big bright eyes looking right at you. It was the best looking of the ugly monsters, so it must be the smarty!
“Dewe yu awe! Took foebah to get sumwun to tawk to! Yu am on Smawty’s wand!”
The monster continued its low rumble, getting closer and closer.
“Dis am Smawty’s wand,” you repeated, “an Smawty say munstah’s gu way! Nu eat Smawty’s twees!”
The monster rumbled onward.
“Am munstah stupid?” You asked. “GU WAY. SMAWTY NU WAN YU HEWE.” You puffed your cheeks as the monster grew closer and closer, you couldn’t see its bright eyes anymore, just the giant rolling hoof. “NU STAND SU CWOSE, SMAWTY WAN-”
With a crunch the giant metal hoof rolled over your body, and you were no more.
Continued in this.