Unfinished Business: Part 1, By Meta-Narrative

Part 1: Fool’s Errand

Yeah you sure a fuck just heard a fluffy. Not just any fluffy, a smarty and his herd. Herds and herd dynamics were things you were unable to study but you had access to the internet so when the herd phenomenon was established you had already heard of it… no pun intended. You got up from under your truck and glanced back to the trees in the back of the yard. Behind this lot was a straight up forest, no good fencing to really keep anything out. Too late now. Your eyes jumped to a bright shade of yellow. A neon yellow stallion to be exact trotting at a steady but slow by fluffy standards pace towards me. Something about his trot just wasn’t right and when he got closer I started to piece things together as a few sounds came into hearshot.

“Nuuuuuuuuu, peeep, peeeeeeeep, chirp, chirp, peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEP”

That was unmistakably the sounds of a distressed foal but you didn’t see a foal, all you saw was a neon yellow stallion who was already puffing his cheeks out and as he did the peeping and chirping got slightly more distressed and loud.

“PEEEEE-PeEeeeeEP-PEEEEEP”

“Dis am smawty-land nao dummeh, gib housie an sketties an toysies an teebee an…”

His ranting became just white noise to you as you honed in on the sounds of terror you could still hear seemingly from a foal. Then you squatted down to take a closer look at the stallion and you saw it. The source of the foal screams.

This sick bastard had a foal, dark red, maybe almost a wealing, on his dick. He wasn’t actively partaking in intercourse but the foal was still on his disco stick like it was some kind of cock-sock. You had encountered subversive behavior in these things before but this was something you had never even thought about. The lack of morality was something that you had thought your team had curbed. Guess not.

Other fluffies started to gather, quite a few of them actually. You knew that they reproduced at a fairly quick rate but this many this far away from the man-made trappings that they are hardwired to love was still odd. More and more came out as the smarty continued his incoherent ramblings, most likely having simply restated the same demands a number of times like a broken piece of analog hardware, replaying the same thing over and over. Your guess was there were at least 17 adults, maybe twice as many weanlings and adolescents, who knew how many foals as there was no way you could even see most of them.

“Hey”

“An good nummies for soon-mu- wat dummeh say?”, the smarty had gotten caught up in his rant and almost forgot why he was ranting.

“Do you know that having a foal on your “no-no stick” is a bad thing?”

“Smawty nu cawe, take enfie-babbeh fwom not-as-pwetty mawe. Smawty get wat smawty wan, smawty wan enfies all da time, smawty get enfi- babbeh for all-da-time enfies.”

“Ah I see, isn’t there plenty of food out in the forest, why do you need to come here?”

“Fowest not have enuf gud nummies fo hewd. Nee sketti fo’ hewd, make hewd bestest hewd!”

“Well when you say it like that how could I refuse?”, the stallion’s eyes started to glow with anticipation, he had never had skettis before but he bet they were even better than an “enfie-babbeh”. You had no intention of giving him any pasta you were sickened by him. However in that moment you had a thought. You were basically a bum slinging drugs to get by. Fluffy ponies caused your downfall and you know they are still unfinished. You didn’t have CRISPR but you did have a knowledge of selective breeding. This was it, you could right your and Habio’s wrongs and clear your name. You have literally no other prospects. This could be inexpensive, time consuming but if successful it could change your life, this time for the better.
With that last flash of cognition you grabbed the stallion by the back of his neck with his mane.

“Nuuuuu! Bad upsies! Dummeh hooman nu gib smawty bad upsEEEEEEEIIIIISSS!!!” He was screaming bloody murder but you didn’t care. You turned the stallion so his belly was facing you as you gently took hold of the foal and slid it off the stallion’s penis. A filly. It was hurt but not mortally wounded, although certainly scarred from the whole affair. You placed her on the back of a mare near you who seemed to have not taken her eyes off the foal. The mare cried softly and nuzzled the babbeh in her fluff.

“GIB BACK ENFIE BABBEH! SPECIOU WUMPS WUWT WHEN NO ENFIES!” Perhaps this guy had an overactive sex drive, or maybe he was a selfish cunt.

“Nah, you get something better” I said as I pulled out my buck knife ,the handy thing is just always good to have around. I slammed him into the found belly-up with a clear view of his genitals. I put my left palm on the pony’s stomach as I moved in closer with the knife.

“NuuuuuUUUUUUUUU! No huwt wumps!!! NEE WUUUUUUMPS!!! NEE NO-STICK!!!”

He struggled as best as he could, flinging his limbs around impotently, screaming to high heaven. You roughly jabbed your knife into the stallion’s testicles.

“screEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”

You had no intention of making this clean, you shook your knife around as it ravaged the smarty’s balls until they were unrecognizable. You then took advantage of the shock the stallion had gone into in order to sever his dick in one clear go. He lay there a babbling mess for a few minutes. The rest of the herd was shocked and there were yells and screams but they had nowhere to go without a smarty leading them and the danger had not reached them, just their leader. You took the sobbing mess of a stallion and held it up like you did before.

“This is what an idiot looks like, a fool, not worthy to lead anyone!” I really turned up the drama for this.

“Nuuuuu, bu-bu smawty am smawty…huuuu”

You may have hated him but you was no sadist… yet at least. You took his head in my hands and swiftly snapped his neck. His body fell limply to the ground and you addressed the rest of the herd.

“I’m willing to help you but fluffies like this will NOT do.”

You started hearing cries of “nyu daddeh?”, “babbeh wub nyu daddeh”, and “fwuffy am gud fwuffy! Fwuffy get daddeh!”. It turns out that no matter how much these ferals have deviated from the lab the heavy programming was still there. They were completely slaves to human interaction.

You need a plan and some semblance of infrastructure. That will have to wait, you have an “appointment” over in West Lake and money doesn’t grow on trees.

Next Chapter

35 Likes

Yessss… I approve, please continue?

2 Likes

Would’ve loved more shame for the smarty

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Exactly what I was thinking. Like kept him around to make an example of what happens to Smarty’s.