Weekend Invasion part 1, by: WolfmanRaven

** Long time lurker. First time poster. Comments welcome, as well as critiques. Wrote this at 230AM, so bear with the grammar and possible lack of scene set up. My apologies**

Friday, finally. Jon sighed heavily as he shut the door to his Jeep and walked to his front door. As he walked in he could hear his fluffy, Blue, babbling to her stuffy friends. He walked to the safe room, opened the door and was greeted by a very excited fluffy. Blue had a silver/gray mane and prussian blue fluff. For the most part, she was a good fluffy. Only got the sorry stick twice since getting her from a reputable breeder and that was for bad poopies. After that, she was a model pet. Easy to care for and love.

After listening to her stories of the day for a few minutes, Jon picked her up and walked to the kitchen. It was Friday and that meant “sketties!” and a movie.

After eating, watching a movie, and a bath, it was bedtime. Jon tucked Blue into her bed, a pile of soft blankets and a couple small pillows, and gave her a peck on her forehead.

“Daddeh?”

“Yes, Blue?”

“Wut we doin tomowwoww?”

“I’ve got some yard work to do, but that means you get to play outside for a while. It’s supposed to be really nice out.”

“Yaayy!! Bwue wuvs outside. Buh, Bwue sweepy daddeh. Can wait for tomowwow. Nite daddeh.”

“Night, Blue. Sleep well.”

Jon clicked off the light in the safe room. The unicorn night light clicked on so Blue wouldn’t lose it in the middle of the night if she had to make poopies or peepees. Jon did NOT want a repeat of that lesson. Smiling, Jon went to his bedroom and eventually was fast asleep himself. He dreamed peacefully, unaware of the doom that waited outside his backyard.
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Morning came too quick and Jon wanted to stay in bed. Blue, on the other hand was wide awake and waited until about 830am to call for him from the hall. Jon pulled his lazy bones from the memory foam mattress and put on clothes. He went to the kitchen, while Blue followed behind with her endless, perky chatter. Jon adored her, but he wasn’t a morning person and he needed at least 2 cups of caffeine before the urge to choke her was abated. He would never hurt her; ever. She could just grate his nerves in the morning.

Jon was on his 2nd cup when he opened the patio door to let Blue outside. She jumped and exclaimed how “bootifuww it was.”

Jon left the door opened a crack so he could hear her, in case she got into trouble like all fluffies tend to. He will never forget the screaming of bloody murder when she got stung by a bee on her nose. You thought she had lost a limb or something. Blue was smart, in that she learned after a bad incident, not to do it again.

Jon washed his cup and a few dishes when an eerie feeling came over him. He didn’t hear Blue outside. Normally he would hear her singing or talking to the buggies or the birdies, but nothing. It was too quiet.

Jon felt a pit form in his stomach. He put a pair of shoes on and walked out on the deck. “Blue,” he called. No answer.

“Blue!”

Still nothing. He stepped into the yard, scanned by his shed, which she never went near, but just in case. He then walked toward the large oak tree in his corner. He looked to his left and right, thinking she may be hiding in the bushes…maybe playing hide and seek. 'that’s not like Blue," he thought.

He was about to see if she did go near his shed, when he saw it. A small tuft of blue fluff and a silver tail around the right side of the tree. Jon bolted to Blue. He picked her up.

“Blue?!? Blue! Answer me! Blue!?!”

Her body was slack, she wasn’t breathing. Her nose was bloodied and she was covered in some sticky substance. It was on her mouth, her eyes and her “special place.” Jon inhaled hard. He stood up and carried her lifeless body to his deck. He laid her down and covered her body with a towel. His jaw clenched. He knew. He knew what had happened. His sweet little Blue paid the price for his negligence.

Jon stood in silence, seething and holding back tears. That’s when he heard it. The worst sound any human could hear, especially right now.

“Dummeh hoomin! Guh wai! Dis’ hewd wand nao. Smahwty find dis wand for hewd. It smahwty wand!”

Jon’s blood boiled. He felt the pain and rage swell. He inhaled deeply and exhaled while turning toward the smarty.

He looked down with cold eyes. The smarty was a pink colored unicorn. Yellow mane. Behind him, flanking both sides were 2 stallions. One red with a black mane, the other purple with a green mane. His toughies Jon assumed. His eyes scanned the rest of the herd. Most were orange or yellow, with manes of blue, green or pink. There were 2 mares with 3 foals each on their back. 3 more stallions. 1 soon mummah and another fluffy hiding in the bush line against the fence. That must be where they got in. He couldn’t see the last fluffy well enough to know the gender or color, but that wasn’t about to matter shortly.

Jon knelt down to the smarty. His pink fluff was covered in dirt, twigs and shit. Typical feral. Jon leaned toward the smarty who just puffed his cheeks a they all did.

With ice in his voice, Jon asked, “What happened to the nice blue colored fluffy that was out here?”

“Dummeh hoomin weabe nao or get wowstest huwdies,” the smarty yelled.

Jon stared directly into the smarty’s eyes. The smarty backed up a bit, but still puffed his cheeks. He repeated his question, with a slight growl, but didn’t yell.

“What happened to the blue colored fluffy that was out here?”

Jon’s stare never left the smarty’s.

“Dummeh mawe towd smarty nu speshaw huggies. Suh smahwty take whut smarty want. Tuffies too. Dhey keep dummeh mawe from yelling. Tuffies git speshaw huggies too. Mawe gib good fewws buh stop mwovin. Dummeh bwue fluffy. Nu wike,” the smarty said very matter of fact.

A vein engorged on the side of Jon’s shaved head. His glare got icier and he stood up.

“So. Basically you and your toughies fucked her to death.”

“Dummeh mistah. Gib nummies to hewd ow guh way!”

Jon looked at the herd. His rage fueled ideas. Ideas that would avenge his Blue. His sweet, little Blue who enjoyed sunshine, baths and movie night with sketties. She loved her daddy and he loved her. He would right this wrong. Oh, how he would balance the scales on these feral little shit rat monsters.

Jon turned away from the smarty and his herd. He walked back over to the deck, picked up Blue’s body, keeping it covered in the towel and walked in to his house.

Jon walked back out to the herd. He inhaled and said, " Well, since you’ve proved how tough you are, I’m going to give you all sketties."

The herd went wild at the mention of the divine fluffy food.

“SKETTIES?!?! YAAY, SKETTIES!! SMAHWTY AM BESTEST SMAHWTY EBAH!”

Jon wanted to just slaughter all of them right then and there, but he was far more devious than that. He was going to draw this out. Their pain will be far greater than Blue’s. They will suffer. The smarty and his toughies will know what Hell feels like.

Jon walked over to the mares.

“Hello. May I see your babies?”

Jon knelt down and reached his hand out. One of the mares, an orange with yellow mane snapped her jaws at him.

“Nu gu neaw babbehs! Dummeh hoomin.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to see if they were healthy and wanted sketties.”

“Dummeh mistah! Babbehs too smaww for sketties. Onwy dwink miwkies fwom mummah!”

Jon cooked his head and said, “Ok.”

“Well, why don’t you all stay right here while I go make sketties for everyone, alright?”

“YESH! Gib sketties dummeh ow smahwty gib bigges huwties!”

“Of course.”

Jon went into his kitchen. He had a 6 pack of Ramen and some sauce. His plan was formulated while talking with the mares. He smiled as he boiled the Ramen and heated the sauce. Time for the special ingredient. An entire bottle of Miralax. He knew fluffies could be pure shit factories and he was going to make their sketties the worst shits they’ve ever had.

When it was all done he walked out with the sketties in a big disposable tin pan. He set the sketties down and the herd went wild. Literally jumping over each other to get the ever sought after fluffy prize.

Jon reached down and stopped the smarty with his hand. “Hold up. Since your the smarty and such a great leader, I have special sketties just for you.”

The smarty puffed his cheeks again and stated, “GIB SMAHWTY SKETTIES NAO, DUMMEH! GIT MY SPESHAW SKETTIES! SMAHWTY DESEWB DHEM NAO!”

“It’s cooking right now. I had to make yours separate. It will make you even smarter and has to be cooked just right or it won’t work,” Jon said in his fakest sweet tone. Hiding the pure rage firing through his blood.

“HMPH! GU GIT SKETTIES!”

Jon noticed that the herd was busy on the sketties. He smirked as he walked over to his shed, pulled the kiddie pool out from behind it and covered the whole herd with it.

“DAWKIES!! NU WIKE!”

“NUUUUU! NU WIKE DAWKIES!”

“SMAHWTY HEWP! IS DAWK!”

Jon looked down at the smarty, whose face started to look panic stricken. It looked back at him, puffed those damn cheeks again and stomped his front hooves.

“WET HEWD GU NAO STOOPY HOOMIN! SMAHWTY GIB BIGGES HUWTIES IF OU DON WET DHEM GU!”

“No.”

“DUMMEH MISTAH WET HEWD GO NAO!”

“Mmmm…nope.”

The smarty then charged at him. Jon knew how this would play out. The smarty rammed his shin, hit him with his hooves and bucked him with his hind legs. Jon yawned and watched, slightly bemused, but was a little sore from the smarty’s horn getting a good couple pokes in.

The smarty then turned around and lifted his tail. Jon stepped back and to the side.

“SMAHWTY GIB YOU SOWWIEST POOPIES!”

The smell was rancid as the smarty shot a geyser of diarrhea at Jon. Jon had to turn his head and cover his nose, else he was going to vomit.

The smarty turned to where he thought Jon was standing. Expecting to see a stupid human covered in his sorry poopies. The smarty’s face was in shock when he saw Jon standing there, smiling and waving, not covered in his poopies.

“WHU? DUMMEH HOO…UHRRHHKK!”

The smarty was cut off by Jon’s hand on his throat. He lifted the disgusting shit ball to meet his gaze.

“You. Are going to regret ever stepping foot in my yard you my little pony reject twat fuck!”

The smarty’s eyes got wide and he let loose a torrent of scaredy poopies and pee. Some of the piss got on Jon’s shoe. Jon’s grip tightened and he sneered at the smarty.

“This is going to hurt. You will beg me for death. I will not give you that mercy.”

Jon carried the fluffy toward his shed. The little shit monster’s nightmare was just beginning.

END PART 1

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The raaage

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You have no idea…

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hoooo boy that smarty’s gonna get it

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FUCKING KILLLLL THE SMARTIE

Is his fluffy okay or is she dead

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Corrected a couple spelling errors. Wrote this late and on my phone, bloody autocorrect…

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All I have to say is " Bad Enfies gonna lead to your fucking slow death with having to be awake and alive to go through it"

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I am a personal fan of flaying (It’s a lost art really), making live peking, gribbeting (those iron cages you put people in during the medieval eras), the breaking wheel. OH JUST TO MANY TO CHOOSE FROM!

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As long as the smarty dies last, to witness the wrath he has wrought, I will be content.

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PILLOW THE RAPISTS

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Rape the rapist

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PART 2 IS POSTED!

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A Suitable punishment could be pillowing followed by fun times with large stallion (feral or adopted) hopped up on viagra and testosterone.

Why stick at one? Get a couple of em.

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Poor blue,thats the prob with feral especially with shitty smarties :grimacing:

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Still better than mine lol.

Make them PAY for their crimes against poor innocent blue give them the retribution they deserve!