A pink mummah and her two foals arrive on my back porch one day while I’m having a cigarette.
“Hewwo wady! Am Winnie! Am wookin’ fo’ nyu housie fo’ Winnie an’ babbehs!”
One foal is a fat purple filly named Grapey. The other is an orange colt named Peaches.
I take them in and try not to get emotionally attached. I give them basic food, leftovers from the fridge and whatnot.
“Winnie and babbehs wuv nyu mummah an nyu housie!”
I observe them and notice the way that although Grapey is clearly the bestest babbeh, Winnie gives equal love and affection to Peaches. This is a healthy fluffy family, but that doesn’t matter to me. I need my fix.
I tell Winnie one day that Peaches has gone missing, and that a scary monster is now pretending to be him. I point her in the direction of Peaches, who is sleeping next to Grapey, his sister. I tell her about shapeshifters and how a monster has taken the place of Peaches.
“P-Peaches am munstah babbeh?”
I convince her that the only way to get her real babbeh back is to kill the impersonator. After some reassurance, she stomps him to death as Grapey still sleeps.
“SCREEEEEEEEE! Why mummah give wowstest huwties to Peaches?”
“Yu nu am Peaches! Yu munstah babbeh!”
With Peaches dead, I tell her the truth with a smile on my face. She just gave her bestest babbeh forever sleepies because she was dumb enough to believe my stories.
“Huu-huu… am dummeh mummah… am wowstest mummah evah…”
After disposing of what was left of Peaches, I turn my focus to Grapey. She’s nursing from her mummah who is singing her special mummah songs.
“Mummah wuv babbeh, babbeh wuv mummah…”
The sight only fills me with immense rage and reminds me of what I never received growing up. I pluck Grapey off of her mummah’s milkie place, bracing myself for a barrage of peeping.
“Huh? Why mummah take Gwapey? Gwapey need bestest miwkies to gwow big an’ stwong!”
“Don’t worry, Winnie, come with me, you’ll wanna see this.”
She follows as I bring Grapey to my workshop in the garage. I put Winnie to sleep with a stun gun to make sure I’m not interrupted, then put her in a box to restrict her movement. I stick Grapey to a glue trap on the workbench and wake Winnie up, who is now crying for her bestest babbeh, helpless and unable to move. I turn on my camcorder to record the following moments. Can’t waste the opportunity to not only immortalize the moment, but also make bank from selling the footage online. Fluffy snuff flicks are all the craze these days.
I bring in a toolbox and retrieve a power drill from it.
“SCREEEEEEEE! NUUUUUUU! NU HUWT BESTEST BABBEH GWAPEY!”
“Mummah! Hewp! Pwease, nyu mummah! Nu giv Gwapey huwties! Am onwy widdwe babbeh!”
Grapey looks into my eyes, feeling betrayed that the nice woman who gave her a new home was now about to seal her fate.
I plunge the power drill into her left eye and do the same with her right. I’m careful to not put the drill in too deep, just enough so it mangles her eyes without killing her.
Needless to say, all that can be heard are shrieks and peeps from the helpless mummah and her bestest babbeh.
Grapey inevitably shits all over the workbench, so of course I scoop it up and shove it in her mouth.
I retrieve a pair of pliers from the toolbox and slowly twist Grapey’s limbs, breaking each bone in several different places before finally tearing them off. I yank her tongue out as well. I also stick the pliers in her poopie place to mutilate her insides.
With a scalpel, I cut a large portion of skin from Grapey’s tummy, then pour salt and bleach on the exposed tissue.
For the grand finale, I fill a syringe with drain cleaner and pump it into Grapey’s veins. The results are hard to describe. Her skin turns a brownish reddish color, she starts to look emaciated, and she produces unholy sounds that even make me gag a bit. Finally, she gives out and I switch the camcorder off.
I look towards Winnie.
Broken.
She’s gone fully catatonic.
I’ll take that over a bunch of “wan die”s any day.
I take her out of the box and let her go back to her makeshift bed. A day later, I check on her.
“Huu-huu… Winnie twied to pwotec’ babbehs… am wowstest mummah ebah…”
I bring her to the bathroom. It’s time for a makeover before I let her back out into the wild. I’m not gonna kill her, that’s clearly what she wants.
I completely wax all the bright-pink fluff off her body.
“SCREEEEEE! Why nyu mummah take Winnie fwuff?”
With a tattoo gun, I etch the words “WORSTEST MUMMAH” onto both sides of her fat body, “MUNSTAH” on both of her fat cheeks, “FREE ENFIES” on her rear, and “POOPIE” on her forehead.
I remove both of her crotchtits and stitch her special place shut. I remove her back legs, to ensure that she is still mobile, but cannot run. I remove all of her stubby little teeth, with the same pliers I used to destroy her bestest babbeh and break her little heart.
I then release her into the woods. She is bound to live the most miserable existence imaginable. Nothing more than a hole for smarty stallions to use. Exactly what she deserves for ever thinking she could give her babbehs something that I never had growing up: love.