“D…daddeh? Fankyu fow gif bestest sk…sketties tu Fwankwin, b…but whewe nyu fwiends gu?”
“Shut up. Go eat your dinner, daddy wants to be alone.”
“Otay daddeh, Fwankwin wiww gu hab sketties. How time tiww fwends?”
An answer came in the form of an empty Four Loko can bouncing off the chubby, sensitive green Pegasus’ mottled brown head. He barely avoided making scaredy poopies, but he ran away from daddeh anyway. Daddeh is meanie when he drinks Yummy Siwwy Juicies. Franklin doesn’t know why, when daddeh gave Franklin some, Franklin felt sleepy and kind of good. Far from angry!
He arrived back at his bowl full of sketties. Daddeh even gave him meatbaww nummies on top! He was so excited when he saw it, but when he took a few bites, something was bothering him.
And we all know where that got him.
Scared and saddened by daddeh’s meanies, Franklin had returned to his dinner. He felt conflicted. He really was happy about the sketties, and he wanted daddeh to know that, but it was also bothering him that his friends had left.
They were local ferals who lived in the woods by daddeh’s yard. He’d met them this morning when he was out chasing bugs, and they promised to wait for him to finish his midday nap so he could show them the pretty colors that the sun makes when it goes sweepies. But now…
He brushed the thought away. Daddeh would explain it later. His friends were probably just finding nummies! That made sense. Satisfied, he went back to eating. Daddeh had been making more sketties recently. Franklin had asked a few times, but daddeh would just get angry and yell.
He did that when Franklin asked where Mummah was, too.
Franklin was just happy that daddeh was making sketties. Mummah usually cooks, but she hasn’t been around for a lot of bright times, so daddeh has been…
Oh! That’s why he’s been having so much sketties! Daddeh must really like making sketties, and so he keeps cooking them! Franklin was very pleased with himself for having figured out this mystery, and he started doing a little happy dance. He had to make sure it was only the littlest tapsies though, or daddeh might get mad at the noise.
He was focusing on not getting overexcited with his hoofsies when something tickled the inside of his mouth. It made him gag and he started spitting his sketties out. He’d been so focused on dancing, he totally missed some fluff that had fallen into the sketties!
“Siwwy fwuff! Nu am fow nummies, onwy gu on fwuffy! Nu be in Fwankwin nummies nu mowe, otay fwuff?” The precocious little scamp booped the small blue furball and returned to his meal. He wasn’t dancing anymore, and he was making a mental note to be more careful when eating. He didn’t eant to eat more fluff again! It was always gross when it got in his mouth, and it seemed like that happened a lot when daddeh let him out back to have gwassie nummies. When he was eating from the big piles of gwassie cwippings his pretty green fluff would blend in with his meal and he’d sometimes accidentally num the same fluff twice! Having green fluff sure was inconvenient sometimes, and-
Green fluff. Green and brown. The two most common nummie colors for a domestic fluffy. Grass clippings and kibble. They even blend in with sketties, since the green looks like oregano and the brown looks like all sorts of stuff.
Franklin stops. His mouth half full of meatball, he stands up straight. Slowly, he turns to look at the corner of his playmay he’d spit the fluff out on.
The blue fluff.
He’d barely noticed anything before, but now he was sure he could smell his new friend. It was faint, but it was there! His mind raced to explain it. Was he only thinking that because the fluff was blue like his friend? He doesn’t see much blue stuff, so possibly. He had to get closer and check again.
He approached the wet fluff and sniffed it. Cautiously at first, then fully. The scent was unmistakable. This was his friend’s fluff. So where were they? Were they hiding?
“Hewwo? Nyu fwends? Whewe am ou, Fwankwin nu see!” He gulped down what was left of the meatball in his mouth when he looked back at his bowl. Green and brown can blend into spaghetti.
But not blue.
It…it was in the meatball. It wasn’t on it, this was a meatball with a bite taken out, and fluff inside it. Blue fluff. That smelled like his friend.
It all did.
It all did.
His stomach turned immediately and he retched all over his playmat. To his horror, some of what came up wasn’t sketties. Sketties aren’t yellow.
But the adorable little chirpy babbeh his friends had is.
“Nuuuuuuuuuuu! Daddeh! Daddeh, hewp! Daddeh, Fwankwin scawedy! Sabe Fwankwin!” He was barely coherent as he scrambled backwards. He’d stopped vomiting but he didn’t want to stop. He’d eaten so much more than had come back up. My God, it was his second serving! “Daddeh, hewp! Fwankwin nee make sicky wawas!”
His daddeh approached, rubbing his sinuses and groaning. “What the fuck is the matter, why-” He paused as he saw the mess. "Franklin! What is all this? You’re in big trouble!" Franklin was still disoriented and woozy from having depleted his hilariously small supply of adrenaline by repeatedly failing to vomit from sheer sadness, a thing he was sure he could do if he tried hard enough.
“Nu, daddeh! Fwankwin find fwuff! Dewe fwuff in Fwankwin nummies! Fwuff in sketties!” His daddeh scowled. "Jesus Franklin, I don’t give a shit. Eat around it or pick it out. And clean that up!" He violently gestured to the recently upchucked sketties. “I didn’t make you spaghetti for you to just waste it.”
Franklin steadied himself. He had to be clear and concise so daddeh would understand. “Wait, daddeh! Fwankwin…find bwoo fwuff an…an-an-an yewwow fwuff…in sketties!” He’d sat back on his haunches and was now using his front legs to gesture showing his train of thought.
“Fwankwin onwy hab pwetty gween an nu as pwetty bwown fwuff, nu hab bwoo ow yewwow! Nyu fwends hab bwoo and yewwow! But nu can find nyu fwends!” He made a brief huhu to emphasize his point. “Daddeh, am…am fwuffy fwends…huuuuuu am…am fwends…*in…*sketties?” He cringed just from saying it.
Daddeh didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at the trembling little fella sucking his hoof for comfort. He certainly wouldn’t find it from Daddeh’s deadpan voice. “No. Don’t be silly. Now eat all of it.”
“Bu…bu daddeh, nummies taste wike fwuffies! Smeww wike fwuffies, daddeh! Wike nyu fwends! Fwuffies nu am nummies daddeh, nu make Fwankwin num fwuffies!” His daddeh reached down and grabbed him by his brown mane, eliciting a yelp as he brought him up to eye level.
"Franklin, you’re going to eat that. You’re going to eat all of it, or I’m going to LITERALLY" His scream was so abrupt that Franklin shit himself. “Beat your fucking snout off.” He grabbed Franklin’s snout tight enough to hurt Franklin’s teeth. “Do I make myself clear?”
Through a veil of tears and pain, Franklin willed himself to nod. "Good. Now, considering that, do you want to keep asking about your sketties?"
Franklin just closed his eyes and wept. He stopped struggling for the first time since daddeh had picked him up by his scalp, and daddeh got the message. Franklin was dropped back onto the floor of his saferoom as daddeh turned to go.
“Now I expect all that cleaned up by morning. Especially the bad poopy, Franklin. I’ll be very angry if it’s still there tomorrow.” Franklin didn’t respond. He simply sighed and waddled over to the shit he’d left. He hated cleaning his bad poopies. “Huhuhu nu smeww pwetty, gon hab tummeh owwies fwum dis…” He started picking away at it. He knew it was best to do this first when daddeh tells him to. That way whatever else he eats will slowly get the taste out of his mouth.
He spits out a foreign object. A small tuft of yellow fluff was in his shit. He sobs silently to himself and resumes his grim task.
…
…
…
Franklin hadn’t slept well. He had tummy hurties all night, and scary dreams where his friends yelled at him and called him names. He trundled down the hall to the dining room where daddeh had left the sliding door open like always. Daddeh did yard work in the morning, and he let Franklin play outside while he toiled. “Goo-mownin, daddeh. Fwankwin am…>yawn<…Fwankwin am uppies.” Daddeh didn’t acknowledge him. Fine. Franklin didn’t really want to hear from him anyway. The only thing keeping him from having a breakdown at this point was how exhausted he was. A breakdown took too much energy.
“Hewwo? Nyu fwend? Nyu fwend fow fwuffy?”
From the edge of the yard, by the woods, walked an orange mare with two chubby foals on her back. She gasped in awe at the yard, which was…fine? Any yardwork is basically wizardry for a fluffy. “Suuu pwetty! Am dis Skettiwand? Wook babbehs, aww da pwetty fwowews! Say ‘Hewwo fwowews!’” The babbehs giggle and roll over each other, both delighted by what is ultimately a fairly normal garden. “Fankyu fow be pwetty fwowews fow babbeh! Fwowews su pwetty, gif babbeh happies!” The two foals collapsed on a giggling pile.
Franklin had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’d almost suppressed it when daddeh spoke up.
“Hey Franklin, do your new friends want to stay for dinner?”