Hello again!
So as promissed, heres Write a smol story part 3.
The rules are always the same as the first one
Have fun! Go wild!
Why is he hurt ? what happened ? Has he been there for a long time ? what happened later ? Did it get help ? Have fun!
For commissions, illustrations and so on, feel free to contact me!
is that a crate?
You decide
A puke yellow colt was walking past the back of a warehouse. A worker dropped a crate on it on purpose and left it there. At night, some drunk folks walking toward the bus see it and piss on it, aiming for its mouth. Fluffy pony drowns.
It would have drowned anyway with his own saliva.
Put it out of itâs misery with a well placed kick or stomp.
Happy days all around.
Asking around friendly for nummies, this feral foal got annoyed of getting nothing. Outta desperation, the foal threatened to do bad-poopies on one âdummeh hoominâ. Sadly enough a neutral-boxerâŚwith a crate-like box of AA batteries. The foal aimed his butt, but it took the little one a little to long to build up pressure, cause hunger, enough time for the neutral-boxer to grab that box and aim that one effectivly, batteries were disposable anyway.
Instant regret.
How long he was lying under that box, is unknown, but the foal doesnât, and canât, give a fuck, not anymore that is.
Later on, the foal was found by a fluffy collector, an autistical serie/movie fanatic, and got some wheels for those crippled weggies, and got placed in a quartet with three other fluffy-foals; one brown unicorn who loved playing messenger, one red pegasus who loves flying and enfies and a fat brown-maned who was asking about the bird, donât you know that the bird is the word?
âYour mummah maade you big and strong, what would she think of you asking for help? Now come on, use those muscles and pull yourself free.â
Spurred on by the encouragement, the foal pulled and heaved as he tried to free himself from his trap. Fighting through the pain, the foal gave one last night yankâŚ
And split himself in half. As he lay bleeding to death, he heard the âniceâ mister laugh and call him âA fucking dumbassâ before turning and walking away
I wanna see this one
âHey little buddyâŚI can get you out with my human magic, but I need you to close your eyes, okay? It only works if your eyes are closedâŚâ the man said, looking sadly at the foal.
It was as good as dead, and he knew it. The flesh on itâs lower half was rotting. Heâd do the only right and proper thing.
âThank you, nice mistah!â The foal said, closing his eyes. The man knelt, petting itâs head and neck as it smiled and cooed, he snapped itâs tiny neck.
He lifted the crate, and picked up the dead foal. âSorry, little buddy. Iâll take you home and bury you. You deserved better.â
Because fuck you.
Yes little one! donât worry, I will help you out of your misery, it might hurt but I p´romise, I wonât make it quick.
