Sitting alone in a Alley a mother contemplates a decision, one that would turn her into a Bad Mummah.
“Huu-… Mummah nu wan’ smawty munsta babbehs… Nuh Daddeh say nu babbehs tiww he find Mummah Bestes’ Speshuw Fwend… Su sowwy babbehs… am dah wowstes’ mummah ebah… Wiww awways wub 'ou babbehs…” The Mare said, leaving a box behind as she turns to leave the Alley, her children alone, crying, and begging for food.
As the mother makes it to the Sidewalk, she looks both ways, surprising for a Fluffy, as road safety is not their forte. But she looks. “Nu Metaw-Munstas…” The mare says as she runs across the Bwack Wock. As the Mother ran, she heard her babies cheep and cry, yet still she ran, abandoning her foals, left to die during the night, as if they never existed.
The Mother’s fate was sealed the moment she left the foals, for she would be later blamed and killed for luring a stray dog back to the herd. Resulting in the death of a Fluffy or two. Her getting rid of the Smarty’s Foals was the final nail in the coffin.
We move back to the foals that were left. All either Munstas, Poopies, or they were like the Smarty… A Subspecies, much rarer than most. The Smarty in question was a Fluffalo, Their mother, a Pegasus.
As we take a look into the box, we see two Fluffalo, two Alicorns, a Pegasus sporting Fluffalo Horns and Small knobs where wings would grow, and a Small ‘Poopie’ Runt.
Each was birthed with unique patterns and colors, all were, in the eyes of Humans, an absolute goldmine. But to the eyes of Fluffies, they were monstrosities, things to be killed, eaten, or reserved to eat shit for life.
They would be luck y to just survive the night.
“-ude i swear man those things are annoying! Why on earth would you want a Fluffy as a pet?” a voice said, rounding the corner, coming into earshot of the foals. “Because man, I’ve seen those Abuse sites, they don’t deserve all that! Yeah they have problems, but those things are alive, anything that can beg for its life in my eyes is alive. period.” The foals heard, hearing the pair of voices coming closer and closer.
Ryan and Dave came into view of the Alley as they walked along the sidewalk, Ryan being the one to say he wanted a Fluffy, and Dave being the one who wished Ryan would just get a girlfriend.
As the two friends walked they began to hear the distressing sounds of Cheeps. Dave saw the box first. Pushed behind a tipped over Trashcan. To the mother’s credit, she tried her best to make sure they would survive the night. “ho-ly shit. Dude, I think you just won the lottery.” Ryan walked over to where Dave stood, expecting him to find a missing wallet or even a literal piece of shit. To his surprise he saw the foals, all crying in the box.
Without a second thought Ryan picked up the box, holding the foals. “Dude… Where is the mom at? You don’t think…”
“Nah man, the mom is probably out trying to find food or shit-listen I’m not saying we should leave em, but if they got mom, it would be kinda fucked if we just stole it’s kids, ya know?” Dave reasoned.
“Okay, we’ll wait, give it… 15 minutes?” Ryan said, making sure the foals were covered from the cold with a tossed out towel, using it as a makeshift blanket. “Dude 15? 10, TOPS, okay, I don’t like freezing my ass off for some pets who may not make it thru the hour. I mean… A Fluffy ain’t exactly the forager type. And if the mother had to leave the nest to get food, probably means the dad is out of the question.” Dave said,flipping the Trashcan upside down, using it like a chair.
“Okay… 10 minutes… Thanks for waiting with me man.” Ryan relented, the idea of such beautiful foals being abandoned made his heart break. “Yeah sure… Also i want the Lil Brown one.” Dave said, trying not to show any real emotion for the Fluffies. Ryan looked down at the Six seeing they precious bundles warm up under the dirty towel, feeling Ryan’s warmth thru the thin bottom layer of the box. the foals chirping softly, hugging and beginning to fall asleep.
The Two Fluffalo Foals were Sea-foam Green, and Ruby Red. The two Alicorns were Jet Black and Cream colored. the Pegasus bearing Fluffalo horns was also Jet Black like it’s Alicorn sibling, but it had two Yellow nubs on it’s back. Ryan looked over the foal, then over to Dave. “Why the runt?”
“I like underdog stories? I don’t know man, we may not even be taking them who know, dont worry about me, worry about the foals mom.” Dave said, trying to hid the fact he just thought the runt was cute.
Ryan and Dave waited… Waited… And waited for what felt like an hour. finally realizing the mother was not coming back, or was dead. The two got up from their ‘seat’ and continued back down the sidewalk to Ryan’s Apartment.
“Any ideas for names?” Dave asked. “None, but they wont need names for a while. Why? You got one for the runt?” Ryan asked, jokingly.
“Thinking about naming him Daniel, after that Karate Kid movie.” Dave said, doing very a very poor karate move. “Okay Mr. Miyagi, lets hurry up, its fucking freezing.”
The two Friends made their way home, Foals in tow, The foals saved from the anger of mother nature, and the elements of her fury.
As Ryan set the now Five Foals down, he began to look over them and think of names.
The Sea-Foam Fluffalo will be Babe.
The Ruby Red Fluffalo will be Ruby.
The Jet Black Alicorn will be Soot.
The Cream Alicorn will be Ivory.
The Jet Black Pegasus Fluffalo will be Luke.
The Runt, given to Dave was going to be named Patrick,after his Favorite superhero, Plastic Man.
Ryan prepared the Foals some milk,making sure it wasn’t hot, bottle feeding each one about a few teaspoons of milk, watching with pure joy as his new Pets drank from the milk happily, finally receiving nourishment.
Ryan looked out of his window holding the five foals in his arms, coddling them, and letting them snuggle up into his coat. “I’m gonna take care of you guys… Don’t you worry… D-… Daddy loves you.” Ryan said, a embarrassed smile stretching across his face as he proclaimed himself to be the foal’s father.
After each foal drank and had their fills of milk, they all peeped and burped, as they were laid down in bed, after a nice cleaning with small hand wipes.
Ryan looked over to hear the foals snoring. A smile crept over his face as he readied himself for bed.
Dave sat above the Foal, Patrick, as it was hugging a small Micro-fiber Cloth he used for his old glasses.
Dave picked up the foal gently, holding Patrick and the cloth in hand, bringing the foal over to a small cutting board. Brandishing a knife, Dave began to sever the back and front legs of the foal. Patrick, not know what was going on, it’s eyes still closed, panicked, peeping and chirping as the pain subsided with the final leg being amputated.
Dave gently applied some healing gel onto the foal, some of his private reserve for special cases of Fluffies. As Patrick peeped in pain, the bleeding subsided, allowing Dave to gently pick up the foal and place it into it’s small pen, a heat regulated jelly like bed, a Small speaker playing ‘Daddeh’ Songs, and a recycled Fluffy huggy toy. (Made from the fluff of passed mother mares.)
he was going to give this Runt everything he wanted, ‘and as for his legs?’ Dave thought. ‘I have something just perfect for him’.
Dave looked at the corner of his apartment where a box had been placed, along with a fifteen pack of ‘Bestes’s Nummy Sketti Miwk-Mix’ was a separate box. The box was larger, a Patented ‘Runt’s Revenge’ Model of Battle ready Prosthetic Limbs.
Soon he would be clearing out the feral population by the Complex in no time flat.
“I’m sorry little guy… Im sorry I hurt your leggies, they were meanie leggies who wanted to num you!” Dave said, actually causing the foal even more distress. “But, it’s okay now! Your Daddy got rid of them for you, and as soon as you’re big enough, your Daddy is going to give you the best leggies ever, so try to get some rest ok?” Dave said, stroking the foal, calming it down from its fear and pain.
Soon, Dave would have a prime killing fluffy who would take care of the local Feral population.
And soon, Patrick would meet his Siblings and have a playdate…
“Oh F-ffffffffudge…” Dave said looking down at the foal, almost distressing at the swear about to be uttered.
“How am I supposed to tell Ryan about the missing legs!”