The American Dream (Part 20) by DreamMLP

You woke up in a sorry box. You and bestest.

“Mummah!” Barbie yelled. “Scawy dawkies! Wan out!”

Your box rocked, wherever you were, it wasn’t on the ground. It was pitch black, and terrifying.

“Wan out! Wan out!” Barbie continued to yell.

How did you end up here? You remembered sketties, going to bed… and then you were here.

The box rocked again.

“SCREE! Scawy!”

It came to a stop. The front of the box lit up as something was pulled off it, revealing plastic bars. You and your bestest darted to the light.

“Wy gib mummah sowwy boxie?”

“Wet bestest babbeh outta sowwy box nao!”

The door obeyed, and swung open. You both stepped out into what looked like an office. Towering above you was Daddeh and another human you didn’t recognize.

“Mare, yellow and white… filly, yellow and pink. Good colors, just like you said!”

“Yep, think these are what you’re looking for?”

“Daddeh! Wewe yuo tak mummah and bestest babbeh?” you said, trying to get his attention, but the two continued on.

“These two will do alright. If you’d like to put them in the corner over there, we can meet out front and discuss payment. I’ll give you a minute to say your… goodbyes.” The man smiled with that last word before walking out. Daddeh turned back to you, grabbing you by the tuft of your necks.

“BAD UPSIES!” You both screamed.

“Oh shut it.” Daddeh said, sitting you down in a small fenced-in part of the room. “Didn’t think it was too good to be true a daddy and his little girl wanted to adopt you into their home?”

You looked down, then back up at Daddeh. “Buh… mummah and daddeh wuv fwuffys… dey gib sketties and wu-“

“Yup, all those huggies and love from my daughter, something to keep her happy for a few months before I sell you. This is what daddy does! And you know what? She’ll be pissed when I get back home without you, at least for the five minutes before I take her to Chuck E Cheese and find a new family of you money-printing vermin that she’ll love instead! Have a good life you fat bag of milk and pissrat baby!”

Daddeh picked up his sorry box and left, and you sat pondering his words. Fat bag of milk? Pissrat baby? Was he referring to bestest? No, obviously not, bestest is bestest. Maybe it was that other one, the blue one… where was the blue one anyway? Last you saw him was eating sketties. Now you want sketties.

The door flew open, the man from earlier walked in.

“Wewe daddeh!?” you asked. He didn’t answer. Instead he grabbed the two of you. Tossing you in a bin and picking you up. He took you deeper into the building as you yelled for daddy. He set you down on a table where several more humans came. One grabbed Barbie, your bestest, and walked away.

“Mummah! Mummah sabe bestest babbeh!” Barbie yelled.

“Bestest babbeh! Nu take bestest babbeh!” You yelled back.

The humans carrying you laughed to each other, as if it was some joke only the two of them could get.

You never saw your bestest babbeh again.

Instead the human set you on some platform with four holes, one for each leg.

“Guess what?” He asked.


In a second flat, all four of your leggies were gone.

“SCREE! Wy hoomin take mummah weggies!”

The human picked you up again, turning you over. He sterilized and dressed each of your stumps as you cried and begged. Lifting you over a trash can, he punched you in the stomach. Any extra feces in your body flew out.

“You’re going to be a new breeding mare.” The man said as he took you down a shady hallway. “Your old owner said you had two litters, one with an alicorn, sorry, a monster. So you have two chances to deliver a valuable litter before we turn you into a milkbag, and once you’re dried up, you’re heading to the incinerator. Got it? Good.” He patted you on the head.

Was he telling the truth? Would you now just exist to make monsters? You remembered your old special friend, the monster baby he threw into the darkness. You remembered your parents, an earth and a pegasus. You remembered what your special friend had said about his parents, a unicorn and a monster. These humans wanted monster babies, but whatever made your monster babies, it had been in your special friend. Not you.

The man took you into a room, darting around the floor were stallions, many. All looked strong, and not like they were about to ask for huggies.

“New mare for you horny cucks!” He set you on the floor, and in came the enfies.

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Ah sweet justice. Oh she will be in pain till she burns.


I never get the entire, “We can breed you like crazy and make money” When there are so many fluffies out there. Anything bred wouldn’t have any kind of actual return or profit. Hell, if people can find them on the street or get them for less than $5 in the store. The idea that any of this ever being profitable is laughable.

Now a fluffy training program. That’s where the real money is.

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its more the convenience and reliability of breeders having alicorns over having to chance upon one