The American Dream (Part 29) by DreamMLP

…Until a cinderblock came down on your tail.

“Guess who finally found ya!”

You knew the voice before you looked up. The man in the plaid shirt and trucker hat looked down at you as he locked the gate behind him. You tried to yank your tail out from under the block.

“You were hard to find you know, but I guess I didn’t expect there to be so many of ya.” He stepped towards Sparky, to your babbehs.

“Hoomin be nyu daddeh fo’ Spawkie an’ babbehs?” She asked, but as he approached closer it became clear that there would be no new mummahs or daddehs anytime soon.

He crouched down to her. “Where I come from if a critter gets into our product we put a bullet in its head…” He picked up the pink babbeh from where he was nursing.

“Nu taek babbeh!” Sparky said, “Am onwy wittow babbeh!”

“…But these pussy city slickers have laws against shootin in general.” He smiled, “Guess I’ll have to make do the old fashioned way.” He tightened his grip around the chirping babbeh.

“NU!” You yelled as loud as you could. “NU GIB BABBEH FOWEBA SWEEPIES! DWEAM EAT NUMMIES! TAEK DWEAM! NU HUWT BABBEHS!” Tears were welling in your eyes. Sparky held her green babbeh tighter.

“Oh but you hurt me.” The man said, “and I feel better hurting you.”

You watched your pink babbeh hit the wall with a loud SPLAT!

“NUUUU!” Sparky yelled. “BABBEH!”

The man bent down, and against your loud protest yanked Sparky up by the tail. Your blue and green babbehs fell away and began to crawl and chirp.

“BAD UPSIES!” Sparky said, unleashing a squirt of shit onto the man.

“YOU GODDAM CUNT!” He threw Sparky to the ground, and kicked her.

She hit the wall hard. Shit came out her bottom, and blood began to run from her top.


You pulled with all your might, tears running down your face, your tail burning, you yanked on it as hard as you could.

The trucker man delivered another hard kick into Sparky’s belly.


Your hooves were frantically scraping against the pavement, leaving streaks of brown, and then red.

Another kick.


And another. He kicked her over and over as she wailed.

Gurgh… Hu… Huwt…”

With one last kick her chest was crushed. Sparky made one more weak attempt to crawl, her face leaking tears and blood… and then she stopped.

You’d turned around as much as you could, biting at the white fluff on your tail. Your teeth weren’t sharp enough.

The trucker man turned his attention to the two foals. The green one was crawling away, towards its daddeh.

“Babbeh!” You yelled. “NU! GO’ WAY! DADDEH NU SAFE!”

A boot came down on the little green foal, but only its backside. Slowly, the man pressed his boot down, the foal chirped loud as it was pressed like a toothpaste tube into the ground.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see any more. The chirping stopped, and then your eyes were opened.

The trucker man squatted down to you, one of his hands was on your head, holding open your eyes with two of his fingers.

“You ain’t likin the show? I think it’s better you see every detail!”

In his other hand was the blue foal, the blue earthy. Looking closely, you saw for the first time that it was a male. Its chirping face looked around. Then the man tightened his grip.

Your babbeh gave a loud squeal, a collection of half-digested milk and blood erupted from its mouth and nose. Then its stomach, and guts.

The man grabbed tight hold of your head, squeezing. Out of surprise, you opened your mouth. In it he shoved what was left of your last babbeh.

Finally, he slapped you hard in the face, knocking out your babbeh and two teeth.

“Taste good as my oranges? Didn’t think so. I’ll leave the gate open for the next dog.”

The man rose, straightening his hat and taking off his shit-covered plaid shirt. He kicked the cinderblock on its side and off your tail.

He strolled out, leaving you a defeated mess. Tears poured from your eyes, snot from your nose, blood of both you and your foal from your mouth.

As the sun descended you continued to sit and sob, slowly inching forward. You came up to Sparky’s torn and bloody corpse, wrapping your arms around it.

“Huggies… huhu… h-huggies make every- huu- evewyting b-bettah…” As much as you wanted to believe it, Sparky still remained mutilated and bloody in your arms.

“Huu huu… m-mummah w-wub tummeh babbehs… t-tummeh babbehs… huuu…”

Soon enough, there were no more tears in you to shed. You simply sat in the bloodied corner of your home that had once been your special friend and babbehs.

“Wan die… wan die… wan die…”

The stars were in the sky now. The scavengers would be here soon. You hoped they would be.

“Huu… wan die… wan-“


You went silent. It was faint, but near.


You began to look around.


The trash.

You walked up to the pile, in particular a spot that appeared disturbed. You pulled bits of it away.


A male unicorn, small and runty, with a coat the color of dirt. Tears welled up in your eyes again.

It was the most beautiful thing you had seen.

You picked it up with your mouth, carefully removing it from the trash.

“Daddeh hewe…” you told it through your bloody teeth.

“Daddeh keep ‘ou safe.”

With your poopie babbeh securely in your mouth, you walked through the open gate, and into the night.

“Daddeh keep wastest babbeh safe…”

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Well… shit.

Happiness is fleeting, but that was barely enough time to even register. I’d tell Dream to protect that kid but he needs a mare to feed and I don’t know if he has it in him to risk putting more lives in danger


Deciding to let your runt child with bad colors die a slow painful death. Fuck Sparky, glad she died.


Well, is he an otherwise healthy runt though? Or was it the colors. Without having her side of the story I won’t say one way or the other.

Runt smell rejection makes sense to me.

Color rejection makes me mad.

If she would’ve accepted a pretty colored runt but not a bad colored run? Fine. Be mad. If she would’ve rejected it regardless? That’s something else. And I think taking care of the babies she did have took priority over giving the runt mercy-stompies.

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All I’m saying is that not giving a mercy kill is suspicious. Sure there were other foals, but it takes two seconds. This makes it seem like it was a color thing. Especially as Dream didn’t notice a bad baby smell, just that it was small.

Well, it’ll be up to @DreamMLP to clarify if they want. Including whether or no runt smell is a thing they want to use.

He found milk for one baby, I’m sure he’ll find some mare to take care of his own.

True. Either way, I love fluffy suffering. If the ending is hugboxish, then the suffering makes it feel more well earned. If it is just straight abuse then I can’t complain.


Well he was a bit distracted

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Its just sad :sob: Dream lost his new family adding another trauma to him :sob:

Now he have to look for something to give milk to that foal.

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Wait so this runt was toss by its mother in the trashcan before the incident?

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At some point between the birth and Dream walking in (a few minutes)


Would also like to add that he 100% would’ve been murdered with the rest had his mom not thrown him away


Its still heart wrenchin seeing the tragic death of his family, a payback from the oranges he ate :cold_sweat:

On the one hand, tragic.
On the other hand, hilarious.
HAHAHAHA!!! Fluffies suffering is so good.

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So did the orange trucker just happen to see Dream running away from the dog, or has he known Dream and his family were living in that alley and lured a stray dog to them? It would be the worst luck if Dream’s family happened to settle right where the trucker normally drops off produce.

And I fucking called it again!!!

Poor Dream but at least you have one babbeh left and your a survivor also I think in the end you doched a bullet there with Sparky because i just fucking can’t see you as the father who would just go with the “oh its a brown poopie runt baabeeh so just let it starve” go. Sooo yeah it would have been heard hurties either way but at least you hadn’t had to fight you wife so all your kids could live.