The Runt Smell [by L.AVaught]

You are Mark, and there are quite a lot of things that disturb and upset you about the current world, what happened to your kid, what happened to your wife and almost everything to do with the ever present psuedo animals collectively known as fluffy ponies. It just seems so horrible to you to use the most powerful tool in existence to create a quasi sapient being that will always be at a handicap for the sake of profit. You’re more certain that they’re sapient than that they’re animals, animal requires certain the presence or absence of certain genes and features that you wouldn’t be surprised were not the case with fluffies. After all they’re one of a few classes of animals that truly understand the concept of the self, and the only other known species that can think about thinking. Simple and stupid thoughts perhaps, but they could ask about why they thought things, something not even our fellow primates could do. “Wai fwuffy wike baww?” is certainly more impressive than the wordier, “Give orange me give eat orange me eat orange give me eat orange give me you.” as you begin to pour the contents of the cannister around the building which is one closed and two not up to modern fire codes.
Of course the thing was that despite being a sapient species, people still treated them like shit. They were shot, skinned for furs, eaten, poisoned and abandoned with some people even going as far to torture them. But that wasn’t the worst part though, the worst part is that they didn’t even have a hope of mercy from their very creators who seemed to have wanted to make them fucked from the start. They had purposefully limited grammar, intelligence caps, and an almost utter inability and lack of desire to defend themselves against anything tougher than a small possum. All traits that made them catnip for a bunch of sick fucks, and not once did any people on the top think about the ethical implications of any of this. Of course according to the Greeks and Sumerians humans were in a similar bind, made to be mortal slaves for the service and amusement of uncaring gods. The only difference was that the Olympians had the decency to be discreet about the whole thing.
Then there was the runt scent, jesus christ the runt scent, how it fucked you up. Seeing an animal casually ignore or even eat it’s deformed offspring is one thing but having them insult the thing was horrific. With a tiger it was different, a tiger sees it’s baby won’t make it and casually eats it for sustenance, a tiger never called it’s kid a “fucktard” or said that it hated it. Let alone managed to concoct some bizarre narrative about the poor fuck trying to steal milk from them. So why, why did fluffies have to be so fucking emotional about it, you ask but you know why. You can 'tget mad at fluffies they didn’t ask for this, just that for something so immensely social and loving the only alternatives to friend were fear or hate. Even something as dumb as a fluffy can tell that it’s blind peeping, toothless child is by no means a threat to it, and their only method of active hostility outside of dominance squabbles is verbal ostracizing. It was horrible but necessary unless the techs at Hasbio could somehow make subconscious urges strong enough for the creatures to act on but somehow went completely under their conscious minds radar.
The thing is then, what did that say about us? If something so empathetic and kind as a fluffy pony could have their greatest love turned to hate by a few simple organic compounds what about humans? Sure the keys might be more complex but something ought to do it, right? Was what you felt for your son fake? Was your wife’s love fake? Certainly choosing that fucking asshole was an evolutionary smarter choice than staying with you. After all once the offspring was gone what reason did she have to keep investing. That beautiful face, that gentle smile, and quick wit who in the mind of nature was just a disposable sack for self replicating serpents that manipulated everything. Was he fake? Did it matter? Does every father see what you saw in your child. It explains why all those rapists, all those serial killers, all those assholes still had parents who loved them and would keep going on and on about them.
For a while you thought about trying to argue for either mass humane euthanasia for fluffies or expanded rights and fixes. While both would work you realized people would just recategorize them and some other thing would come in to fill their place. Humanity may try not to repeat their mistakes verbatim but they tend to make very similar ones very often. Besides even if they didn’t how long would the guilt last? When would it be forgotten? What was the time frame when the next fluffy could be justified as defended as different from the first attempt? It was all pointless, every bit of it. You hear some cheeps and childish mumbles, you’ve made a full circle around the fluffmart, now it’s time to drop the match.
Next comes the brick. Straight through the door as the place fills with a chorus of cries, and shouts which are soon drowned out by lights and alarms you barely manage to avoid the growing fire trail as you step in ignoring the panicked humanlike screams and broken glass.
All altruistic sacrifice results in selfish benefit after all right? So the only way to true sainthood for both parties was benevolent mutually assured destruction. Yeah, too bad you can’t explain that to the clearly pregnant purple unicorn begging you to “Sabe Pie am soon mummah!”, in a way you are saving her. Fluffies burn very fast their brains tend to short out almost instantly, it’s not like she actually had anything to look forward to anyways, she might be amputated and have her foals put in a blender. She could be forced by chemistry to hate her only surviving child, hell someone might have just set her on fire anyways and not had the kindness to join her in it.
You see a box full of runt foals with a milkbag, the process horrifies you and you can tell the poor thing is even more horrified. It’s necessary of course assuming you believe life has value for these foals, whether ethical or financial but not for you. Life in itself isn’t good it’s the experience and you think she might be the only thing having a worse time here than you. Of course some people say life has a purpose that we’re here for a reason but what purpose could be used to justify all this agony? You unhook her, calmly as smoke begins to fill your nose and proceed to stomp her head into a pulp in a single motion. The heart seems to be pumping but the grey slime coating your shoe that is now shivering in the orange light of the store seems to suggest consciousness have left the building. There are even more cries now, “MUNSTAH!” or “NO HUWT FWUFFY.”, nobody appreciates compassion these days, and you can barely appreciate it either. Other screams are mixed in, quick screes of something with the consistency of a blood filled plush toy being quickly turned into ash and cinders. These screams bother you but they were inevitable right? Might as well get it over quicker… you hope? Oh well at this point you had already signed your death warrant. You walk over to the fridge on a side of the store relatively untouched by the blaze causing a whole herd of micros to cower to the back of their tank. For the most part you ignore them as you grab a bottle of formula which you proceed to soak all over your left hand letting the bottle smash to the floor.
You stick your hand into the runt box as they swarm you, a few even hugging your fingers as they begin to suckle. This was both the first and last act of unprompted kindness they’d ever experience as they and the other chirpies remain blissfully unaware of their fate. Maybe they have a leg up on the others, the other parents are desperately trying to save their foals the idea of accepting it and making their dying moments comfortable completely alien to them. You gently squeeze the mass of chirping foals as you begin to sing a song you once sang to a boy in another lifetime, as the heat and flames draw closer and closer.
"There was a boy
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far
Very far
Over land and sea
A little shy and sad of eye
But very wise was he

And then one day
A magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
This he said to me
“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return”

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return”

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I’m in a good mood!

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Note to self invest in Fireproof Micros.

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No I’ve talked about this the only ways to kill a micro swarm that’s gotten a taste for human is fire.

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But what if there’s a breed of fireproof Micros would the world be doomed?

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Yes.

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In that case.
image

Found this in an archive.

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No shit considering their weight class Scootafluff and Trixie were badasses

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weight class?

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Well they’re fluffies they’re sorta naturally weak.

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Oh lol and scoots was smol as heck. Only having an advantage in fleeing and hiding.

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Yeah but Trixie literally fought cannibals, and actually made a clever plan to save Scoot

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I forgot about that it’s a shame it ended without a conclusion.

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I like to think that rainbow died with Jezibelle, and Trixie and Scootaloo somehow made it or at least went out with a bang

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I wonder of the cannibal foals would’ve ended up small. Like not quite scoots size but not quite full sized.
:shrug: Who knows. Rereading it I forgot this panel lmao. bGbAKrqA

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