Wumps Wady All Parts (HugboxingBoxer)

Wumps Wady

Sprinkles bowed his green speckled head in shame at the meager pile of nummies he placed in front of his special friend. The wilting pile of grassy and trashie nummies he had scavenged would not be enough for Flower to make enough milkies for all three of their babies. “Sprinkwe’s sowwy spechial fwiend. No can find good nummies no more. Da gwassies is bwown and da bushies is sleepies.”

“Dat otay spechial fwiend.” Flower sighed, “Fwowa stiww wub ou.” Flower was such a pretty mare. Even covered in dirt and smelling not pretties she had been so lovely that Sprinkles ran away from his humans to be her special friend.

He watched Flower num all the nummies he brought and then lay down to feed the babies, “Come hewe babbehs. Mummah made milkies for ou!” The tiny chirpy babies wiggled and squirmed over each other, fighting for the teats that would take their tummy owies away. The two little colts one dark brown and one white like their momma pushed against each other while the pink filly climbed onto their heads. Flower scooped one of the colts up and gave it huggies while the other two suckled, “Siwwy poopeh babbeh, bestest brudda and sissie get milkies first. Dat otay, Mummah still wub ou eben if ou is poopeh.” Finally, they finished and Flower traded them, putting Poopeh onto the deflated teat. His little hoovies patted and kneaded as he gummed the nipple, but only a dribble of milk was left. “Huhu hu Babbeh have tummy owies. Why no milkies? Mummah no wub Babbeh anymore?” Flower nudged him with her nose, “Sowwy Babbeh, Mummah have more milkies tomorrow.” Flower brought the poopy babbeh into the huggies.

Sprinkle’s heart hurt so badly watching his little family. He loved them, but he missed his daddeh and his little mummah. Flower said that he couldn’t go back anymore, that they wouldn’t want a fluffy after it had run away. There were always such nicey-nice things there. There was crunchy kibble and warm huggies, and even sketties on “fuwsdays.” Sprinkles still didn’t know what a fuwsday was, but it was many forevers between them. Sprinkles wanted to take his family home, but he just couldn’t remember where it was. He shambled over the to the nestie and settled down to make a fluff pile, “Spechial fwiend,” he said softly, “No know whewe find nummies no mowe. Aww da nummie spots is gone.” Even his bestest secretes nummie spot behind the trashie people house got taken before he even got there. “No can find nummies fow fwuffy famiwy.”

Flower sighed, “Spinkwes if ou no can find nummies, den fwuffies gotta visiwt da Wumps Wady.” Sprinkles cocked his head, “What spechial fwiend mean? Who da Wumps Wady?” Flower rubbed her muzzle against his as she settled in to tell the story. “Many fowebahs ago gwand fuffly of owl hewd towd da stowy of da Wumps Wady. Somefwuffy tink she a munstah, somefluffy say dat she sabe dem fwom fowebah sweepies when dey need it most. If ou go to da big red housie with da flashy wights, near the trashy nummies bin, then fowwow da vroom-vroom munstah path aww day way to de end, dere is a big white housie wif a fwuffy pichure on it. Fowwow da wall awound to da howe in da back. Go inside and wait to tawk to da Wumps Wady. She comes out after many forevers and den, den you can trade. Da Wumps Wady give sketties-“

“ SKETTIES!” Sprinkles interrupted. Flower booped his nose.

“Why hurt gud fwuffy?” Sprinkles whined.

“Cuz, ou gun wakies babbehs!” she hissed and then continued, “Da Wumps Wady will give mowe sketties dan anyfluffy can eat, but in exchange, she take ou spechial wumps.”

“NO!” Sprinkles cried, “Wub wumps! NO TAKE WUMPS!” The babbehs woke up and started crying. The bestest babbehs were scardies and the poopeh babbeh was awake now to remember his hunger. “Hunwy Mummah, Gib miwkies! Babbeh hab tummy owies!”

“Now look what ou do dummeh. You wakies babbehs. No care if dark time. Go get nummies for make miwkies if ou can’t, fwuffies gotta go to da Wumps Wady.

It had been three bright times since Sprinkles had eaten. He was a good fluffy. He knew that any nummies he ate would be that much more that wouldn’t go to feeding his prettiest special friend and goodest, nicest babies. Every bright time he crawled out of the warm nestie and left before Flower and the foals woke up. Sparing a glance back at Poopie, the poor little brown foal whose tummy was almost touching his back. Sprinkles knew that if he didn’t bring home nummies today, then his littlest baby would take forever sleepies soon.

He checked every place he could think of, wracking his little brain for where nummies could be found. He searched the grassy nummy place, but it was dry and dead. He looked at the place where the big black sacks of trashy nummies pile up, but the meanie herd was there. When he first left home with Flower she had explained how these fluffies were the biggest meanies and to never let them see him. He dutifully hid for many forevers. He watched as the tuffies tore open the big black sacks and root through, digging out all the best trashie nummies. They stowed it all in the herd’s fluff to take back to their safe place. Sprinkles watched with the worst tummie owies as they took all the nice tasting nummies. Sprinkles was so tired. He could feel the forever sleepies closing in and it scared him. He dozed lighting in his hiding spot waiting for the herd to leave. Finally, they did. He crawled out from under his safe corner and went over to the trash bags. He raked his calloused hoofs through the piles of not nummies until he found something that could be nummed, a banana peel. It was a goldmine. He didn’t know how the heard had missed such a tasty trashie nummy. He knew that he needed to take it back to Flower to make milk for the talkie babies, but Sprinkles had the worst tummy owies he’d ever felt. Maybe… he could just eat a little? He took one spotted strip of peel and slowly chewed it. It was so good. He could feel every bit of his fluff tingling in celebration of getting good nummies after so long without it. Just a bite more wouldn’t hurt, there would still be some, but then Sprinkles looked down and realized he had nummed the whole thing! He was the worstest Daddy. He looked through the rest of the bag, but there were no nummies left. Dejected, Sprinkles slunk home with his head hung low.

“Speciaw Fwiend!” Flower cheered as he came into the safe place, “What nummies did ou find for bestest mummah Fwowew and bestest babbehs?”

Sprinkles felt like he had been kicked in the tummy. “Sowwy Speciaw Fwiend. Spwinkwes is dah wowstest dummehest fwuffy. Finded a nice trashy nummy but had such tummy owies. So… So… SPWINKWES NUMMED IT AWW!”

Flower gasped. She narrowed her eyes at her traitor special friend who was the worstest type of meanie. “Ou are da worstest dummeh fluffy to ebah bweathe. How dawe ou eat nummies meant for pwettiest Fwowew and her bestest babbehs. Ou no desewve to be Fwowew’s speciaw fwiend anymowe.”

Sprinkles reared backwards and fell onto his tail huuhuuing. He clutched his tail between his hooves and begged, “Pwease speciaw fwiend! No say meanie words to Spwinkwes. Had so many owies. Spwinkwes scared of foreba sweepies!”

Flower rose up onto her hooves and puffed her cheeks out. “Ou no come back untiw you got nummies for bestest famiwy!”

“NO! Spwinwes need huggies for biggest heawt huwties. Pwease pwetty speciaw fwiend. Pwease give huggies.”

Flower turned her rear toward him, “Fwowew no no who dummeh fluffy talking bout. Ou speciaw fwiend no am hewe. Weave or get sowwy poopies!”

Sprinkles scrambled backwards. He had never had so many heart hurties. Not when his little Mummeh had to leave for many forevers every bright time. Not when he had tried jumping off the tall sitting place to fly and ouched his leggie the worst. Not when the meanie vet man had given him the pointy hurties to make him not sick. Not even when he left his pretty fluffy mummeh without even saying goodbye. Sprinkles knew if he didn’t get food soon, he wouldn’t have anything left. No daddeh and little mummeh, no special friend, no bestest babies. He would be a lonely dummy fluffy. Sprinkles knew what he had to do. He set off to find the Wumps Wady.

Mind resolved to find this supposed Wumps Wady and get nummies for his family, Sprinkles set off trying his hardest to think of Flower’s directions: “to da big red housie with da flashy wights, near the trashy nummies bin, then fowwow da vroom-vroom munstah path aww day way to de end, dere is a big white housie wif a fwuffy pichure on it. Fowwow da wall awound to da howe in da back. Go inside and wait to tawk to da Wumps Wady.”

Sprinkles walked down to the firehouse with the flashy lights and loud noises. He remembered little mummah explaining what it was after a cartoon once. From there he went to the dumpster on the side. It sat next to a huge road that looked like it went all the way to the sky and he started walking. Sprinkles was so scared, scareder than he had ever been in his life, but for his babies, he could do this. He kept rolling the story over in his head about a scary maybe munstah, maybe nice lady, who trades more sketties than a fluffy could ever imagine in exchange for special lumps. He walked next to the road where the loud vroom-vroom monsters ran until the light began to fade from the sky and still, he walked. It was so many forevers and his hoofsies had such hurties. He began dragging his feet as he walked and tripped on a rock, cutting open his forelimb. Huuhuuing he licked the no taste pretty booboo juice and walked more. Finally, the road disappeared.

At the end of the road was a big white housie, bug enough for a whole human family to live there and still have room for four fluffy families. Sure enough, there was a picture of a fluffy on a big wooden sign with a red cross over it. Sprinkles hoped the red wasn’t supposed to be booboo juice. He followed the big wall around to the back of the building where there was a little door, just the right size for a fluffy to push through. This was it. Once he went through here, he would meet the Wumps Wady and life would never be the same. Would she really give sketties? Was it a trap? Even if she was the worst type of meanie, if he didn’t get nummies, Sprinkles would never see his family again and they would have forever sleepies. He pushed through the fluffy flap into a bare yard.

There were dry grassie nummy patches scattered about, but much of the ground had been bare dirt, where hungry fluffies had pulled up the grass hoping to get every last mouthful, killing it for everyone else. It was on a patch of dry grass that Sprinkles laid down, resting his head on his paws, shivering. It was so cold. He had never been outside of the safe place during the dark time before. Sprinkles focused on not moving, letting his fluff warm up the dry grass around him. He woke with a start, not sure when he had actually dozed off, but he knew something had changed. The door was open to the big white house and the silhouette of a human stood in the doorway. He staggered to his feet, his joints stiff, his foreleg hurting, his tummy nearly empty once again, “Hewwo nice Wady. Am ou sketties wady? Hewp fwuffy?

The figure moved towards him and Sprinkles backed up, “Pwease no hurt fwuffy. Just want nummies for speciaw fwiend and babbehs.”

The human turns and in the light of the doorway Sprinkles sees a soft smile. “Hello there little fluffy. Don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you. You are a pretty fluffy. May I pet you?” She reaches out a hand gently and sprinkles noses it with his muzzle.

“Nice Wady can pet Spwinkwes. Give huggies? Spwinkwes hab biggest owies and heart hurties.” The lady picked Sprinkles up gently and hugged him to her. He cooed in the dark night, his heart yearning for the lovely hugs his little mummeh used to give him. The lady carried him inside. He saw her better in the light as she set him down in a little room on a metal table. She had a nice blue not fluff with a white wearing blankie on top. Her mane was yellow and she had sparkles on her hear places that twinkled in the light. Sprinkles relaxed. This WAS a nice lady. She would take his wumps and give him nummies for his family. Sprinkles could still fix everything. She pets Sprinkles all over and stopped when she reached his cut foreleg. “It looks like you got a bit of an ouchie on your leggie. Would you let me fix it?”

“Yes pwease. It huwties.” The lady picks Sprinles up and puts him in a big metal bowl that looks familiar, this is where the water comes from. “NU wawa bad fo fwuffy!” He begins squirming. She gently hold him down and pets him soothingly.

“Do you have a name little guy?” The lady asks.

“Fwuffy name is Spwinkwes.”

“And who gave you that name? Was it a smarty, or a mommy or daddy?”

“Spwinkwes wittwe mummeh gave pwetty namesie!”

“Did your little mommy ever give you a bath? Use warm water to make you smell pretty?”

Sprinkles eyes light up, “Yus! Baff time had bubbwes and spwashies and smell pwetties!”

“Okay, well, I’m going to give you a bath so I can fix your leggie.” She turns the warm water on and fills the sink shallowly. Sprinkles relaxes as he feels the chill chased from his bones. The nice lady massages pretty smelling bubbles all through his fluff and then rinses and dries him in a fluffy towel.

“Fwuff smell so pretty!” Sprinkles looked up at her with wonder as she bandages his leg. “Cawefuw, dat Spwinkwes’s bad leggie. Got big ouches many forebahs ago.” The lady listened as looked all over him, complimenting his bright eyes and speckled green fluff.

“Sprinkles, stay here for a bit. I need to get some things ready for you.” The lady leaves and many forevers go by. Sprinkles hears her talkies through the door. “Yes… seems healthy… feral… small cut… no problem… tomorrow then.” She comes back into the room. “Sprinkles, I have some news for you,” she says, giving him good upsies and warm huggies, “I just talked to your daddy. He’d been very worried about you.” Sprinkles stares blankly at her for a moment.

“WUMPS WADY FINEDED SPWINKWES’S DADDEH?!? Whewe Daddeh? Whewe wittwe Mummeh? Spwinkwes sowwy runned away. Jus’ wanted babbehs with prettiest speciaw fwiend.”

The lady looked confused, “What did you call me?”

“Uh… Wumps Wady. Nicey lady take fwuffy’s speciaw wumps and gives sketties. Fwuffies call Wumps Wady.” The woman sits back stunned for a minute before beginning to giggle. Sprinkles doesn’t know what is funny, but he laughs too, before remembering why he was there. “Nice Wumps Wady, wouwd ou take Spwinkwes’s speciaw wumps and give sketties so babbehs can have milkies?”

She pauses at his words. “Even though your family is coming for you, you still want to trade your lumps for food?”

“Yus pwease. Speciaw fwiend need nummies for babbehs and no can find nummies anymowe.”

Sprinkles stared up at the Wumps Wady waiting. Would she honor his request? He knew that Flower needed nummies to make milkies for their babbehs. And babbehs were the most important thing ever! Even if he had the biggest scaredies, he couldn’t let that stop him from being a good daddeh and feeding his foals. He loved his family so much: His prettiest special friend, even if she was not nicey sometimes, the little white colt that Flower called her bestest babbeh because he looked just like her, his little girl a pink filly with white mane, and his “poopeh babbeh’ as Flower called him. Poopie was smaller than the other two and didn’t get nearly as much milkies. Flower didn’t like his dark brown color and bright green mane. Sprinkles loved him just as much as the others. He was the only foal who inherited the little light-colored speckles on his rump that Sprinkles had been named for. He knew that good fluffies didn’t have bestest or worstest babbehs, but if he gave Poopie a little extra huggies, well, Flower was too busy with Filly and Bestest to notice.

The Wumps Wady sighed. “Alright, lets go find your family.”

“Wait! Wady, no can find fwuffy family if no have nummies for dem. Babbehs got worstest tummy hurties and gon take forebah swepies soon if no get nummies. Pwease take spechiaw wumps and give Spwinkwes sketties.”

The Wumps Wady turned to Sprinkles, “No.” She started to speak but Sprinkles began wailing cutting her off.

“No! NO! Pwease Wady pwease. No ask ou for anyfing ewse eber again just wan babbehs to wive. No wet good babbehs go forebah sweepies.” His voice got soft as her realized the implications of his failure, “Spwinkles gonna go homie with humin famiwy but fwuffy famiwy gon take forebah sweepies. Hu hu” Sprinkles wailed and sobbed as the Wumps Wady ran a soothing hand down his back.

“Just because I’m not taking your special lumps, doesn’t mean we can’t bring them some food. How about we go feed your family and then you can be happy when you see your daddy tomorrow. Okay?”

“Weawwy? Ou would do dat… for Spwinkwes?”

She went over to a closet and got out a bunch of tiny not-fluff. She put the warm not-fluff over Sprinkles and it wrapped him up in the nicest warmies. She even had little booties for his sore hoofsies. It felt like walking on the marshmallow sweeties that little mummeh would give him. The Wumps Wady grabbed a bunch of stuff and picked Sprinkles up in her arms. “Do you know the way back to your nest?” Sprinkles nuzzled comfortably in her arms pointed with his covered hoofsies and directed the Wumps Wady back to the nest.

It took many so many less forevers to get back to the nest when he was being carried. Finally, Sprinkles directed the Wumps Wady to the big tree that covered the nestie hole. Sprinkles politely asked the Wumps Wady to put him down and he scrambled forward into the burrow. “Fwowa! Fwowa! Spwinkwes find nice wady to bwing bestest nummies for pwettiest speciaw fwiend and bestest babbehs.” As he entered the big nestie room he could see it was empty. Flower was gone and so were his foals.

Flower was a clever fluffy. She wasn’t a smartie, but she knew how to get what she wanted. And what she wanted was the prettiest babbehs and handsome, docile special friend to do whatever she wanted. However, she had been thrown out of her herd. Scavenging on her own, she survived, but she wanted more. She wanted to be admired, adored, groomed and fed. She was a fluffy built to be loved by others. She had a snow-white coat and a buttercup yellow mane, clear blue eyes and the prettiest name. Her mummah had been a house fluffy and her daddeh was the herd’s last smartie. She had been bestest, prettiest babbeh growing up. She relished it, but it didn’t last. A new smartie challenged her daddeh for his herd and won. Suddenly, she was faced with the prospect of either becoming a regular mare instead of the bestest smartie filly or leave. She tried to manipulate the scarred new smartie, but he wouldn’t be swayed by her beauty, her scent, or her nicey words. He told her to work or go. She went.

Flower knew if she wanted an obedient special friend, she’d have to find one herself. She needed someone almost as pretty as she was, eager to please, and willing to give her babbehs. It wasn’t long before she found him. A light green colt with white speckles on his haunches and a cream-colored mane. He was beautiful with soft looking fluff and bright green eyes. She knew he would be perfect. His name was Sprinkles and he would be her special friend. She hung around the chain fence and began visiting him. Telling him stories of how wonderful the outside world was, of how many types of nummies there were. How many fluffies could fit into a fluffpile. The pretty tree where she had her housie. Every time she reminded him not to tell his human family about her, because they would make her stop visiting and didn’t he want to see his bestest friend Flower? Finally, one day he was ready. They dug under the fence and escaped. Flower showed hum where to get all the best nummies, she shared her stockpile until he got good at finding his own. They had lots of special huggies and good feels. Soon, Flower had everything she’d ever wanted a special friend who doted on her, tending to her every need, a tummy full of beautiful babies to love, and a warm safe place to live. She hadn’t been so happy since she was a little filly.

One day, the pain came. She has the worstest biggest poopies and then the babies were here and nothing else mattered. She had four foals, however, only two of them were good. One had been born a dummy and didn’t make any noise, the other was a poopie. She turned to clean her two good babies when she saw Sprinkles licking the two dummy babbies clean. “Why Speciaw Fwiend wick not good babbehs?” Sprinkles gasped, “Dey not dummie babbehs. Aww babbehs am gud babbehs.” He said with conviction. Not wanting to lose the favor of her special friend before he had bonded with the babbehs, she stayed quiet, feeding the three living babbehs. She explained to Sprinkles that sometimes babbehs never wake up and stay sleepies forever. He huhued for ages, but finally calmed down when she nosed the chirpy babies to him to hug. Meanwhile, she carried the dummy baby outside to make it a nummy baby. No point in wasting it after all.

She watched as her bestest babies grew big and healthy. The little colt that shared her coloring was named Bestest and was well on his was to being a big fluffy with all the milk she gave him. Next was Filly, the only girl with her pink fluff and white mane, she was very pretty. Then there was Poopie. She didn’t really like Poopie, but Sprinkles did. She gave him last milk and somewhat less huggies, but keeping him made Sprinkles happy and when he was bigger, he’d give good licky-cleanies to her and her good babies.

Sprinkles was a great daddeh, he gave the babies lickie-cleanies so they were always clean. He cleaned up the messes they made in her fluff, and he brought home lots of nummies. The cold times were coming however, and lately he’d been bringing less and less nummies home. How was Flower supposed to make bestest milkies for her bestest babbehs if her dummy special friend didn’t bring her the best nummies. Worse, he started complaining about missing his old home and human family. She couldn’t stand hearing about how he got all those nice things. Her mummah had taught her that humans couldn’t be trusted. They would always hurt you. Better to bargain and at least get something out of it.

Sprinkles was late. He was always back from nummy gathering before the sky ball went to sleep, but not today. The babbehs were complaining about their tummy owies and little runty Poopie hadn’t had much to drink in the past few days. He didn’t even have the energy to play anymore. He just sat in the corner of the nestie sleeping and watching his siblings. After many forevers Sprinkles came into the safe place.

“Speciaw Fwiend!” Flower cheered as he came into the safe place, “What nummies did ou find for bestest mummah Fwowew and bestest babbehs?”

Sprinkles lowered his head and spoke to the packed dirt floor, “Sowwy Speciaw Fwiend. Spwinkwes is dah wowstest dummehest fwuffy. Finded a nice trashy nummy but had such tummy owies. So… So… SPWINKWES NUMMED IT AWW!”

Flower gasped. She narrowed her eyes at her traitor special friend who was the worstest type of meanie. “Ou are da worstest dummeh fluffy to ebah bweathe. How dawe ou eat nummies meant for pwettiest Fwowew and her bestest babbehs. Ou no desewve to be Fwowew’s speciaw fwiend anymowe.”

Sprinkles reared backwards and fell onto his tail huuhuuing. He clutched his tail between his hooves and begged, “Pwease speciaw fwiend! No say meanie words to Spwinkwes. Had so many tummy owies. Spwinkwes scared of foreba sweepies!”

Flower rose up onto her hooves and puffed her cheeks out. “Ou no come back untiw you got nummies for bestest famiwy!”

“NO! Spwinwes need huggies for biggest heawt huwties. Pwease pwetty speciaw fwiend. Pwease give huggies.”

Flower turned her rear toward him raising her tail, “Fwowew no no who dummeh fluffy talking ‘bout. Ou speciaw fwiend no am hewe. Weave or get sowwy poopies!”

Sprinkles turned and ran out of the nest into the night. Flower settled back in. She knew he’d be back soon with good nummies to make it up to her. He tummy hurt a little, but it wouldn’t be for long, and she’d felt hunger before. She looked over to Poopie. Shaking the thought from her head, she decided she wasn’t that desperate yet. He lived another day, the ugly milky thief.

Flower awoke in the night. It was late and cold. Her tummy hurt so bad. Heaving a sigh, she wished she had conviced her no-good special friend to sell his lumps for sketties. She could always get a new special friend if needed, but she hadn’t had sketties in soo long. Not since she was little and the herd had found them in a trashie bag. She looked over at Poopie again, once more considering making him useful, when a thought occurred to her. She didn’t need Sprinkles to trade his lumps, she had a perfect pair of lumps right here.

Flower knew what to do then. She loaded up the babies on her back and left the den to visit the Wumps Wady and trade her Poopie foal’s wumps for the bestest nummies.

Sprinkles was distraught. He cried and cried. “Spwinkwes am worstest daddeh. Babbehs gone. Special fwiend gone. No have nofwuffy to wuv. Hu Hu hu.” The Wumps Wady muttered curses that he couldn’t process and got on the ground reaching down the hole to grab Sprinkles. He instinctively cried, “Bad upsies!” and she scruffed him and hauled him out. Still the sobbing stallion collapsed into her arms as she hugged him. He cried himself raw all the way back to the vet’s office. She want in the front door this time.

The Wumps Wady pet his back and soothingly shushed him. He let out all of his howling sobs and eventually fell asleep from exhaustion as the soothing gait of her walking swayed him. She opened the door and set the now sleeping fluffy into a pet bed before tucking a stuffy friend in next to him which he instinctively hugged seeking comfort. She wrapped a blanket around him and set the whole bundle into a large crate where he could safely spend the night. She didn’t have any other fluffies in the kennel room, so even if he woke up, he wouldn’t bother anyone with his howling. As she wiped down the exam room she had used with Sprinkles, her phone chimed. The motion detectors in the backyard were going off again.

Helen, for that was the true identity of the Wumps Wady, cursed quietly to herself. It had been an okay day, but this was turning out to be a hell of a night. She debated whether this “ethical sterilization” plan had been worth it, sure, the fluffies give informed consent and are rewarding for their good sense in helping cull overpopulation, but she had to get up at all hours of the night to do it. She’d even had to rent out the apartment above the practice to stay close enough to monitor them. It had been over a year and was coming along well. The grant she received from the Hugboxer’s Association for her piolet program left her well-funded for the work, but now she couldn’t stop, even when it was one in the morning and cold as a witch’s tit out. She pulled her whitecoat on and opened the back door to see a fluffy mare with some foals on her back.

“Hewwo nice wady. Fwuffy wan gib you wumps for sketties.” The white mare looked up at her nervously.

Helen stared blankly, “Um. Well, that’s nice of you pretty girl, but you don’t have lumps. If you want, I can make it so you can’t have anymore babies though. Then I can give you spaghetti.”

“NO. No hurt Fwowa’s spechiaw pwace!” The mare screeched before seeming to get control of herself. “Fwowa… Fwowa her to gib you babbeh’s wumps.” She grabbed a dark brown foal off her back. If the dark night he looked almost black. She sets the foal down in front of Helen and then backs away. “Pwease take Poopie Babbeh’s wumps and give mummah sketties for make milkies for bestest babbehs.”

Helen cringed at the way the mare talked about the foal. Sure, it wasn’t the nicest looking, but the coloring caste system fluffies had was still messed up. “Okay, would you like to talk about this inside? We can get you something to eat and make sure you don’t have any ochies.”

The Flower looked at her suspiciously for a long moment before cautiously approaching. “Nicey Wady onwy take Poopie Babbeh wight? No hurt mummah or gud babbehs?

Helen nodded. She lead the mare and foals inside before giving them good upsies onto an exam table. She checked them for injuries. The two larger babies were doing okay, but the brown one in her hand was definitely stunted from lack of food. She set some kibble out for the mare and took the brown baby into the other room to feed. As she set a bottle of fluffy formula to warm, she gave the chilled foal a warm cloth and swaddled it. “hungee” it managed to peep out. It seems introducing it to warmth was causing it to stir.

“Hello little one, I’m Helen. I’m going to get you some tasty milkies okay? Grabbing the bottle out of the warmer you put the bottle to the foal’s mouth. It suckles weakly at first, however, after getting a mouthful of the creamy formula it begins gulping greedily. You sit with the hand sized foal and watch it drink a quarter of its weight in milk before looking up at you.

“Tank you nice Wady. Dat was bestest milkies eber. Tummy soooo fuww. Poopie wub you.” Helen feels her heart flutter for the poor little guy. She hated what would come next. Her goal was to reduce the feral population by voluntary sterilization. She’d never had a fluffy offer its offspring for the procedure, but it made sense. If a human parent could consent to have a child’s ear’s pierced at a young age, how different was this body modification? Admittedly, pretty different, but her goal was to prevent overpopulation, and her grant stipulated that she had to neuter any unowned fluffy that asked for it. Still, he was so sad. She puts down the poor brown foal and goes to check on the mare.

Flower is singing a mummah song to her babies as they nurse. Helen watched the filthy mare coo happily petting her baby’s manes and listening to their frequent chirps of “wub” “milkies” and “mummah.” Finally, they finished and Flower curled around them “Dat’s wit gud babbehs. Dwink aww da milkies and gwow big and stwong for mummah. You da bestest, smawtest, pwettiest babbehs.” Helen closed the door behind her and Flower looked up at her. “Hewwo Nice Wady. How time til sketties?”

Helen put on a smile that she didn’t really feel, “Well, your baby isn’t ready yet. He needs to eat more to be healthy enough for it. While he rests, why don’t we get you all clean and pretty?

Flower’s eyes light up, “Nice Wady gon gib Fwowa wicky-cleanies? Fwowa wuv wicky-cweanies.”

Helen cringed. “No, I won’t be giving you licky-cleaning, but I can get you to smell pretty. Let’s put the babies here and get you clean first.” Lifting the mare into her high walled double sink, Helen let the warm water run on one side while the mare waited in the other beginning to panic as she realized what was happening. The mare shat and pissed into the sink, but that was what she was there for. Once the bath was drawn, Helen lifted up the screeing mare and lowered her carefully into the sink. Flower flailed violently until she touched the water, then she stood paralyzed whimpering as Helen grabbed Fluffy shampoo and began to scrub. The mare was still scared, but relaxed as the warmth and kind touch got to her. The water turned a murky brown around her as the dirt of feral life washed off. Helen marveled to herself, the unicorn mare really was beautiful. Too bad about her personality. She lifted Flower out of the water and onto a prepared towel, rolling her up into a swaddle.

“Fwowa smell so pwetty! Tank you Nice Wady! You make Fwowa so cwean. Fwowa wuv you. Helen’s head dipped; she knew the mare didn’t mean it. She was just happy to be clean. Despite how much Flower liked the results of her bath, she didn’t take it well when Helen went to wash the filly. “No! Wawa bad fo babbeh. No gib Fiwwy wawa hurties! Gud babbehs no for hurties! Babbehs for wuv and huggies.”

Sighing, Helen ignored her and refilled the sink basin with less water this time. “Flower, other fluffies are trying to sleep. Please stop yelling.” The mare continued until Helen turned and glared at her. “Good fluffies are quiet,” she growled. The mare continued to cower, unable to free her trapped legs and looking on as the vet picks up her babies.

The poor pink filly looks up at Helen, “Nice Wady onwy gib wittle hurties pwease?” No want forebah sweepies from bad wawa.” Helen pet the guinea pig sized foal.

“This water won’t hurt you, after all your mama over there didn’t get hurt right?” Helen squirts a tiny bit of bubble bath and then brings a warm handful of bubbles up for the foals to investigate. Bestest came forward and poked them with his hoof only to startle backwards when it popped. Filly giggled at him and leaned forward to sniff the bubbles, “Poppy friends smeww sooo pwetty! Wub!” She plops her face into the bubbles and sneezes as they tickle her. Having become excited, Helen lowers Filly into the bath and scrubs her down before bringing a more cautious Bestest into the bath. He puffs his little cheeks out, “No scawe Bestest Babbeh!” “Take sowwy hoofsies poppies!” He then tries to pop every one of the bubbles. Filly tackles him before he can. “Siwwy bwudder, poppy fwiends am funny. No gib dem huwties!” She scoops up some bubbles and tries to place them on her bother. He backs off and they begin a merry game of huggie tag in the water. Helen lets them go for a minute before grabbing the colt for his scrub down. When all of the fluffies are clean and wrapped in towels to dry, Helen goes to check on Sprinkles. “Nice Wady, what am da noises? Fwuffy twying to sweepies.”

Helen gives him a reassuring smile. “Just some ferals that I am helping. They were scared of bath time. Don’t you worry about them. Just try to get some rest.”

“Otay Wady.” Sprinkles says, his melancholy apparent. He squeezes the huggy toy closer and lays down, the fluff of his face still soaked with tears. As she leaves Helen think to herself, not for the first time, that the soundproofing for this kennel room was worth every penny.

Heading back to the exam room where the brown foal lay, upon entering the foal began to cry. “Poopie so sowwy Nicey Wady, made baddest poopies on pretty beddy. No could move to find da poopie pwace. Pwease don make babbeh num poopies.” It had tears in its eyes. Great, just what she needed, another sad fluffy. She briefly considered sticking the pitiful foal in with Sprinkles so they could comfort each other, but she didn’t know if he was brown friendly. Shaking her head, she set about comforting the foal.

Helen unwrapped the crying runt and saw he had indeed put a smear of poop onto the small blanket she had wrapped him in. The poor thing had such an empty stomach it couldn’t even have a bowel movement. She didn’t trust its ability to keep its head out of water in a weakened state. Grabbing a box of fluffy cleaning wipes, she sets about cleaning the poop off of the foal’s fluff. The foal coos softly and babblingly thanks her for giving it cleanies. As she wipes down the little body from forelock to hoof, she notices the small white dapples on its haunches. Finally, everything clicks into place. The missing special friend, the starving baby, her depressed stallion. Great. She has a fluffy family nightmare. Well, best get them settled. She sets the clean foal down next to her on the table and begins making a new bottle up. “So, tell me about yourself little guy.”

The foal scrunches its face up. “Fwuffy name is Poopie. Am mummah’s least gud babbeh. Daddeh am nicey daddeh, but no can make milkies. Want wun and pway with Bestes and Fiwwy, but no can. Am wittwe and no can keep up. Den Daddeh no couwd fin nummies no mowe and Mummah had wess milkies. Babbeh so hungree aww da time. Daddeh awways hab biggest saddies but twy gib wots of huggies. Den Mummah told Daddeh he was bad fwuffy if no could gib nummies. She twy gib him sowwy poopies. Dat gab babbeh WORSTEST saddies. Wub Daddeh so muchies. Now Mummeh say if Poopie gib Nice Wady wumps den babbeh can hab miwkies wike Bestes and Fiwwy.”

Helen shook her head. This mare was such trash. Lying and abusing this poor foal. Doing a full exam, she realizes that this foal has probably been permanently stunted by lack of nutrition. It was less than half the size of its siblings and would probably never look older than an adolescent even if it had proper nutrition from here on. This was probably the worst part of the job, watching the cruelty they inflict onto one another. Still, it seems like Sprinkles is a good dad. Might as well give them both some comfort. “Well little guy, I think I have someone who would love to see you.”

Carrying the foal into the kennel room, Helen turns on the light and crouches down to Sprinkles’s cage. “Sprinkles, look who I found.”

Sprinkles blearily opens his eyes, “Bwown babbeh?” His breath hitches as if he’s lost the ability to breathe before launching himself at the bars of the crate. “BABBEH! Babbeh am otay! Babbeh, you daddeh am here. Wuv! Wuv babbeh.” He scrambles trying to push himself through the bars by sheer force of will. Helen sits down in front of the crate. The little foal in her hands stands weakly for the first time she’s seen and she places it on the floor and opens up the door. Sprinkles launches himself out of the door and stops just before the wobbly foal. “Babbeh, daddeh wuv yu. So sowwy for weaving. Jus wanted to get nummies for famiwy.” Sprinkles began crying again as he wrapped the tiny foal into a delicate hug.

Helen watched happily for a few minutes as the stallion nuzzled, huggies, petted, and groomed the foal all the while telling it how good of a baby he was and how much his daddy loved him. The foal seemed content to just cuddle into his father’s fluff peeping out the occasional “Wub!” It was pretty heartwarming. Helen sat the bottle down and the foal, recognizing the milk delivery system from earlier, politely asked his daddeh for nice downsies so he could get more milkies. Sprinkles reluctantly set the foal down and watched him waddle over to the rubber nipple and begin suckling. Sprinkles turned to Helen, suspicion in his eyes. “Pwease Nice Wady, whewe yu find Spwinkwes’s babbeh?”

Helen weighs the merits of concocting a story before settling on the truth. “Your special friend brought the babies all here. She wanted me to take this guys testi- I mean lumps in exchange for spaghetti to make milk for her other two babies.”

Sprinkles sat silently for a long time, the only sound the greedy glups of the increasingly potbellied foal. “Dat am da worstest ting fwuffy evew heawd. What kinda munstah mummah wouwd do dat to hew own babbeh?”

Helen shook her head, “I don’t know, but since this is your baby too, you get a say. Do you want me to take the baby’s lumps.”

Sprinkles shook his head vigorously. “No! Babbeh am too wittle. Hurties am no for babbehs. If anyfluffy need hurties gib to bad daddeh who no could sabe babbeh from meany mummah. Spwinkwes no deserb good babbeh like Poopie.”

Helen tilted her head thoughtfully, “If you love him, why did you name him Poopie?”

“Spwinkwe’s no name babbeh dat. Special fwiend say she name babbehs for what dey awe. Bestest am best babbeh cause look like mammah. Fiwwy and onwy fiwwy so namsie am Fiwwy. Poopie named cause am cowow of poopies. No make Spwinkwe’s happy, but dat what Fwowa named babbeh.”

Helen noticed he didn’t call her special friend anymore. Interesting. “Well, if his mama gave him a bad name, why can’t his daddy change it?”

Sprinkles eyes light up, “Dat am bestest idea Nicey Wady. Gon name babbeh…” He descended into careful thought studying the rotund foal who was trying to waddle back. “Babbeh! You namesie am Speckwes! Cause you got daddeh’s spotties!” The little brown foaled tiny green eyes slammed open in surprise before filling with tears. It tried to run to its daddy, but tripped and fell on its face. Already crying it began to wail as its father picked up the sobbing baby and held it to his chest. Helen was exhausted. It was 2:30 in the morning and she had been working since 9am. Still, she had just enough energy left to appreciate the song the loving fluffy sang to his foal.

“Daddeh wub babbeh,

Babbeh wub daddeh,

Gib bestest namsie

So babbeh be happy”

It was cute. She tucked the pair into the crate for the night and left to wrap up with the other fluffies.

Helen headed into the exam room with the mare and foal. Flower had wriggled out of the towel, and unwrapped the babies. The whole lot of them were curled together in a fluff pile on the exam table. She Bestest and Filly were snuggled around each other and Flower curled herself protectively around both of them. Helen refilled the dish of kibble and water and decided to leave them as is. It would be more hassle than it was worth to crate them all for the night. She looked up at the clock in the exam room. 2:45am. Great. Sprinkle’s owner Matt would be there in five hours. If she was lucky, she’d get four hours of sleep before opening tomorrow.

Sprinkles heart had the worstest hurties and bestest happies all at once. He had never seen Speckles so happy before. The little brown colt had a belly full of milk and all of his daddy’s love to himself. He missed having his other two foals in the fluffpile and even though she was the worstest type of monster, he missed Flower too. Having a special friend had made him so happy. When he was in his old home, it had been so lonely when everybody was at work or school. Even when they came home, Little Mama wasn’t allowed to play with him until she finished doing even more school at home! He tried his best to only show her his happies because he didn’t want his wonderful family to have heart hurties, but he was sad so much of the time.

He didn’t remember his fluffy mummah much, but he knew she was warm and soft and gave him the best milkies. He had lots of other foals to play with and the ranch daddy would come by to give everyone nummies. Then one day a little human girl came by and picked him up. They had fun plays and huggies while the big humans talked to ranch daddy. The next thing he knew, he was pulled away without even getting to say goodbye to his mummah. He had nice toysies and FluffTV to watch, but it wasn’t the same. Every time he saw fluffies playing together he got so sad.

Then pretty Flower started to visit him! She was so pretty and knew so much about the big world. He would sit at the fence gate and listen to her talk for hours about how much he would love the world. Then one day she said she loved him! It was the best news Sprinkles had ever heard! He missed being loved by a fluffy so much. He hadn’t had a fluffy friend since he was a baby and now, she wanted to be his special friend! He knew he shouldn’t leave the yard, but he wanted to be loved so bad. Then, once he was out and they had special huggies, Flower said that his human family wouldn’t want him anymore. It gave him worstest saddies, but it made sense. Daddeh’s rule was not to leave the yard without a human. There wasn’t a rule against special huggies, but Flower knew so many things that if she said it, it must be true. The worst part was that he brought this on himself! If he had known that leaving would mean that he could never come back he never would have left! But now it was different. He wasn’t just a lone fluffy, he had his babies to think of. They were the best babies. They had their mummah’s worldly smarts and his good manners and loving disposition. They needed him. He knew that seeing daddy tomorrow would be the happiest and saddest. He missed his family, but they wouldn’t want him back. Still, just being able to say goodbye to his human family would be nice. He didn’t know what to do about Flower though. The babies still needed milkies after all! He wanted to leave his meany special friend behind and never see her again, but the babies would have the worst tummy owies if he did that. Maybe he could stay with her a little longer, just until the babies were weaned? It would be hard, but for his babies he would do it. He’d make Flower the happiest fluffy if it meant all the babies would stay healthy. Poor Speckles though. When he’d found lots of nummies, the baby had waited to eat last, but still got lots of milk. These days though, the nummies were so hard to get. Cold times were getting worse. Sprinkles had never seen a cold time before, but Flower said they were terrible. He steeled his resolve. Tomorrow, he would say goodbye to his human family. Then he would ask the Wumps Wady to take his wumps and give him enough sketties to feed his family for the cold times. Then he would take his babies and their mummah home to keep them safe. When the cold times past and the foals could eat big fluffy nummies, they would all run away from meany Flower. With his heart set, Sprinkles nuzzled his head closer to Speckles sleeping body and drifted off to sleep.

Helen dragged herself out of bed in the morning after only four and a half hours of actual sleep. Stumbling her way to the coffee pot, she fueled up on caffeine and headed down the stairs to open the office. At 7:40 a knock came on the door. A man she assumed was Matt came in. She ushered him to a chair and they began to talk about Sprinkles condition and situation. The man seemed surprised to hear that the stallion had produced offspring in the few weeks he had been gone. Eventually, he asked to see Sprinkles. Knowing that the fluffy’s fate had probably been sealed from the moment he left home, she showed him to the kenel.

Sprinkles lay awake in the crate. He had been up for a small forever having trouble sleeping despite his exhaustion. Every time he tried to close his see-places he would get scared that someone was hurting Speckle and open them again. Without the comfort of a family fluffpile, things just didn’t feel the same. He looked up when the door opened. Sprinkles could hear two sets of walking noises as then came closer. He curled around his foal protectively. The man and Wumps Wady knelt in front of his crate. “Hi Sprinkles, look who’s here to see you. It’s your daddy.” This was it. Sprinkles unwrapped himself from the still sleeping Speckles and nosed his head one more time, just in case it was the last. Walking out of the cage he couldn’t bring himself to look above his daddy’s knees. He sat politely, just like he was trained, “Good bwite time Daddeh.” Matt, never a man of many words, stood still, using his favorite parenting technique of stare at them until they confess to everything. “Spwinkwes am sowwy for wunned away. Was so wonewy. Spwinkwes had wots of saddies aww da time and no could ap- apr- apweciate what Daddeh gibbed. Spwinkwes know am bad fwuffy and no can come back to housie now dat had speciaw huggies, but am happy Daddeh am hewe. Spwinkles wanted to gib daddeh goodbye huggies.

Matt’s eyebrows raised in confusion, “Sprinkles, what do you mean that you can’t come back home after having special huggies?” Sprinkles proceded to talk and talk spilling out all of the lies that Flower filled his head with. How she had been coming around the fence since he was a colt, how once he had gotten out, she said he could never go back, the way she’d been mean to him and then how she’d tried to hurt her own baby for food.

Matt ttared hard at Sprinkles as he ran out of worlds. The fluffy sat on his haunches crying silently, waiting for his Daddeh’s reaction. “Sprinkles, do you know why I am upset with you?” Matt asked calmly.

“Daddeh am upset because Spwinkwes am bad fwuffy.”

Matt sighed, “No buddy, I’m upset because I was worried about you. I thought somebody stole you and then when I found the hole under the fence, I thought a feral fluffy has hurt you. And it looks like one did.” Matt put a hand on Sprinkles’s cheek and the fluffy leaned into the touch. “When a grown up fluffy spends lots of time teaching a littler fluffy stuff and then becomes their special friend, that’s bad. Flower sounds like an awful fluffy. You were just a little colt; you didn’t know any better.”

“Daddeh no hate Spwinkwes?”

“No Sprinkles, I don’t hate you and neither does Mommy or Marigold.”

Sprinkles charges forward climbing into his daddeh’s lap to give him the biggest bestest huggies he could while huhuing loudly. Speckles wakes from all the commotion and waddles out. “Why daddeh hab saddies? Need Speckwe’s huggies?”

Sprinkles eyes alight as he turns between his baby and his daddeh. Slowly, Sprinkles climbs off his daddy’s lap. “Daddeh, dis am Spwinkwes’s wittlest babbeh. Dis am Speckwes. He am gud babbeh. Know pweasies and tank yous. Aways make gud poopies. Pwease no take way babbeh. Spwinkwes wuv Daddeh and Mummah and wittle mummah, but got we-sponsabiwities now.” Sprinkles hung his head sadly and went to sit with Speckles.

Matt held a hand out to the brown foal. Sprinkles looked at him hesitantly before nosing Speckles towards him. The little foal was suckling on his hoof, unsure what was going on. Matt picked up the foal and examined him closely. “Sprinkles, do you know why we picked you over any other fluffy?”

“No daddeh, Spwinkwes no no.”

“Because you are special. You are a fancy fluffy with extra pretty spots that people love. We spent lots of money on you because we knew one day you would have pretty babies.”

Sprinkles looked dumbstruck, “Does dat mean dat Daddeh no am maddies at Spwinkwes? Want wub Spwinkwes babbehs?”

“Yeah, buddy. If he’s a good fluffy, I’m going to love him too. I’m sure Marigold will be happy to have more foals in the house.”

Sprinkles had the biggest heart happies! His daddeh loved him! His daddeh loved his babbeh! Daddeh was so smart and big, surely, he could use human magic to find milk for the babbehs! Now all that was left was to save his other babbehs from meany Flower.

Sprinkles braced himself. This was it. He was going to rescue his babbehs. Sprinkles turned to Helen, “Nice Wady, pwease take Spwinkwes to fwuffy famiwy so can get babbehs back from munstah mummah.” Helen agrees. She picked up Sprinkles and Matt carried Speckles into the exam room. Flower sat on the table watching her babies play huggie tag on the little surface. All the fluffies looked up when the door opened. Flower stood, “Nice wady am find Fwowa’s spechiaw fwiend! Tank you Nice Wady! Nyu Nicey Mistah, pwease gib Poopie babbeh to Wady so bestest mummah Fwowa can hab sketties for make bestest milkies for babbehs. Helen sat Sprinkles down on the table, nodding to Matt, he set Speckles down, but Stayed nearby. Immediately, the two other foal ran up to their tiny brother. “Poopie bwudda! Ou am backsies! Miss ou. Want pway huggies wif babbehs?”

Suprising everyone, Speckles asserted himself. “Dat no am babbeh namsie no moar. Babbeh namie am Speckwes. Speckwes am namied for pretty spottes just like daddehs.”

Helen was worried the foals would have taken more after their mother, but to her relief they accepted this happily. “Dat am such pretty namie for bwudda!” said Bestest.

“Now bwudda got nicey name wike odda babbehs!” Together they curled around each other with coos of “Wuv Speckwes” “Wuv Bestes” “Wuv Fiwwy”.

However, Flower seemed enraged. “No! Babbeh am poopie babbeh. Am onwy good for give wicky-cweanies to mummah and pwetty babbehs. No get pwetty namsie! Mummah name ou Poopie!”

Sprinkles clenched his teeth, walked over and bopped Flower on the nose. “Ou no tawk to Spwinkwes’s babbehs wike dat! Ou am meaniest munstah fwuffy.”

Flower turned to him, “Why huwt gud fwuffy? Fwowa am bestest pwettiest mummah. No gib owies spechiaw fwiend!”

“No!” Sprinkles cut her off rearing up on his hind legs and coming down as hard as his marshmallow hoofs would allow. “Ou said yuself, Spwinkwes no am yu speciaw fwiend anymore. Dese Spwinkwes’s babbehs. Dat mean yu no babbeh’s mummah. Gud mummahs pwotect babbies no twy gib dem hurties! Yu is munstah. MUNSTAH!”

Flower seemed to realize she would get no aid from Sprinkles. “Nice Wady, Dummeh fwuffy being mean. Can take babbeh’s wumps so Mummah and gud babbehs can weave? No want stay wif dummy no spechiaw fwiend anymowe.”

Matt chimed in. “Actually, only feral fluffies can be neutered, and I’ve decided to adopt this little guy.” He guestures to Speckles.

The other foals seem to realize what is being discussed. Bestest being the biggest stands in front of the two other foals, “Bestest no want Speckwes to weave! Fiwwy and Bestest no couwd pway much wif bwudda cause he so wittle, but wuv him awways. Pwease no steaw babbeh nicey man.” Filly seemed to be doing her best to hide the smaller foal under her fluff. It was ineffective, but sweet.

Matt scooped up the whole pile of foals, “Why don’t I just take all of you? I’m your Daddy’s Daddy. We can all go home and be a family. You’ll stay together and never be hungry again.”

Flower gasped, “Weawwy? You be new daddeh for Fwowa and babbehs? Gib homie and sketties and toysies?”

Matt turned, “Not quite. I only want good fluffies. While you are nice looking, you are obviously the worst type of bad fluffy. I don’t care what happens to you”

Helen turns to Flower, “Well dear, you don’t have any babies you can trade for food, but if you let me take away your baby place, I can give you some spaghetti.”

“NO!” Flower shouts, “No take babbeh pwace. Need dat for good feews and make moar babbehs!” She franticly turns side to side before seeing the door to the side that Matt had left open. The exam table was pretty high up, but she was desperate. Flower turned and took a running leap off the table only to crunch as she impacts the floor with her hoofs. A Screech unlike any the office had seen echoed through the room and the mare collapsed on top of her ruined legs howling in pain. Shit sprayed out in a cone from her covering the bottom of the exam table. The babies hide their faces and curl into Matt’s shirt doing their best to hold their scardy poopies in. Seeing the shattered mare, Helen curses. She knew she should have crated them last night. Flower’s legs are destroyed, crushed under her own weight from the height.

Sprinkles turned to Helen and asked her to put him on the floor. Curious to see if the stallion’s affection and instinct would override his hatred, she did so. Sprinkles walked over to the wailing flower, he pretty white fluff covered in tears. He licks softly at her face. “Fwowa hab saddies? Hab wowstest owies? Need huggies to make bettew?” She desperately nodded. “Weww, no am getting dem fwom fwuffy!” He yelled before turning and giving her a face full of sorry poopies. Matt couldn’t help it. He knew he should punish Sprinkles for the outburst, but it was too funny. This awful mare had groomed him, stolen him away, lied to him, starved him, and then abused him and his children. She earned this. Matt moved the squirming babies to one arm and scooped Sprinkles up with the other, careful to keep his rear out of contact.

Matt moved the fluffies back into the kennel room at Helen’s suggestion. They could void their fear poop and comfort each other in peace.

Matt turned to Helen to discuss what happens now. Helen pulls out paperwork for the foals adoption and microchipping, the same procedure that had returned Sprinkles to him. As he fills in the forms, he asks what Helen plans to do with the howling mare in the other room. She shrugs, “Well, she does have great colors, just a terrible personality. She’ll most likely need to be pillowed based on the way she crumpled. There’s two breeding operations I know of around here. One’s a factory set up of chutes and milkbags, the others a ranch type that takes pretty good care of them.”

Matt nods, “You’re talking about Snookums Ranch right? That’s where I got Sprinkles from. They mostly carry designers like our spotted boys here.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. I see who wants her.” Not my problem after that.

Matt turned to the now calmer foals. “So, you seem like good babies, how would you all like new names like Speckles got?” The foals start to attention. “For you little girl, how about Lilly for your pretty pink fur?”

Lilly gasped, “Wiwwy WUV nyu namesie. Tank you new Daddeh Daddeh!”

Matt turned to the colt who was trying to hide behind his sister, “And for you, how about West?”

“Bu- but Bestest wuvs namsie. Am Bestest Babbeh.”

Sprinkles walked over and lowered himself to the foals eye level. “No babbeh. Dere no is bestest babbeh.” He looks at the three foals, making eye contact with all of them, “Aww babbehs am gud babbehs.”


Woo, hurray for the happy life of Sprinkles and his foals. Hate Flower though


Chutes and Milkbags sounds like a fun Fluffy based board game.


Very good story. There is only one problem, it’s not with the story. Sparkles dad is basically proving Flower right. If a fluffy mom knows she can’t keep all the babies alive and the best hope for a fluffy is being clammed by a human and humans do chose fluffys based on looks…
“Bad” colored babies are basically a waste of resources that could be used to keep more likely to survive babies alive.


I wasn’t trying to make a big ethical philosophy out of it. I just wrote a fluffy urban legend and then played out the logical conclusion of it from a hugbox perspective.


So Flower was ab abusing pedophile fluffy that manipulated Sprinkles to get babies and good feels I hope she gets raped to death by smarty’s great story though I loved it


A bit, Flower was a groomer who preyed on the lack of life experience Sprinkles had to shape him hope she wanted.


I really liked the urban legend concept and would love to have a more sadbox or neutral oriented Helen the Lumps Lady story.

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Fluffy Version of snakes and latters. :stuck_out_tongue_winking_eye:

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Yeah but i think most people would take runt or abused baby and rip the asshole mare apart

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No i hope a owner is walking his brown stallion and the mare insults the stallion and the stallion rapes the mare to death

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Awesome story man Flower is such a bitch now karma hits her like a truck! She’s cripple and would be milkbag.

Would be interesting to see how Flower would be her life in the ranch to be a breeder / milkbag.

Now Sprinkles and his babies are in a good home. :sparkles::heart_eyes: