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- >you are now Bit
- >ever since the... incident, Smidget has been rather listless
- >she has also been growing fat
- >still, the OTHER neighbors have brought a whole retarded CLAN of your blighted kin to their home
- >this sets your blood to boiling
- >you watch from the window as they run aimlessly, play "Hide in plain sight and seek"
- >deep down, you want to gore them all, but you'd have about the same luck stabbing them with a banana
- >the trick is killing them without hurting their owners, because they're really nice people
- >you head to brainstorm with Smidget who is now so bloated she can't move under her own power
- >your owner has been acting strangely
- >"Smidget! Wan' heeya ideas on kiwwing da neighbows fwuffy ponies."
- >Smidget groans, "Smidget's tummy ache... gotta poopies..."
- >you frown in a way that would be impossible for lesser ponies and totter off to find you master
- >he's watching tv
- >"Smidget's gonna poop aww ova da fwoor! Go stop."
- >he sighs and grabs a mop while you trot to begin your murderous plot
- >your slip out the extra wide doggy door and check your fence on that side
- >one of the gibbering idiots has already wandered through a hole in the fence
- >it's a brown earth pony with darker splotches you hope are just patterns in the fluff
- >"Hi! New fwiend?" it says as it practically stumbles towards you
- >choking back your bile, you try to sound chipper "Fwiend! Wan' pway game?"
- >it nods hard enough to throw its balance off and your grin grows wolfish
- >"Gawage has pwenty of fun toys..."
- >you love the smell of grass and gasoline that mingles here
- >your companion doesn't, "No smell pwetty..."
- >it still follows you
- >you look over the tools, and the possibilities are... fantastic
- >pitchfork, axe, shovel... you remember how fun it was watching that pegasus burn though...
- >you notice a can of kerosene
- >"Ah! Best toy! Wan' pwetty toy?"
- >the other fluffy grins widely and your weak telekinesis rolls the can from the bottom shelf to you
- >the top pops off
- >"Put your hoofsies in!"
- >certain its new fwiend won't hurt him, the acrid smelling fuel does cause a little cough
- >"Now wun to yo uvvah fwiends!"
- >as he turns you focus on his little hooves, and shoot a stream of sparks from your horn with considerable effort
- >he starts running and ignites
- >it isn't long before screaming starts and you watch from the street
- >the reaction is... glorious
- >as their brother runs around in flames, the fools try to hug him since "huggies make ouchies go'way"
- >they ignite, but just run around aimlessly
- >you sigh with relief when one of them collapses just short of the back door, but now the neighbors are running around with a hose trying to put them out
- >triumphantly you climb through the doggy door
- >your little victory strut continues as long as your poor dexterity allows
- >you trip over one of Smidget's stuffed bears
- >still, you just slew at least seven fluffy ponies with just a few sparks
- >Smidget is going to love hearing about this
- >as you round the corner you hear her talking
- >"Mah babehs... wuv my new babehs..."
- >blood turns to ice-water
- >there lies Smidget with your master
- >with three foals
- >fluffy, light blue foals
- >one has a horn
- >a few more bodies for the pile
- >be Smidget
- >the blind, helpless little babies cling to your fluff
- >your owner had the foresight to by fluffy pony milk in powdered form
- >...not like they could burrow through your fluff anyway
- >Bit is staring in the vicious way, but you're too tired to do more than hold your young
- >"Bit wan' know what's going on heyah!"
- >you don't bother
- >so sleepy
- >be the hapless owner
- >you've seen that look in Bit's eye
- >since Smidget started to swell you've been prepared though
- C'mere Bit
- >he doesn't struggle against you looks daggers at his sons and daughter
- >you've cordoned off a portion of your house for him
- >a play-pen around a tv, his bowls, and his makeshift pony bed
- >"I pwomise not to huht dem..."
- I don't want to risk that, but I want you to think about something...
- >you set him down, and he goes to sit on his bed, trying to lie to you with his puppy-dog eyes
- First, if you love me, you'll tell me the truth, right?
- >Bit rubs his forelegs together
- >"I was gonna kiww dem..."
- Thank you. You should know something though... there's a good chance they'll be more like you and Smidget than the one's you burned today.
- >his eyes go wide like he never considered this possibility
- >you close the door and go to take care of your new foals
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