Harbinger: The Rookie 2

> Gently placing scoot into the pen you step over into it.
> “Scoot could you go wake up some friends? I have presents for fluffies.”
> Speaking softly and she runs (see. stumbles) over to the fluff pile.
> “Fwiend wake up! Nice mistah hewe! He gif wuv and is supah nice!”
> Shortly all the fluffies are awake and around you.
> “Wuv nuu mistah! Mistah su nice! Haf nummies?”
> Then the inevitable occurs the blue smarty friend comes to the front.
> His cheeks puffed, horn glowing, and stomping his hooves he begins spouting demands.
> “Hoomin gif nummies tu hewd! If you nuu gif nummies you weave ow we gif biggest ouchies!”
> Greedy little bastard, ending their smarty is the best thing you can do for a herd.
> Unfortunately you’re not here for just one fluffy.
> “I don’t have any nummies but I do have collars, they’ll make you look very handsome.”
> Without waiting for his okay you slip an extra large zip tie around his neck.
> “Looks good smarty friend. Now who else wants a collar?”
> “I wan cowwah! Me me!”
> The fluffies are all at your feet, you begin placing ‘collars’ on each pony.
> Most of the herd responds with a cheer of “Yay! Tankoo mistah! Wuv mistah!”
> After only an hour every pony has a collar, except the foals and babys.
> Double checking each pony you begin your grim task.
> The smarty is first.
> With a sigh and a quick motion you pick up fluffy by the scruff of his neck.
> And pull the zip tie as tight as it will go.
> The smarty is already gurgling and crying.
> After only a few seconds his tongue hangs out and wordless pleas form on his lips.
> His bulging eyes search for a fluffy to help and then fix on you begging for help.
> He will receive no mercy.
> Not that you could save him in time anyway, you left your scissors in the truck.
> The smarty friend continues to struggle as you drop his body.
> He claws at the collar around his neck trying to remove the object to no avail.
> Shitting himself in fear his eyes bug out.
> The act happened so fast most fluffies don’t comprehend what exactly happened.
> They’re still chanting thanks and cheers for their new collars.
> This soon changes.
> Before the smarty has even stopped moving you pick up another pony at random and tighten the tie.
> This happens a few more times before others even notice that the smarty is hurting.
> “Wha happen smawty fwien? Nee huggies? Nuu smeww pwetty!”
> He is too busy clawing at his neck to hug back.
> Foul shit getting all over him and nearby fluffies.
> “Why no huggies? Smawty why huwty? Eww bad poopies!”
> Blood is appearing in his nostril and mouth and he stops struggling.
> For a full minute after he keels over the body spasms drooling onto the ground and tears streaming down his face.
> By the time he has passed more than a dozen fluffies share his fate.
> The fluffies are now panicking.
> As they run for their lives they shit everywhere begging for forgiveness.
> “Why mistah huwt fwuffy? We good fwuffies! You gif nice cowwah! Nuu bad pwease! Ahh! Hewp munstah haf fwuffy!”
> They begin panicking as you pick them up.
> “Ahh! No wan sweepie! Hewp! Hewp! He- ghaablah gaa!”
> The screams replaced with garbled chokes and gurgles.
> The suffering fluffies are left and the herd scatters without their smarty friend.
> It’s a good thing you put up the fence.
> “Wewe owange waa come frum! Wet out! Nee hewp meanie waa! Munsta afta fwuffies hewp!”
> They’re trying to plead with the fence.
> Those around you are either paralyzed with fear, still trying to bargain with you, or suffocating.
> The suffocating fluffies wiggle around shitting on themselves and anyone around.
> Some unable to comprehend that the collar is chocking them running around in circles trying to make the hurties go away.
> Some hug one another for comfort others cry silent tears and roll on the ground, they all die slowly.
> With all the nearby fluffies dying the only ones left in arms reach are a few dying foals mewling and chirping quietly.
> Trampled in the ensuing panic by negligent mothers and fathers.
> “Mumma… wuv… wuv… mummah… wuv… hewp… mummah… wuv… hewp…”
> They’re too young to even speak properly, or maybe it’s the pain.
> Bodies broken and crushed.
> Despicable.
> You grant them a quick death.
> As you pick them up they cry with all their remaining strength.
> “HEWP! HEWP! HEWP! HEWP!”
> A quick pinch of the head and body.
> And a flick of the wrist.
> You now move to the center of the pen.
> catching fluffies is easy, but you scare them now.
> “ROAR”
> Yeah that oughta do it.
> “NUU FWUFFIES WUN! WUN FRUM MUNSTA! HEWP HEWP!”
> They shit themselves in fear and run in circles eyes closed.
> Several bump into trees with loud, “Owies, nuu huwt fwuffy!”
> They cower before their attackers, trees.
> You walk over one by one and tighten the ties.
> This continues for about half an hour.
> Several dozen fluffies are hiding or running around where the fluff pile was.
> Fond memories of sleep, or scary meanie waa forcing them to the center.
> After another half hour the now shit stained, corpse covered fluffy pile has nothing but sleeping fluffies.
> No more fluffies are readily seen running around.
> As you make your way to the wall you see the remainder of the herd.
> They have rammed themselves into the holes in the plastic fence in an attempt to escape.
> The remaining fluffies are all stuck in the fence just slightly too small for them to fit through.
> Foals small enough to fit through try to pull their parents or are too afraid to run away.
> Justasplanned.swf