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- >you are now Jethro
- >despite your rustic exterior, you are an educated man of philosophical leanings
- >you work as a farm hand because a masters in humanities is really just expensive toilet paper
- >the new guy is finally catching on to the callousness this job requires
- >raising fluffy ponies is dirty, emotion-deadening work
- >most of the time you block it out
- >except when you have to amputate a fluffy ponies limbs
- >it is precise work that requires focus or you could kill the merchandise or lose a finger to the saw
- >some inner sadistic half of you does churn with glee when it finally hits the fluffy pony that its legs just got sawed off, and is then seared with a blowtorch
- >you do take a bit of solace that they'll become a cherished pet
- >you showed him how to do it, but he's still very green
- >one of them slipped his grip while cutting the first forelimb
- >damned shed door wasn't locked and the little guy escaped
- >at least escaped into the main paddock, scaring the hell out of the rest of the herd before bleeding out
- >took the heat so new guy wouldn't get sacked
- >"accidents happen" you said
- >of course, now you're cleaning out the stables
- >you wouldn't mind if so many of the fluffies didn't try to play Hide and Seek among their dead...
- >it keeps happening
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