Smarty mumma

>There’s a small herd of feral fluffies in your backyard.
>You don’t mind fluffies. They’re dumb, sure, but they’re cute. And easily scared.
>You loathe smarty ponies with a passion, though. In your opinion, those arrogant little shits only exist to suffer.
>You go out in the backyard, fully expecting a male unicorn to come at you with his cheeks puffed up telling you to go away “ow gif big ouchies”.
“Nuuu! Meanie hooman munsta, go away! This fwuffy gwass now! Go away, ow gif big ouchies!”.
>The smarty friend is a unicorn, yeah.
>But a unicorn dam.
>A deep red unicorn dam that looks like she’s going to give birth in a few hours. She’s bloated, her stubby legs wobble uselessly and she’s pushed by three stallions.
“Smawty fwiend say this hewd pwace now! Need nummy gwassies fo’ bahbes!”.
>God, she’s annoying.
“Listen... I’m not gonna hurt you, but you can’t stay here. You’ll have to find another place to have your babies”.
>You know it’s not gonna work, but whatever.
>The dam wobbles hysterically.
 “Go away! Hewd gif big huwties!”.
>The three stallion and a couple of mares try to buck your legs or poke you with their stubby horns. >You don’t even feel a thing.
>Without saying a word, you come closer to the pregnant smarty friend, grab her and squeeze her belly.
“Nuuuuuu! Wet smawty fwiend go! No huwt!”.
>You ignore her and keep squeezing her. The rest of the herd just looks at you in awe.
“Stop huwties meanie munsta! Smawty fwiend make big poopies!”.
>Jackpot.
>The dam expels four small foals on the grass. They start mewling immediately.
“Whew bahbes? Wet down smawty fwiend, dum hooman! No cwy, bahbes, smawty fwiend gif hugsies and miwkies!”.
>You put the now shrunken mare down, and she proceeds to lick the foals clean. The moment she tries to give them milk, however, you scoop them up quickly.
“Hooman munsta, gif bahbes back! No huwt bahbes ow gif ouchies!”.
“Shut up, you fucking fluff brain. I have no intention to hurt them”.
>The smarty friends seems confused.
“No… huwt bahbes?”.
>The foals are mewling softly and hugging your fingers, trying to suckle them for milk.
“Why should I? I want to take care of them, since they don’t have a mother”.
>The mare is even more confused.
“Bahbes haf mumma. Smawty fwiend bahbes mumma”.
>You smile.
“No, you’re not. You’re a smarty friend. A smarty friend is not a mumma, right?”.
>You look at the other fluffies. They seem taken aback by your question.
>One of the stallions that had pushed – a bright yellow pegasus -  the dam finally says something.
“Hooman munsta wight. Smawty fwiend is smawty fwiend. Mumma is mumma”.
>You look at the mare.
“See? You’re a smarty friend, so you can’t be these foals’ mother”
>The mare’s eyes bulge. It looks like her brain is trying to explode.
“Fwuffy mumma then! Gif bahbes ow hewd gif big owies!”.
>You shrug.
“If you’re a mumma then you’re not a smarty friend. This means your herd won’t listen to you anymore. As your friend said, a smarty friend is a smarty friend, a mumma is a mumma. Right?”.
>The yellow pegasus nods.
>The mare starts shaking with impotent rage.
“Fwuffy mum… no, smawty f… mumm… smawt… mumma fwien… smawty mumm… DUM HOOMAN, GIF BAHBES BACK OW SMAWTY FWIEND GIF HUWTIES!”.
>You smile again.
“Sounds like you made your decision. Very well”.
>You start going back to your house.
“WHEW TAKE BAHBES! SMAWTY FWIEND WAN’ BAHBES BACK!”.
>You enter in your house and slam the backyard door on the mare’s face with gusto.
>While you clean the four babbling foals, put them in a blanket and start warming some milk, you can hear the smarty friend frantically pounding on your door with her useless hooves.
“G-gif bahbes back!”
>She’s clearly crying now.
“S-smawty fwiend wan’ gif hugsies to bahbes! Wan’ wuv bahbes! P-pwease, gif bahbes back!”.
>You ignore her and start feeding the foals. They squeal in delight while drinking their very first meal.
>Outside, you can hear the voice of the yellow pegasus. He’s apparently talking to the stupid mare.
“Fwuffy no mo’ smawty fwiend. Fwuffy dum fwiend. Fwuffy wet hooman take bahbes”.
>You smirk.
>Everything went better than expected.
“I-if no smawty f-fwiend… Den fwuffy be mumma?”.
>She sounds desperate and broken inside.
>You almost feel pity for her.
>Almost.
>The stallion is clearly not impressed.
“Hooman is mumma now. And fwuffy new smawty fwiend. No wan’ dum fwiend in hewd”.
>You look outside the kitchen window: the herd is going away, leaving the sobbing mare behind.
>That evening, after you put the foals to sleep in a blanket-filled basket near your bed, you go outside.
>The mare is dead. She apparently drowned in her own tears.
>You toss the corpse in your neighbour’s backyard.
>His dog really deserves a treat.