My Giant and Me (A Fluffy Pony Hugbox Story) Part 5

My Giant and Me, Part 5

>Be the Owner of Bruce the Saint Bernard, Silk the Red Earth Fluffy Pony and her three foals, a Pink Unicorn, a Red Pegasus, and an Albino Earth Fluffy.
>Bruce spent the night indoors, a rare occurance because he's not house-trained, but you were concerned enough about the state you found Silk in when you came home on Friday that you felt spoiling her by letting the 'Honorary Fluffy' go inside as well was warranted.
>Her Fluff had been torn off in clumps in some places, her face, legs and backside were just massive bruises where a 'white meanie mawe' had kicked and bitten her repeatedly to get at her Foals.
>And there's worse. The bastard whoreson asshole of a Fluffy Pony that raped Silk in the first place is still lurking around, except this time, he brought his entire Herd to help steal away your little Fluffy. The Herd has already done a number on both your Garden, and your Fluffy.
>Several dozen expensive ferns and succulents mangled, possibly beyond repair, and there's bits of Fluffy Pony fluff and streaks of their shit all over the place.
>You're half tempted to turn on the sprinklers again and drive the Ferals out so they can watch you introduce a belt-sander to the Pink Pegasus Smarty Friend and the White Mare Bitch, but that's ... too much.
>Although you are sorely tempted. Hearing Silk whimper in her sleep, reliving the assault in her dreams, made both you and Bruce incredibly upset and angry.
>So, first, there's some prep work to do. Silk can spend the day inside, watching cartoons with her Babies and Bruce. You will be putting out some 'very special' Spaghetti in a disposable tin cooking platter, and then going into your shed to prepare the second half of the Plan.
>The 'Very Special' Spaghetti is the out of date stuff, the cans you get from the bargain bin at the $2 dollar shop for Silk for when she needs cheering up. There's probably enough spaghetti here for four people to fill up on, let alone a dozen small critters.
>Hopefully, when they've finished, they'll be too fat and sleepy from gorging on their favourite food to run, and you won't have to spend the day trying to drag the little Fluffy mongrels out of your already-abused Garden.

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>Be the Pink Pegasus Smarty Friend. Woke up cold on the outside of the Hugpile, stiff and sore and still furious at ... well, everything.
>Rolling around on the wet grass after being blasted with cold water was the second least fun thing you've ever done, but at least it got rid of most of the poop stuck in your fluff.
>The First Least Fun Thing was having the Giant Dog Munsta tear off your tail ... every time you take a step, the place where your tail used to be stings terribly!
>Your Stallions didn't want to leave the Hug-Pile, they were warmer than you were, being so tightly packed together, and you could see the Fluffy Mummas at the back, deep asleep with their Foals clustered on their bellies snoring and suckling drowsily on the teats...
>Snarl softly and circle the Hug-Pile, looking for a likely spot to squeeze in and get warm. If not for the Bad Mumma commenting on how bad you smelt, you could be asleep right between the Fluffy Mummas, cradled in their soft, warm, sweet-smelling fluff with their Babies to play with.
>Speaking of the bitch ... she's been kicked away from the pile, curled up into a little ball of damp, shivering fluff under a fern frond, whimpering in her sleep.
>"Nuuu ... my baybehs ... wan m-my baybeh back ..." You hear her whimper in her sleep. Good, hope it's a terrible nightmare. She keeps losing her foals and trying to steal the foals of the Good Mummas in your Herd, even before the majority of your Mares ran away when a larger Herd promised them 'Sketti'.
>Stuuuuuuuuuuuupid Mares. Sketti doesn't exist outside ... out ...
>What is that wonderful smell? It's so glorious, it makes even the ache from the place your tail used to be fade away as your mind fixates on this heavenly scent ...
>Is that ... out in the middle of the Grass ... could it possibly be?
>"SKETTIES!" You yell in delight, making the entire Herd wake up in a babble of  confusion. "Wook, Fwuffies, Smawty Fwiend find Sketties fo' yuu!"
>Now you're given Hugs! You're almost annoyed by them now, because the more you are hugged, the less time you have to eat the Magic Sketties before they get cold! Eventually you manage to wriggle out of the apologising, hugging mob and charge out onto the grasses, grinning eagerly as the huge, heaped platter of Spaghetti steams in the cold morning air, the frost-crisp grass crackling under your hooves.
>"Huwwy! Haf Nummy-Sketties!" You urge, shuffling out at the head of the Herd as they rush out from the bushes at the corner of the yard, babbling excitedly, pushing and shoving to be the first to taste the delicious Spaghetti.
>As Smarty Friend, and more importantly, as the one who made it out first, you plough into the giant mound of Sketti up to your front legs, burying your face into the pile of long, soft noodles and delicious red sauce, savouring the warmth, the smell, the sheer unadulterated feeling of bliss at the luxury of having your head, neck, shoulders and chest slathered in this wondrous gift from the Gods.
>And then some asshole of a Fluffy bites you, right on the Owies where your tail used to be! Open your mouth to scream, but a thick, sauce-covered noodle slides into your mouth and nearly chokes you, so you retaliate as best you can in this situation.
>Buck whatever Dummy Fluffy that bit you, probably in the face, and start to chew like a Fluffy possessed! Nothing else matters! The scent, the taste, the texture of the Spaghetti is everything you ever imagined that this wondrous ambrosia your Mother's Mother told you of in the long-lost days of your Foal-hood would be.
>Finally, the rest of the Herd is chowing down as well, you can feel fluffy shoulders rubbing against your own as the Stallions press in to get their fair share, and the wondrous feeling of being engulfed in spaghetti fades to being cold again as the cool wind takes all the delicious warmth out of the sauce covering your face, head and chest and leaves you cold and shivering again.
>"Whewe Bad Mumma?" You ask, but every Fluffy is too busy eating, and you can see the three remaining Foals of your Herd perched on the backs of the Mummas, eyeing the Spaghetti with huge, awe-filled eyes.
>You feel so sorry for them, they are too young to have any Spaghetti. But maybe you can keep some aside for them for la ....
>"DAT WAS SMAWTY FWIEND'S SKETTI-PIECE!" You shout angrily at a Stallion who lurched forward to snatch a mouthful from directly under your head, who merely sticks his tongue out, spilling most of his prize back onto the platter, and the two of you furiously butt heads as you both struggle and squabble over the spilled mouthful!
>Fluffies slurp up noodles, take big bites out of swirls of sauce and spaghetti, lick and chomp and chew, jostling and kicking and whacking each other with their heads to fight for their share of the Spaghetti, which is rapidly disappearing under the combined onslaught of thirteen starving Feral Fluffy Ponies.
>It makes you so mad, so angry that the Herd keeps trying to eat more than their fair share of the Spaghetti! This is yours, all yours!
>And it makes you even madder when you hear the Stallions nearby muttering that this Spaghetti is theirs, and everyone else should stop eating it!
>Fluffy Mummas are at the far end of the grunting, slurping, chewing mob, gobbling down great mouthful of Spaghetti eagerly, bumping aside Stallions and snapping at the Fluffies who glower at them, desperate to get to the remaining portions of the Spaghetti and shouting at the top of their lungs "Need Nummies tu make Miwk-Nummies fo' Baybehs! Sketti make bestest Miwk-Nummies, Mummas need moar Sketties!"
>Maybe it's true, Spaghetti is heavenly, so maybe it will make the Fluffy Mumma's Milk taste even better, and the Foals will grow up even bigger and stronger! But you feel even angrier now! This is your Spaghetti! Yours! All of it!
>And the Bad Momma is suddenly there too, glaring at you even as boo-boo juices drip from her muzzle, shoving aside a Stallion to gorge herself on your Spaghetti! That useless, worthless Mare! This is YOUR SPAGHETTI!
>"Nu wet Bad Mumma haf Sketties, dey fo' Guud Fwuffies!" You shout, scowling as the Stallions groan and blow messy raspberries at you. "An' gif moar Sketties tu Smawty Fwiend, Sketties hewp Smawty's owies tu, gif moar tu Smawty Fwiend!"
>"Nu! Stawwions haf wun awound aww day, fite Bad Fwuffies, wose dere Speshaw Fwiend when Smawty nu fite Otha Bad Hewd!" One of your Toughies shouts back, spraying you with sauce-flavoured saliva and shreds of mangled spaghetti. "Stawwions ... nu, Fwuffie shouwd haf Sketties, nu Mummas who twy to weave tu, nu Smawty Fwiend who nu wet Hewd weave dis pwace!"
>Now the squabbling begins in earnest, tempers fraying and friendships strained to the breaking point, as the Fluffy Mummas pressed tightly together, snarling and snapping at the Stallions, who slam their heads against each other's neck and shoulders, screaming that they are the biggest, smartest, toughest Fluffy, they should have the remainder of the Spaghetti, with you screaming and head-butting and kicking the most.
>"SOWWY POOPIES! SMAWTY GIF BAD FWUFFIES SOWWY POOPIES!" You scream in rage, fuming at this display of disloyalty from your Herd, turning around and squealing as the muscles under your skin move and tear at the fragile scabs over the injury where your tail used to be.
>"Nu, Fwuffie gif yuu Sowwy Poopies!" The Bad Mumma squeals, and then everyone is yelling they will give Sorry Poopies to everyone who stands between them and their Spaghetti!
>Prrrrrrrrrrrsssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhttttttttttttttttttttt!!!
>Oh by the Fluffy Gods, the smell! It's terrible! You can feel your whole rear end being coated in Sorry Poopies as you shake it back and forth to hit as many Fluffies as you can, but surely your own Sorry Poopies are stronger! The Herd will feel your wrath!
>And then you will have the rest of your hard-won meal in peace ....
>The Spaghetti .... in between the fighting Herd ...
>That is spraying each other with everything they've got in an orgy of diarrheatic fury!
>Turn around to shout at the Herd to stop ... and begin to sob.
>The Spaghetti is now completely covered in a thick slurry of dirty, stinky Sorry Poopies. It is ruined now! Completely and utterly inedible!
>Other Fluffies are turning around as well, their smug or angry looks fading into shock and horror as they see the last Spaghetti they will likely ever see in this life completely ruined.
>"N-nuuuuu." You whimper, gazing with horror at the  befouled Spaghetti. "W-why Bad Fwuffies wuin Smawty Fwiend's Sketties! Why yuu do dis tu Fwuffy?"
>"Nu, is Smawty Fwiend's fauwt! Smawty Fwiend gif Sowwy Poopies fiwst!" A Stallion replies bitterly, glaring at you.
>"Yuu take dat back!" You snarl, feeling the rage build up inside you again. "Fwuffy Mummas twy tu take aww Sketties fiwst! Nu Smawty's fauwt!"
>One of the Fluffy Mummas starts to babble that it's not her fault, even as the other backs away, shouting for her Babies franticly, snuffling at the grass.
>In the frenzy of the Mutual Sorry Poopies, it seems the Babies were thrown off their mothers' back as the Fluffy Mummas turned around too fast, and now the panicked Foals won't come near their Mummas, whose backs, sides and bellies are now dripping with a slick, foul coating of Sorry Poopies!
>"Mumma! Nu! Yikky!" A baby whines loudly, flailing it's legs at the Mumma's teat as the Mumma desperately tries to feed it some 'Dewicious Sketti-Miwk-Nummies!' before the Foal manages to turn awkwardly and fall onto it's belly, crawling away from it's sobbing Mother, who has resorted to hugging herself for comfort after being 'rejected' by her only Foal.
>All three of the Herd's Foals squeal in protest at the state of their Mothers, dripping with foul-ness, and crawl as best they can across the cold, hard grass, whimpering and crying, while the Fluffy Mummas start to desperately roll in the grass to clean themselves, whining about not being pretty anymore.
>The Fluffy Mummas scowl, kicking at each other as they bump into each other while rolling on the grass, complaining loudly about being cold and wet because of 'Bad, Stuuuuupid Stawwions!'
>And just like that, everyone's tempers boil over.
>Wether it was due to the Herd spending a night in freezing conditions with a terrible monster nearby, some side-effect of the out-of-date Spaghetti, or the fact that half of their Herd, their family, had abandoned them for the very thing that they had just defiled, but whatever triggered it, the Feral Fluffy Ponies fall upon each other in a frenzy, kicking, grappling, biting, pulling on each other's Fluff and Ears and Tails, and you, the Smarty Friend, are right in the thick of it.
>See the Fluffy Mummas howling in self-righteous fury, pushing down a squealing Stallion under their combiend weight, beating him furiously with their front hooves even as they shriek at each other for eating more Spaghetti than the other one did, and risking their own babies starving.
>The Foals are having none of this, and crawl for their lives at a snail-like pace towards the Smaller Hoomin Building called the 'Shed', mewling and crying pitifully as their family degenerates into a screaming, bloodied mob fighting in and amongst the shit-covered Spaghetti.
>"Dis aww yuu fauwt!" A Stallion screams at his father as the two go rolling through the brawl, tripping other Fluffies as they pound away at each other with their soft hooves.
>"Nevah wiked yuu! Yuu Meanie Fwuffie!" One of your Toughie Friends howls as you pull on his tail while another Toughie Friend tugs on his ears, until another Stallion tackles you, screaming wordlessly in a frenzy of hate and frustration as you tumble together in a kicking, howling, biting ball of anger across the shit-and-spaghetti mess.
>"Yuu is stuuuuuuuupid! Yuu suuuuuuuu ug'wee! HATE YUUUUUUUUUUUU!" The Fluffy Mummas shriek at each other as the Stallion they were fighting runs back into the scrum, away from the enraged Mares, leaving the two Fluffy Mummas to grapple and bite at each others ears in their fury.
>"Had Speshaw Huggies wit' yuu Speshaw Fwiend! An' she wike it moar wit' me!" A Stallion taunts his brother before another Stallion bucks him in the back of the leg, sending the taunting Stallion down with a pained shriek, and his infuriated brother rushes forwards and bites his taunting brother around the throat, eyes rolling in a berserk fury, shaking his head back and forth relentlessly.
>You, the Pink Pegasus Smarty Friend, are deep in the brawl, slamming a Stallion repeatedly into the shit-covered spaghetti by the scruff of his neck, clenched bruisingly tight in your teeth, howling insults around your mouthful of fluff and skin as the Stallion's face bangs repeatedly on the tin platter. Fluffies all around you scream and brawl and howl out their grievances, turning from one Fluffy to another as they are gripped by an insatiable rage.
>And then ...

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>Be Silk the Fluffy Mumma. Be so proud of your babies.
>They are clustered on top of Bruce's head, watching the Funny Ponies on the Magic Picture Box, cheering and waving their legs eagerly at the television as the Pink Pony starts to sing again.
>So proud. So happy. You're glad that the Babies are playing nicely with each other. They are so good, you don't have to worry about the Babies being mean to each other when they are hungry anymore, because they only have a little, hug each other, and then let the third sibling have some milk before swapping again.
>Pink and Red Babies are about a third bigger than their White sibling, but they are gentle and sweet to White, and White is starting to hug them and tell your first two Babies he 'wuvs' them too.
>Bruce is being very good and lying still under the babies, tail thumping on the carpet, as they sit on his head and try to make words at the Magic Picture Box.
>Red and Pink are only three days old, White only two, so they ... don't have many words, but they are picking them up so fast now.
>Their vocabulary of"Wuv", "Mumma" and "Miwk" has been joined by "Fwuffie", "Bwuce", "Daddy", "Brudda", "Sissy", "Scawy", "Nummies" and "Meanie" in their little vocabularies, and Pink and Red are even using sentences now.
>Daddy went outside some time ago to do something about the Bad Fluffies, but he made you eat a lot of food and have a lot of milk. Almost too much. Just want to nod off and go to sleep ....
>But! You can't! Babies need you, especially now you have three of them! They don't know how to use a litterbox, and you don't want to upset Daddy, not after he's been so kind and forgiving.
>Daddy explained that the White Baby was a 'runt' and that the Bad Fluffies abandoned it. That made you very sad, and you hugged your White Baby and cried afterwards.
>How could anyone not love these lovely little foals? It made you so sad to think a Fluffy Mumma like you could leave behind something so precious!
>Red and Pink have got White squished between them, and all three are hugging and cheering as the Funny Ponies on the Magic Picture Box run around chasing some small brightly coloured bugs.
>Hmmm ... the Babies are very good ... and Bruce is with them ...
>Maybe a little nap?

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>Be Bruce, the Saint Bernard.
>It's fun to be inside. Even with the noisy glowy thing.
>Silk's pups are sitting on your head, making happy nosies.
>This is a good thing.
>Owner said you could stay inside.
>Gave you lots of pats.
>And a treat even.
>This is a very good thing.
>You kind of want to get up and run around, so you lift your head gently and drag yourself on your belly to keep your head low, so the pups don't get scared at being so high.
>You remember when the Owner used to do that when you were a pup.
>It was fun, but it was also a bit scary, and these pups are so small.
>Silk is asleep, sitting on her bottom, leaning back against the Owner's chair.
>It must be tiring being a Mother. You remember your Mother was always sleeping a lot before you came to live with the Owner.
>The Pups on your head all babble "Mumma!" and "Miwk!", clambering down your face and your muzzle to leap onto the soft carpet and waddle towards their mother.
>The Little White Pup is the last down, and he turns to hug your muzzle as best he can, rubbing his face on your muzzle before shuffling over to hug his pink sister and wait for his turn at the teats.
>The Little White Pup must be very grateful you found him and brought him back to his Mother.
>Wander off to have a drink from your water-bowl and fetch Silk's favourite toy, a very ragged Teddy Bear, and place it next to her.
>Maybe, when she wakes up, she'll play with you again, like she used to. Maybe she can teach her Pups to play as well, and then you can all play in the Garden when the Owner gets rid of the Nasty Things that hurt Silk.
>That would be a very very good thing.
>For now, you'll watch over Silk's pups, whuffling happily as you watch the Red and Pink Foals help their White sibling climb up into Silk's fluff to reach her teats.

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>Be the Owner of Silk and Bruce, and you're staring at the three foals all clinging to your boots with a mixture of surprise and horror.
>Surprise that they'd think a 'Munsta' like you would save them. "Hewp! Wan wuv, wan Miwk! Mumma scawy!".
>Horror as you watch the Ferals thrash about in a shit-and-blood-and-spaghetti covered pile, screaming abuse at each other and tearing out mouthfuls of fluff as they deliver devastating (to Fluffy Ponies) kicks to each other.
>The two Pregnant Dams are slightly separate from the main mob, grappling each other tightly and rolling around and around on the grass, swearing and tugging on each other's ears, unable or unwilling to release the other to get a better target for their aggressions.
>And right at the front of the self-destructing Herd is that little Pink Pegasus Arsehole, slamming one of his friend's face into the bottom of the platter repeatedly, while the White Mare who hurt Silk is trying her best to pull the Pink Arsehole's back leg off with her teeth.
>Grab the Foals as gently as you can off your boots and cradle them to your chest as you turn around shuffle around the brawling Herd to take them inside.
>Silk can look after them for you while you sort this mess out.
>What the hell is this? Fluffy Pony Wrestlemania?

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>Be Silk the Fluffy Mumma. You were having a dream about the Garden, playing 'Peek-Boo' with Bruce and Daddy and your Babies, and then something woke you up.
>Your belly feels ... heavy. Bruce is whining ... and you think you heard the Door close, that loud squeaky clicking noise.
>Your eyes are sticking closed, but you feel your babies clutching your fluff tightly. They are so heavy .... wait.
>One, two, t-three .... uhm .... four .... five .... what, that can't be right! You only have three beautiful babies!
>Open your eyes and stare at your belly in surprise, your jaw dropping to rest on your chest-fluff.
>Red and Pink and White are hugging your teats, but there's strange Babies hugging the fluff above the teats!
>A Green baby, an Orange baby and a Purple baby! Where did they come from? You didn't feel any Baby-Coming-Owies, and you aren't that big and round anymore! They don't have the yikky coating that your Babies had when they came out either!
>"Mu-mummaaaaa...." The Orange Baby whines, clutching your fluff and sobbing into it, while your Red, White and Pink babies cling to your teats possessively and frown.
>"New ... Sissies?" Red asks, giving you a curious look. White whimpers and hugs one of your teats, burying his face in the soft flesh and whispy fluff, while Pink puffs out her cheeks and whispers "Scawy..."
>"W-whewe Bay-behs come fwom?" You ask in shock, timidly stroking the Newer Babies with a hoof and flinching as you feel how wet and cold their fluff is! "New Bay-behs haf Wa-Wa's! Cowdsies! Nu can haf moar baybehs, nu moar baybehs, Siwk haf thwee Bay-behs awweady!"
>The three newcomers stare at you sadly, whimpering and clutching your fluff tighter. They look so frightened, so lost ... but you are only just making enough milk for your three babies as it is, even with all the food that Daddy is making you eat! But you can't just ....
>"H-hungwy ..." "W-w-wan Mummaaaaa...." "Pwease, huggies, cowdsies..." They whimper.
>Your three Babies all frown again and clutch your teats between them so tightly it almost hurts. Red and Pink start to suckle immediately, eyes flicking nervously between the three newcomers as they drink like they are starving, while White nervously kneads your soft skin with his hooves, waiting for his turn.
>"Mumma ... Wuv Mumma, nu wan nu haf Miwk ... " He whispers, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "Nu wan ... meanies ... Mumma nu wuv White nu moar!"
>"Nu! Mumma wuv yuu, White, Mumma wuv yuu an' Wed an' Pink suuu much, pwomise!" You say loudly, making the three Newer Babies cry louder, and your three Babies smile again, even if only for a few moments.
>Bruce is staring at the Newer Babies with concern, although he doesn't seem to be angry, just confused. He doesn't know where the Newer Babies came from either, it seems!
>"S-Siwk gif Huggies, buh miwk-nummies fo' Siwk's Baybehs fiwst." You compromise, hugging the newcomers with your front legs and your babies with your back legs and tail, awkwardly at that, but it seems to calm down your babies. "Siwk's Baybehs haf Miwk, den haf Huggies wit' Bwuce."
>"Owr Miwk!" Red declares triumphantly, and White looks a lot less nervous. Pink still suckles, but it's not quite such a hard suction that tickles your teat, more a comfort action now as her mouth works around the nub of flesh slowly.
>You're so nervous as you cuddle the Newer Babies to your chest and they squirm and whimper and clutch at your fluff. These aren't your babies. You can smell other Fluffies on them. Stinky Fluffies. Feral Fluffies...
>Angry Fluffies. You can smell the adrenaline on the Foals from their Mothers, even if you don't understand it, and it makes you think of how the White Mare smelled, and how the Horrible Pink Pegasus Stallion smelled when you tried to run away from him the first time.
>"P-pwease nu huwt Siwk's Baybehs ..." You beg the Newer Foals as Red stops suckling and helps White climb up your fluff to reach the milk-and-spit covered teat, biting your lip nervously as the scent of your warm milk wafts up, and the three Newcomer Foals start to squeak louder.
>"MIWK!" "Nummies!" "W-wan Nummmies!" The Orange, Purple and Green Newer Babies mumble through your fluff, squirming under your legs as you try to hold them back until your Babies are done.
>Finally, White and Pink are done feeding, and they shuffle over to Bruce with Red, hiding in Bruce's fluff, between his great big head and his great big leg and under his big floppy ears, watching nervously as you finally lift your hooves, and the three Newer Babies squirm down to your teats.
>You're very worried. Do these Newer Babies mean the Bad Fluffies are in the house now! Have you been made a part of the Horrible Pink Fluffy's Herd now? Is that White Meanie Mare going to hurt your babies again!
>The Green Foal is first to the teats, grabbing one and hugging it desperately, mouthing at the soft skin around the teat itself, while the Orange one immediately goes for the other teat and begins suckling, although you know there's just barely enough milk left for one baby, let alone two or three.
>The Purple Foal climbs over the green and tries to wrap it's mouth around the teat, but the Green Foal must have remembered what a teat is for, and tries to do the same, with the two Foals struggling over the sensitive nub of flesh as you squirm and whimper as their little hooves squeeze and squash your teat.
>"Miwk! Wan miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiwk!" The Purple Foal squeals, while the Green Foal cries "Meanie! Meanie! Meanie!" shrilly as the two tug your teat back and forth between them.
>The Orange Foal sucks desperately, shoving the entire teat into it's mouth in desperation, kneading the flesh around your teat to try and force more milk out, but there's barely any left after feeding your own babies.
>"P-pwease nu fite, nu haf moar miwk." You whisper, starting to cry as the Newer Babies sob and squabble and hurt you, and Bruce whines unhappily, your own Babies whimpering and hugging each other in the safety of the Saint Bernard's thick, warm fluff.
>Where's Daddy! You need Daddy! This is all just so, so wrong!

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>"HATE YUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" You scream at the Bad Mumma as you roll and roll through the Sorry-Spaghetti, tearing at each other's fluff as the other Bad Fluffies stagger away, crying about their Owies and the waste of the Spaghetti, but you won't stop, you won't stop until the Bad Mumma admits she is a Bad Mumma and apologises for losing your Herd's Babies!
>The Bad Mumma squeals in pain as you grab hold of her bottom lip and pull, yanking it away from her teeth and pulling and pulling and pulli-
>COLD WA-WA'S! Right on your Poopie Place!
>Scream in shock and outrage as you and the Bad Mumma are pushed apart by the powerful stream of Cold Water, and you can dimly hear the rest of your Bad-Fluffies Herd squealing in terror as the Hoomin from yesterday appears, brandishing a Long Green Meanie Toy that sprays out the Cold Water, blasting your Fluffies around like they were leaves in the breeze.
>Well, they're cleaner now. But the Spaghetti is still ruined! You won't forgive them, you won't, you won't, you wo-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!
>Bad Mumma got up first and is biting your ear! Ow Ow Ow!
>"Nuuu, Eaw nu weave Smawty Fwiend!" You shriek as the Bad Mumma puts a hoof on your shoulder and pulls her head back, making your ear stretch and tear!
>"Hate yuu! Fwuffie is nu Bad Mumma, Bad Wed Mumma stowe Mumma's Foaws! Mumma kiww Bad Wed Mumma an' take back hew Baybehs!" The Bad Mumma screams, then she's blasted away, and the Hoomin is there.
>Huge, unstoppable ....
>Angry!
>"So, you two are the ringleaders? Figures that it would be you two!" He shouts angrily, blasting you with the hose again and pulling out a roll of shiny silver stuff from a pocket in his pants ...
>Pulls out a length of the shiny silver stuff with a horrible noise, and every Fluffy squeaks in alarm.
>You don't understand why you fear the Electrical Tape, you just do.
>Then the Bad Mumma is being dropped next to you as you are both rolled onto your back, and then the Angry Hoomin wraps the Shiny Silver Stuff around your left front leg and the Bad Mumma's right front leg, and then your left back leg and the Bad Mumma's right back leg.
>"Right, that oughta keep you two from killing each other, and as for the rest of you ... get lost!" The Hoomin shouts, standing up and turning the wrath of his Hose on your Bad-Fluffy Herd, driving them around the grasses with the sheer force of the Cold Water until one shrieks out, not in fear or pain, but surprise!
>"Found Howe! FOUND HOWE! FWUFFIES FOWWOW SMAWTY FWIEND!" The Stallion shouts, rolling to his feet and shuffling desperately between two bushes.
>Surprisingly, the Hoomin turns the hose off the Herd, merely scowling at the Fluffies as they all rush for the Hole to the Outside!
>"Nuuu, Smawty ovah hewe, why weave Smawty! SMAWTY OVAH HEWE!" You shriek in outrage and shock. Not a single Fluffy turned to obey you, and after all you had done for them!
>Tried to get to your feet, but the Bad Mumma is squealing and struggling, making your legs move against your will! All you're doing is wriggling and bumping along the grass, getting your fluff soaked as you snap at each other and shout insults.
>"Wet Smawty get up! Bad Mumma! Haf gif Owies tu Stawwion who take Smawty's Hewd!" You demand, trying to roll onto your side, but the Bad Mumma is too heavy and too mean to obey like a Fluffy should!
>"Yuu dummy! Wet gu of Mumma!" She shrieks back, slamming the side of her face into yours, and the both of you scream "OWIES!" as your already ravaged faces smush against each other, bone, flesh and teeth grinding against each other for a painful moment before you both flinch away from the contact.
>"Bad Fwuffie! Bad Fwuffie!" You shriek, trying to kick her, but your legs are tied too tightly to get any slack in the silvery tape binding you together, so all you do is wriggling around more on your back and squirm around.
>The Hoomin is shouting Bad Words at the Hole, shoveling great Munsta-sized handfuls of dirt into it and packing it down tightly, and you can faintly hear the two Good-Bad Mummas bawling for their Babies, but that's not important right now!
>"Wet ... gu ... of ... Smawty!" You grunt with each exertion to try and tip the Bad Mumma over you so you can get back on your hooves, but she's too heavy and mean and stupid and ugly and .... raaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!
>Turn your head to the right as far as you can and whip it around to your left as fast as you can!
>Owies for the Bad Mumma! Owies so she learns to obey!
>Whack! as you bruised and bloodied mouth slams against hers, teeth clacking and chipping against each other, sending waves of pain flooding through you both!
>"OWIES!" You both scream and begin to spasm and wriggle again in the throes of your rage and pain.

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>So there's the damn hole ... that must be how this mess started in the first place! When the water pipes burst after that last earth-quake, they must have eroded the dirt under the walkway between your block and the one just across the narrow concrete walkway, and the erosion was enough for the concrete to crack and expose a gap where the dirt had drained away under your fence.
>Hidden between the two thick evergreen bushes, you must have walked past it hundreds of times ....
>But the Feral Herd is gone now, although you can hear the former-mothers bawling their little black hearts out as the Stallions bully them away.
>Can't really find the fucks to give about their situation. You always thought Fluffy Ponies were gentle, loving little creatures, but what you saw ... damn things were trying to kill each other after shitting all over the Spaghetti you made for them.
>Why in the hell did they do that anyways? Ruin perfectly good food, and their favourtie food in the world at that? Do Fluffy Ponies get rabies or some sort of weird ass ....
>"HATE YUUUUUUUU!" Two tiny, squeaky voices scream in a hateful duet behind you.
>Ah, the Bitch and the Bastard.
>Time for some 'Just-us' for your Silk and your beloved Garden.
>Stomp over to the two struggling, bloodied Fluffies, squirming along the grass on their backs, and poke them with the toe of your boot until they focus on you.
>"You two are going to stay together like that, until you apologise to Silk for hurting her, and until you learn to get along." You say loudly, grimacing as you see the obvious injuries on the Smarty Friend.
>Looks like Bruce got started without you. That's .... out of character. Then again, Silk's possibly the only thing that damn puppy loves more than you.
>"Nu! Am Smawty! Nu haf weggie-huggies wit' Dumb Meanie Ugwy Stuuuuuuupid Bad Mumma!" The Pink Pegasus shrieks, trying to kick the White Mare with their tied-together legs.
>"Hate yuu! Bad Smawty Fwiend! Nu wet Mumma get hew Baybehs back! Wuin Sketties! Hate yuuuuuuuuuuuuu!" The White Earth Fluffy repsonds in kind.
>It would be pitiful if you didn't have such loathing for these two wretches.
>Whatever. Grab them and carry the two squirming, kicking, squealing Ferals to the Shed, and Apply some emergency first-aid to the Smarty Friend before introducing the Cell-Mates to their new Home, up until they get along, at least.
>You give them an hour before they try mutual suicide just to ensure the other one dies.
>But as soon as you secure the two Jailbirds in their new Home, you rush back to the House, hoping that Silk is handling the orphaned Foals alright.

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>Be a Green Pegasus Stallion, sobbing with fear and shame as you look over the Herd, no, Your Herd.
>Nobody can bear to look at each other, nobody is hugging, everyone is looking down at the ground and sobbing and bawling.
>The two Mummas have collapsed to the ground, hugging themselves and rolling into tight balls of wet fluff and tears.

>"B-b-bay-beeeeeeeeeeehs!" One screams, rocking back and forth. "Baybehs back wit' Dummy Fwuffies an' Hoomin! Baybehs need Mumma!"
>Other Fluffies try to make up, but everyone is too sad, too ashamed.
>You all did such terrible things. Said awful things. Ruined the Spaghetti and hurt your Family and Friends.
>"F-fwuffies." You whisper, and seven faces turn to look at you, full of self-loathing and pain. "Fwuffies ... mus' hug. Mus' fow'gif. Is Bad Tings we do, mus' make wite, mus' be fam'wy 'gain."
>Silence, as the Fluffies all look around, flinching as they meet each other's eyes.
>Finally, one of the older Fluffies speaks, slowly, haltingly, with great pain in his words.
>"N-nu. Nu wan fow'gif Bad Fwuffies. Nu wan fow'gif sewf." He whispers, hunched over and staring at his son, who is crying and reaching out a hoof towards his father. "Hewd is bad. Fwuffies is bad. Nu can fow'gif. Nu can gu back tu be Hewd. Is Bad Fwuffies ... "
>Everyone is silent, before nodding, even you.
>So many terrible, terrible things ....
>Nobody hugs, nobody says goodbye, nobody looks up as everyone tries to shuffle away with their heads down, whimpering as bruised muscle and torn skin pull and twist.
>You walk and walk, head full of horror and regret, until you are hugged!
>Your head flies up, and you're stunned! Maybe ... maybe the Old Fluffy was wrong, maybe you can be forgi...
>It's the Mares! The Mares that ran away for Spaghetti! They all look so fat, so happy!
>"Wook! See! Fwuffie heaw Brudda, see!" The Fluffy Hugging you says happily, and the Mares all cheer, hugging you. "Why Bwudda aww wet? Why Bwudda cwy, whewe Hewd?"
>They tell you that the other Herd had found spaghetti, and wanted to share it with the other Herds, but your Smarty Friend would have none of it. The Other Smarty Friend tried to explain that he had found a Hoomin Smelly-Nummies Bin full of Spaghetti, but your Smarty Friend had believed it was a trick and ran away.
>So when the Other Smarty Friend called out to your Herd to let them know... the Mares ran over to the Other Herd, eager to sample this fabled delicacy. They had thought you all would follow as well, so you could all go together and eat and play and be happy.
>All the Herds in this region had had wonderful Spaghetti together, playing and sharing and hugging. The Other Herds had wanted to play with you as well, but when you never showed up, they made sure that the Mares of your Herd were part of the Biggest Hugpile Ever and were kept safe until dawn came, and they could safely go back and look for you.
>"Wook! Sissy even haf Sketti fo' yuu!" Your Sister says, ignorant of the bitter tears mingling with the cold water in your cheek-fluff as she pulls out a cold, congealed strand of Spaghetti from her back-fluff and offers it to you.
>She looks so confused when you flinch at the very sight of it. It smells so delicious ... but it also makes you think of that fight, when everyone was so angry, so frustrated and heartsick and lonely that they turned on each other and were the Very-Worst Bad-Bad Meanie Fluffies to each other.
>You bite your lip and think. Maybe ... maybe if you say nothing, they'll never know. Maybe just be bad one more time ... and then you can be good again forever.
>But you think of your former Smarty Friend, who was so mean, who was bad and put his lust for the Red Fluffy and her Tame Munsta before the good of the Herd.
>You think of the rest of your Herd, so cold and alone and ashamed, feeling so broken and hollow inside, like you do.
>And you start to tell the Mares everything that happened, even as they start to cry, even as they call you a Bad Fluffy, even as your Sissy stops hugging you and backs away, glaring at you with cold, angry eyes.
>And then you ask them to help you find the rest of the Herd, so they can be a Family again. So that the Fluffy Mummas don't feel so sad their Foals were lost. So the other Stallions can know their Special Friends didn't leave them behind like the Smarty Friend said. So the Old Stallions can know their Daughters, their Fillies, are safe and sound and not prisoners of a Meanie Herd.
>Your Sissy and the other Mares stare at you hard for several heartbeats, and you sniffle and stare at the dirt, feeling the pressure of their disapproval and disgust worse than any physical blow you have endured.
>"Fwuffie know, Fwuffie siwwy. Fwuffie ugwy an' stuuupid an' dumb. Buh wan' Fam'wy be happehs 'gain. Fwuffie wiww gu 'way, faw 'way, su Fam'wy can haf happehs." You whisper, closing your eyes as the tears come again, hot and bitter and full of pain.
>Silence.
>And then your Sissy is hugging you. And another Mare, and another, and another.
>You're in the center of a Hug Pile of every Mare from your Herd.
>"Brudda ... yuu su siwwy." Sissy sighs gustily as she licks your face, grooming you so you can look pretty again. "Hewd is Fam'wy. An' Fam'wy fow'gif."
>Family forgives.
>You hug her back and cry, but it's with relief this time.
>You never thought two words could possibly make you feel so good inside.
>"Wast see Stawwions back dere!" You shout, eagerly leading the Mares to the last place you saw the other Stallions.
>It may take time, and many hugs, but your Family will forgive each other, and themselves. There's just too much out there that hates you and wants to hurt you to let your family wander cold, alone and unloved.
>Because family forgives.