Babbeh part 6

Babbeh part 6

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Warning:  This story contains fluffies suffering and death.  Viewer discretion is advised.

Since it's been a while, you can find all the other chapters in my Pastebin, Tumblr and Deviantart accounts.



"Good morning ladies!"

"Nummies!  Haf nummies nao?"

"Newl need make miwkies fo' gud babbehs, pwease gif wots nummies."

You're a baby fluffy pony, just over four days old, not that you'd know anything about that.
And you feel terrible.
Awoken by a loud thud, you instinctively ducked down and covered your head so whatever monster made
that noise doesn't find you.
Mommy must have been scared too, she's gripping you hard against her body.
It makes your leg sore, a really scary hooman gave it hurties for no reason last bright time.
To top it all off, your tummy hurts sooooo much!
You need milk, that's what makes the tummy hurties better but mommy isn't letting go despite
your asking nicely.

"Hooban mummeh huwt nu, mummeh huwt miwick."

Now you feel even worse, your words didn't work again.
Dummy words, they never come out like you tell them to!
That makes you upset, which makes your belly hurts even more hurty.

The world goes light with a clicking noise, but you can barely tell with mommy's hoof over you.
It's normally your favorite place to be, but sometime last night you un-drank your milk again
and it feels icky all over.
Looks like your brother and sister are in the same situation, they're covered in yikky un-drank
milk and crying a bit.
More than anything you just want some milk, that'll make everything ok.

"How's everyone this morning?  Hungry I bet, but it's weighing day so let's take care of that
first."

"Wan' nummies!  Fwuffy sooooo hungies!"

"Nu wan' foodies, fwuffy tummy huwties."

"Hewwo nice hooman!  Come pway wif Giwwy an' babbehs?"

"Zzzzzz *snore* Zzzzzz"

*whisper* "Babbehs be gud, munsta nu fin' babbehs in mummeh's fwuff."
That was mommy.

"Pwease nummies fiwst?  Babbehs need miwkies, mummeh need nummies fo' miwkies!"

"Lemme get my earplugs in first and we'll begin."

All the conversation going on around you is little more than confusing background noise.
You want to work your way down to mommy's teats and drink until the hurting stops.
But the hooman's voice triggers something.
You remember.

Eyes.

Cold, horrible eyes drilling right through you.
Being high in the air with nothing around but a strange hooman hoof and her terrible eyes.
The worst pain, the worst horror you've ever experienced...
This hoomans's voice is different but that doesn't matter, you try digging down even deeper
into mommy's fluff to hide.
The hurties in your leg make you cry out like sissy does sometimes, but fear is motivation enough to keep on worming down through the yikky, un-drank milk covered fluff.

"Calm down, calm down.  Every fluffy will get fed soon enough.  For now just be good and let me
weigh your babies, maybe you'll get a little extra kibble today if every fluffy is nice."

"Am gud fwuffy!"

"Zzzzzzz"

"Nu take babbehs, dey get cowd.  Babbehs stay wif mummeh pwease!"

"Foodies!  Pwease gif nummies, fwuffy soooo hungies!"

"It's always about your stomach, isn't it Marble?  Let me see your babies for a second and
you'll get fed right after we're done."

"Mawble babbehs too smaw!  Need wotsa foodies fo' miwkies, pwease gif moar nummies nice hooman?"

"Pway wif Giwwy!  Pway wif Giwwy babbehs!  Pwease pway?  Giwwy wuv gud hooman!"

"... Right.  Changed your tune again Gilly?  I'll get to you soon so just be patient."

"Gonna pway wif babbehs, pway wif hooman, Giwwy wan' pway aw day!"

Mommy rolled onto her side, putting herself between you and the hooman monster, which is a bit of a
relief.
Now if only you could turn around and reach her teats.
Wriggling and squirming isn't getting you anywhere against mommy's strong grip, but suddenly
sister cries out again, really loud this time.
You had been pushing against her and must've kicked her hurt wingie.

Mommy sets you and brother on the ground but still against her fluff.
She's attending to sissy's tears and cries of agony.
It's a bittersweet feeling, you really didn't want to hurt sister like that.
But on the other hoof now you can walk down to mommy's milk place and finally make these terrible
tummy owwies go away.

"Lesse... your colt is 8.03 ounces.  Huh, he does look small for his age."

"Mawble need moar nummies, nu haf 'nuff miwk fo' babbehs.  Dey haf wowstest tummeh owwies,
pwease gif moar foodies fo' miwk?"

"Let me check the rest first, then we'll decide what happens.  The orange filly next, okay?"

You waddle and stumble your way on the long, soft thing at the bottom of your home towards the
all important teats.
Your tummy hurts so bad you'd un-drink milk right there if you had any to bring up.
Brother shambles along with you, he must want to suckle as well, but with mommy laying on her
side you can only reach one teat!
That's not fair mommy, please lay so you both can have milk, you need it so badly!

"Nuuuu, nu wan' munsta, wan' mummeh!  Wan' mummeh!  Mummeh hewp babbeh, pwease hewp babbeh!
Munsta gif babbeh big huwties, why nu hewp?  Why mummeh nu hewp babbeh?  Am gud babbeh, wuv
mummeh!"

"For God's sake kid, I'm just checking your weight not peeling your fluff off."

"NUUUUUUUU!  Munsta wan' babbeh fwuff!  Babbeh wuv babbeh fwuff!  Why nu hewp, mummeh?
Wuv mummeh, babbeh wuv mummeh!"

"Babies like you are why I wear earplugs while doing this, little guilt trip spouting...  There... 8.58 ounces.  She should be about twice that by now.  What the hell is Jay putting in this crappy kibble?"

Almost there.
You're almost there!
This horrible, painful gurgling in your tummy will all go away if only you can get some milk!
It's a race between you and your brother, and just thinking about that makes you sad.
Why can't mommy shield you from the hooman monster and give milk to you both at the same time?
Mommies can do anything, that should be easy!

Then you see those eyes in your mind again, and remember the feel of being pulled from mommy's
hooves.
The impression of strength as the hooman hoof yanked you away.
It was so scary, mommy did her best but she took you from her with just one hoof!
Does that mean mommies can't do everything?
What if mommy can't protect you if she comes back?
You feel your tummy do another flip and you flop down in place, fear and pain forcing your tiny
self to the ground.

"That's it Marble, here's the last baby."

"Wuv babbehs, wuv babbehs so much!  Pwease gif moar nummies fo' miwkies?  Pwease, fo' babbehs?"

"They're way under weight... I'll give you a little bit more but-"

"YAY!  Mawbel wuv hooman!  Nu moar tummy owwies fo' mummeh an' babbehs!"

"Yeah.  This'll take care of everything, just remember to chew before gobbling it down."

"Mawbel am gud fwuffy, wuv nice hooman, wuv nummies an' babbehs!"

"Nummies before babbies huh?  Well, can't say I'm surprised.  There you go."

Ouchies from the leg the scary hooman twisted jolt through you, bringing tears to your eyes.
You're scared, you're hurting, and worst of all brother is going to beat you to mommy's teat
now.
You take a glimpse back to see how close he is, and get a big surprise.
He looks even worse than you feel; brother is curled up into a ball and making scary sounds, his mouth
gaping and hacking before he un-drinks again.
But it's not the nasty yellow you've seen (and created several times) before, this un-milk is
green kinda like his fluff, and a little red like mommy.
He gasps and writhes, holding his tummy with both hooves and crying.

The sounds he makes are upsetting, reminding you of whatever happened during the last dark time.
Cries for help, horrific crunching, squeals, gagging, growling...
Gurgling from inside brings you back to reality.
Brother looks over at you blearily and manages to squeak out one word.

"Miwk."

His tummy owwies must be sooooo bad!
But yours are really, really bad too!
It's so unfair, why would mommy do this and not put you right on her teat like she's supposed to?
That the hooman is still here is barely an afterthought, every part of you screams for milk to
make the hurties go away.
You force yourself to your hooves and take a few wobbly steps, then a few more.
It's agonizingly slow going, but through your tears you see the teat just before you, a drop of
milk hanging lazily off the tip.
A final bit of encouragement to urge you on.
Walking up mommy's side with your front hooves you finally, finally latch on and begin suckling.

This is the best milk you've ever tasted.

"Maple?  Come on girl, wakey wakey.  Breakfast time."

Almost right away your stomach eases it's grumbling and churning, heavenly compared to just a
moment ago.
Your unhurt front hoof kneads the area around mommy's teat while you stand on the rear ones; a
bit wobbly but with the death grip you have on that teat falling off isn't a concern.
Everything comes back into focus now, your eyes have dried and the sounds of other fluffies
playing and talking returns, even if most of their words make no sense.

"Mummeh, pway wif babbeh pwease.  Pwease wakies mummeh."

"Mummeh haf miwk fo' babbeh?  Wan' haf nummies, mummeh pwease gif?"

Other babies close by are talking to their mother while you suckle for all you're worth.
With the pain and yucky feelings subsiding, you can hear and pay attention to what they say.
The other babies words are much clearer than yours, you recognize a few and think that they were
in the right order to mean something.
Why can't your words do the same?
You often tell mommy how much you love her, or that your tummy feels bad, but they never come out the right way.
Are your words being meanies on purpose?

"Mapewl wan' sweepies, nu nummies time nao.  Babbehs be qwiet fo' mummeh... zzzzz."

"Nuuuuu, wan' miwkies, pwease miwkies mummeh?"

"Why nu miwkies, why mummeh nu pway wif babbehs?"

" *sniff* Why mummeh nu wuv babbehs?  Am gud babbeh, pwease wuv mummeh!"

" *Snore* "

"Very classy, Maple.  I'll just leave this here then, maybe you'll feel like waking up if the babies cry loud enough."

" *Snore* "

Babies in other fluffy houses continue to chatter on in ways that sound much better than yours.
It makes you a little jealous;  you're a good baby too, why don't your words sound like theirs?
Maybe they've just got nicer words than yours.
Yours keep on being mean to you and not doing what you tell them.

Your thoughts about words and unfairness are derailed however when something nudges your side.
Brother managed to get back on his hooves and reach mommy's teat too.
He looks up at you pleadingly, face half covered in yikky, smelly stuff.
Without a second thought, your hooves spread out a little more and you press harder into mommy.
You know whats coming, and while you'll be glad to give him a turn once your tummy is full,
you've still got a long way to go until then.
He'll just have to be patient.

Of course he isn't.

The next nudge is much harder, his face pushing into your belly fluff, wanting the teat for himself.
You knew he'd be a meanie in the end, just like sissy always is.
Meanie babies don't get any milk before good babies are done, that's what mommy says.
Well, you think that's what she says.
It sounds like her.
So that's how things are gonna be!
Brother can be a mean, bad baby all he wants, you aren't letting go until the tummy owwies are
completely gone.

"Pway wif babbeh?  Hooman pway?"

"I never know how you guys are gonna react to me, it's nice seeing a good baby for once."

"Babbeh am gud babbeh!"

"You sure are.  We're just gonna see how much you weigh, little girl, then it's back to momma."

"Babbeh wan' pway wif nice hooman, mummeh sweepies, nevah pway.  Why nu pway?"

"Things to do, fluffies to breed, quotas to keep.  You understand right?  13.81 ounces, better
but not ideal."

"Babbeh nu un'stan."

"Don't worry about it, play with your siblings.  And speaking of which, who wants weighed
next?"

"Babbeh wan' pway!"

"Nummies fwom hooman?"

"Giwwy wan' pway pwease!"

"Wait your turn, Gilly."

Brother tries pushing between you and mommy, but it's not a very strong push and you manage to
stay in place.
He whines and whimpers, but he'll just have to wait until your belly is full.
If he wasn't being such a bad baby, maybe you'd have taken turns.
Unsurprisingly, brother pushes again.
But it isn't very hard, in fact you barely feel the bump from his head before it stops.
Seemingly exhausted from the effort, brother sinks to the ground and cries.
It makes you sad too, but there's only one teat reachable right now, and you got here first
It's only fair.

"Nel, it's your turn.  I'll weigh your babies and give you breakfast."

"Nuuuuu, nu take babbehs, munsta nu gif huwties, dey gud babbehs!"

"We've been over this how many times now?  It's only... why am I arguing with a fluffy?"

"Munsta come, scawy munsta gif bad owwies, scawe Newl an' babbehs.  Munsta nu gif huwties!"

"Probably just a bad dream. Now come on, I've got a schedule to keep."

"Mummeh!  Munsta haf babbeh!  Wuv mummeh, pwease hewp babbeh!  Wuv mummeh, wuv mummeh!  Why nu
hewp?"

"And we got off to such a good start too.  15.55 ounces, not bad."

Mommy's still fussing with sissy and her constant crying, she must be giving too hard huggies
again and making sissy's wingie hurt.
Your brother has given up on forcing his way to the teat, instead he lays on the long, soft thing
and taps his front hooves against your leg.
It's much like how you'd tap hooves together when mommy had you both feeding side by side.
Probably as a reminder that he's still here and desperate for his turn.
You're feeling a little bad for him.
Not bad enough to give up your feeding time, but bad.

"All done Nel, and not a baby was harmed.  Who would've imagined?"

"Wuv babbehs, mummeh gif huggies!"

"Babbeh scawed!  Why mummeh nu hewp babbeh?"

"Mummeh twy!  Babbeh nu haf huwties?"

"No she doesn't have any hurties.  If... I'm doing it again.  *ahem*  Stella, time for your-"

"NUUUUUU!  Nu take babbehs!  Nice hooman say Stewwa keep!  Stewwa wuv gud, pwetty babbehs!"

The hooman looms over your home, thankfully it's not the super scary one from before.
That's a relief.
No looking into those eyes this time.

You keep peeking up at him while feeding, he's just so... un-fluffy like.
It's unfair that hoomans aren't allowed to be fluffies.
If they were, they'd be so much nicer and get to be covered in wonderful fluff.
They'd give lots of hugs, and play, and love, and never be meanies.
They'd have mommies to take care of them, and delicious milk, and spend the day napping and playing.
Poor hoomans.
They'll never get to be as good as fluffies.

You have to look up high as you can just to see the hooman's funny face.
Maybe it's not fair that they'll never be fluffies, but they sure are big.
Even bigger than mommy.
And mommy picks you up all the time, she has so much fluff you could almost get lost in it.
Hoomans may be super big, but you still know deep down that it's better to be a fluffy.

Your tummy feels so much better now.
Far from perfect mind you, but it's not bringing tears to your eyes anymore.

"I'm not arguing today, Stella.  Let's start with this hungry little fella."

What's the hooman doing?
Oh no!
That hooman is reaching down towards you!
You aren't done drinking yet!
And you can't call for help and drink at the same time!
Right?

"Me- *cough* *hack* *cough* "

It didn't work.
You flatten against mommy and spread your hooves again, wanting frantically to hold on.
But try as you may, it's incredible strength pops your lips right off mommy's teat and lifts
you away.

"Miwk nu!  Nu nu sewwy!"

The gibberish plea ignored, you're removed from your fluffy home in no time.
You're belly is starting to feel bad all over again while panic overtakes your diminutive mind, all while calling for a mother who can't reach you.
You cry out and push against his grip to no avail.

"Weren't you the friendly one before?  I wonder what changed?  Ah well, they've always been fickle...  6 ounces.  Is that it?  You've barely grown in four days!  And what was that you said?"

It's looking right at you, his eyes aren't cold and cruel like the other hoomans but they still
frighten you.

"Babbeh hooban, mummeh miwk bahbuh baw!"

It hurts, your tummy is already roiling and you weren't even full yet.

"That's... not so good.  Let's see another one."

You almost un-drink as the hooman quickly sets you back down into mommy's fluff.
She defensively wraps a leg around you and says all kinds of things you don't understand, but that doesn't seem to stop him.
He pries your sister from mommy as she squeaks and thrashes, even making the bad smelly on his hoof.

"Eeeeeeee! Pway!  Nu pway mummeh!  Babbeh!"

"Yeah thanks for that kiddo.  Really makes my morning.  5.95 ounces, way off the mark again."

"Pway babbeh!  Eeeeeee! wan' miwk babbeh!"

"Doesn't sound any better either.  Just one more to go, calm down."

"Giwwy wan pway!  Pway pway pway!"

Mommy's leg presses hard againt your back, it hurts!
You try telling her but she isn't listening, instead she reaches up and snatches your sister
from the hooman and pulls her close.

"Gilly will you just... why are your hooves red?"

"Giwwy pway nao?  Giwwy wuv pway wif nice hooman!  Pway wif hooman an' babbehs!"

Oh, it hurts, it hurts so much!
Mommy keeps squeezing you hard and your tummy feels like it's gonna pop!

"Wh-... Jesus Christ.  Are... Is that what's left of your babies?"

"Giwwy pway wif babbehs when dawkies, pway tagsies an' hidies' an' dance!"

"Gilly, you've killed them, all of them.  You really did this last night?"

"Pway aaawwwwwwwww fun games fo' fwuffies!  Hooman wan' pway wif Giwwy an' babbehs nao?  Pway
hidies?"

"Do you not get it?  Your babies are dead Gilly.  They're smeared all over your damn cage!"

"Nu... nu pway?  Why nu pway?  Giwwy is gud mummeh, gif babbehs wuv an' miwk an' huggies.
Hooman say Giwwy keep babbehs, so Giwwy be bestest mummeh evah!"

"Fuck... I don't even know what to say to this, you bi-polar little headcase.  I guess your
trial run is up, that's for damn well sure.  And I'm getting those caracasses out of there
before they start to rot."

"Buh Giwwy wan' pway!  Pway wif Giwwy and gud babbehs, pwease?"

"They're dead you moron, dead.  I'm taking them out."

"NU!  Nu take babbehs, munsta!  Giwwy gif wowstest owwies to dummy hooman!  Go 'way!"

"You've cracked haven't you?  Either that, or there's LSD in your fucking chow batch."

"Giwwy hate hooman munstas!  *Grrrrr*  Gif owwies, gif sowwy poopies, make meanie hooman dai!"

"We'll see about that."

"Gif wowstest owwies!  Hate smewwy hooman!  Giwwy bite yu nosey!  Gif spawks an' buwnies! Hate yu!"

The noises beside your home are scary, mommy hugs even tighter and you can't stand it.
Tears flow freely as you feel that horrible owwie in your tummy spill out.
With loud, painful wretches you un-drink everything you'd managed to down this morning despite
feeling soooooo bad!
Red mixes with yellow as milk gushes from your mouth and nose, all over mommy's pretty fluff.
And it burns, oh how it burns as it comes back out!
You want to scream but its still coming up, this is the worst owwie you've ever had!

Sister squeals as it gets all over her fluff too, and just as your tummy finally finishes with
one final cough, she brings up some green and red of her own, crying with every gasp.
Mommy's too busy being scared of the noises and screaming fluffy voice close by to so much as notice.
And all the while, brother suckles hard and fast as he can at the one teat he can reach, glad
his tummy owwies are starting to feel a little better.


* Closing time at the fluffy mill *

"What a fucking waste."

"I know, and I feel responsible as well.  I picked Gilly because of her good temperament, although
you'd never know it talking to her right now.  She was one of the nicest we've ever had
downstairs, but ever since the new diet started her moods have been up and down like a yo-yo."

"I'll make sure Jay compensates me FULLY for one good breeder and the babies she killed."

"Stomped the little things into paste."

"Put her down yet?"

"No, although I felt like it by the time her cage was back downstairs.  She was sparking at me
non stop.  Don't worry, she's in another closet and not with the general population, no need to freak
'em out."

"That asshole's gonna pay out the nose for her, and one of the babies had a rainbow mane right?  There
goes at least hundred bucks.  Un-fucking-believeable."

"Actually, I've got a bit more bad news.  Maybe a lot more."

"... This gonna be a five drink, or ten drink night?"

"Let's start with five and work our way up.  Marble and Coral's babies are undersized, some by
more than fifty percent.  Mentally they seem ok, for a baby fluffy I mean, but they look more
like newborns than babies four days old.  Marble constantly complains about being hungry and
not having enough milk, I told her today she was getting extra although I didn't actually add
more."

"They'll buy anything won't they?"

"Yep.  Coral is the exact opposite, always saying she feels full and doesn't want to eat.
She's also going on about her poops hurting her and being too hard."

"Well this is all going straight to hell in a hand basket isn't it?  I'm such a dumbass for
going along with Jay and his "revolutionary" new feed mixes.  Well?  I can tell you've got more
so just spit it out."

"Yes ma'am.  Maple spends most of the day asleep, and when she's up it's like watching a fluffy
in slow motion.  Her babies are also undersized but mostly because she keeps sleeping on her
belly and not letting them feed.  The babies sleep more than normal too, they're a bit thin but
not nearly as bad as Maple's."

"Okay, just so I haven't missed anything so far:  We've got one psycho, one starving, one who's
probably eating sawdust and a narcoleptic.  You know... there may be a use for that last formula.  Maybe some people'd like their fluffies to calm the fuck down.  So?  What else?  None burst into flames yet?"

"There's Nel, out of the lot I'd say her bunch are doing the best, but when I weighed her
babies they felt kinda weird.  Their fluff was oddly stiff, but otherwise they check out."

"Stiff fluff?  We're breeding Brillo pads now?  No one'll want a fluffy that doesn't feel nice.
ANOTHER writeoff, why the hell not?  One more to go so let me guess... four assholes each and
can't stop shitting right?"

"Heh, well, not quite but they've got some serious problems of their own."

"The hell you say!  I never woulda guessed.  Do go on, you're a real ray of sunshine."

"Sorry boss lady.  Stella herself is still as paranoid as ever, she and some of the other
fluffies were talking about a monster yesterday, but I think they mean Gilly and hearing what
she did to her babies.  Speaking of which, Stella's are barely an ounce heavier than when I
first weighed them."

"Uh huh.  Keep going, wheat else is wrong with 'em?"

"All three are having problems with their speech, I doubt they've picked up any new words and
none can string a proper sentence together.  If anything they sound worse now than they did
as newborns."

"How bad exactly?  Some people like foals to be a bit more baby like."

"They make no sense, I'm not sure if they're trying to say anything specific or just babble
random things at random times.  There's something else I need to mention too.  Stella's been
trying to hide it, but they've all thrown up repeatedly, even on an empty stomach.  I think at least
one puked up some bile and there may have been blood in it."

" *Moan* Any chance this is a disease and not their feed?"

"Could be, but if it is I haven't heard of it, it's almost like the babies have Derp Syndrome."

"If we have another case of the Serp I'm gonna pull my fucking hair out.  And God knows there's
been enough Enf transmitted diseases with those last couple stallions."

"It's always a risk bringing in new blood.  And I've no doubt you got a refund."

"Damn straight I did, and then some.  So it's their shitty feed that's likely the cause.  Some
of Stella's babies had good coloration too, he's paying extra for those.  I want pictures of
all these babies... wait.  Even better, get me video of every test subject and the babies too.
I won't have Jay weaseling his way out of paying top dollar."

"We could save a majority of the babies by just switching them over to normal feed, assuming
the damage hasn't already been done.  But..."

"But I signed a contract to see the testing through until weaning.  Too bad every single
formula he gave us is a fucking dud.  Except that one Maple is on, if her babies survive I
could see people paying for a feed that'll settle their fluffies."

"Well, getting back on track I seriously doubt those babies have the Derp, but I don't see
Stella's brood lasting much longer unless we do something."

"I'd rather have the babies to sell, but a deals a deal.  You just be sure to document and
record everything, I want video evidence of what Gilly did as well.  Use your cell camera for
now, tomorrow I'll bring my camcorder and we'll do this right.  All he asked for was a written report, but we're going above and beyond this time.  I intend to collect on every penny this bullshit's cost me."

"What about Gilly?"

"After recording I'll give the bitch to Tiffany.  Fitting punishment, right?"

"Won't Jay want the bodies to study or dissect, something like that?"

"You're talking about the guy that phoned ME because he had a flat tire and no idea what to do.
Besides, that's not in the contract and Tiff's been complaining about being bored lately.
It'll brighten her day."

"Uh huh.  I'm gonna go grab my phone then and get some shots of Gilly's smear marks.  And the final word on changing their food back to normal?"

"You're a real softy sometimes.  I'll talk to him, but for now we stick to the contract until
something changes."

"Yes ma'am."


End part 6

Author's note:
After pastebin swallowed more than ten days worth of very productive writing I was pretty damn pissed off.  And despite the content of what I'd written, I still contacted them repeatedly trying to recover what'd been lost.  Their reply was a nicely worded, polite middle finger.  When I pestered them some more, they were kind enough to give me another.  So consider that a lesson folks:  Don't rely on the cloud.  Keep multiple backups in multiple locations.  I thought pastebin would be air tight but they proved me wrong;  now I've got copies of everything written on two different hard drives as well as online.  It's a bit of a pain but better than losing your work and motivation at the same time.

http://pastebin.com/u/Mayclore - Thanks for letting me use your characters.  If you like stories about fluffies even a little bit go here.  You won't be disappointed.