Cinnamon

>Don't particularly like or hate fluffy ponies
>except for Cinnamon, your neighbor's brown pegasus with a white mane
>it shits on your lawn and tries to talk to things outside its window all fucking night
>You wish suffering upon this animal, and the gods oblige
>your neighbors are moving to a gated community where no fluffies are allowed
>you elect to take care of Cinnamon
>BEGINNING OF THE FIRST DAY
>You've set up a chicken wire pen for the little shit in your basement
>the floor around it is covered very well. You know damn well these things do not understand the concept of shitting in the corner so rather than make a toilet for it you just let it shit wherever it desires.
>It babbles to itself as you bring it to its new home
>"Fwuffy ungy! Sketty! Sketttyyyyyyyy!"
>You don't really feel like spending money on it, so you present it with a bowl filled with sawdust and used cooking oil
>"Not Pasketch! Wan skapetti!"
>You threaten to kick its ass if it doesn't eat, it seems to get the message
>It takes a bite of the slop, makes a face, then says, "Fwuffy eat, shee? Good fwuffy get p'sgetti now!"
>it is now repeating various mispronunciations of "spaghetti" in protest, ramming its little head against the chicken wire.
>that little fucker
>You grab some chili powder from your pantry and hurry back downstairs
>"Not sagetti! Wan' sagetti!"
>"Look at me, and open your mouth. You'll get it."
>She follows your instructions, already drooling from the thought of spaghetti.
>With a big puff, you send a handful of chili powder flying into its eyes, mouth, and snout

>You grab a chair and watch your least favorite fluffy pony writhe and shriek in agony, covering itself in drool, tears and snot, for the next half hour or so
>It's pretty gross, but you still think it's hilarious
>You continually tell it that this is what bad fluffies get, and it can never have good food from now on
>it seems to get the message, and willingly eats "ucky nummies" with limited protest
>for some reason it takes offense to your lame insults, it looks completely disheartened whenever you call it dumb or ugly
>but it's not enough
>it still laughs and plays its dumb little games with itself, fluttering its wings and bouncing high in the air

>Your buddy Dave does amputations down at the adoption center
>You call him in as a favor
>As he's explaining to you what you need to do (he's doing it for free, fuck you you can help), you ask him if he can leave out the shock therapy
>"You sure? It's not gonna be happy."
>You shrug.
>He calls you a sick fuck and punches you lightly on the shoulder

>The procedure is not nearly as gruesome as you imagined, unfortunately. The blood loss is kept to a minimum and its leg/wing stumps are dressed promptly.
>You don't really have the money for anesthetics, but Cinnamon passes out from the pain after the third leg anyway.
>You hand Dave a sixer and he's on his way somewhere else.

>Cinnamon comes to a few minutes later, but she doesn't seem to realize she's a ball of fluff with a head yet.
>"Owie game go 'way? No moah meanie hugs?"
>Sure, whatever.
>Your cruelty circuits kick in.
>"Hey, c'mere."
>It wiggles for a moment, then stops.
>"Wah?"
>It wiggles some more, this time more furiously.
>"Weggies no wowk? Sokey, fwuffy fwy to daddy!"
>Cinnamon's shoulders squirm, and its face contorts into a concentrated grimace
>"Wingies go? Why? Bwing wingies!"
>it doesn't really seem to comprehend the situation
>The sun yet rises, so you prod Cinnamon a little more with a trip to the fluffy park

>The park itself is pretty much nothing, there's no large plants or anything because the whole place is kept bone dry
>A small horde of dead fluffies are piled under the single water fountain in the park
>For the most part it's a drop n go type deal for people who don't feel like spending money on a babysitter for fluffy fucking ponies
>As such most fluffies go unattended
>There's a small area for amputee ponies set up with harnesses and such, but you've got bigger plans
>You drop Cinnamon in the middle of a group of fluffies
>"New fwien'! Yay!"
>Before they can greet her with hugs, you suggest to them that they play tag
>A blue fluffy bumps into a red one, saying "Yoow it!"
>A cacophany of giggles and "Ouchies!" follows
>Cinnamon tries to join in, but she can only manage to wiggle and flop
>A hot pink fluffy bumps into Cinnamon, shouting "Yoo it! It!"
>They all run away, and it can hardly catch up
>it can only watch as its new "friends" run away, only stopping a few yards later, forgetting about tag completely
>Suddenly, a billionaire supermodel runs up to you and tells you there's a bomb in her vagina that can only be turned off with a penis, and she'd reward you handsomely if you helped her
>You tell that bitch to fuck off, you've got shit to do

>Next, you bring Cinnamon up to a group of pegasii

>This time the magic happens all by itself
>"Go 'way! Wingie fwiens' onwy!"
>"Fwuffy haff wingies! Wook! Fwuffy fwy!"
>The fluff on its back starts to wiggle furiously, and it emits a few strained squeaks
>"Wha? Wingies, why no wowk?"
>The pegasii have ignored it, and are now enjoying gliding off of a large rock. "Wheeeeeeee! Hee hee, fwy high!"
>Cinnamon bursts into treats, sobbing "Fwuffy wan' fwy... Wan' fwy 'gen..."
>Its tears are delicious ambrosia to you, sustaining your soul

>You and Cinnamon visit the park every day
>Eventually you get bored of it, and you run out of spare shit to use as feed, so you toss it on your new neighbors' yard
>They have a pitbull
>Cinnamon survives as its chew toy for a full week
>You really like pitbulls now

Credit: Anon