Smidget & Bit IX

>you are now Bit
>ever since the... incident, Smidget has been rather listless
>she has also been growing fat
>still, the OTHER neighbors have brought a whole retarded CLAN of your blighted kin to their home
>this sets your blood to boiling
>you watch from the window as they run aimlessly, play "Hide in plain sight and seek"
>deep down, you want to gore them all, but you'd have about the same luck stabbing them with a banana
>the trick is killing them without hurting their owners, because they're really nice people
>you head to brainstorm with Smidget who is now so bloated she can't move under her own power
>your owner has been acting strangely
>"Smidget! Wan' heeya ideas on kiwwing da neighbows fwuffy ponies."
>Smidget groans, "Smidget's tummy ache... gotta poopies..."
>you frown in a way that would be impossible for lesser ponies and totter off to find you master
>he's watching tv
>"Smidget's gonna poop aww ova da fwoor! Go stop."
>he sighs and grabs a mop while you trot to begin your murderous plot
>your slip out the extra wide doggy door and check your fence on that side
>one of the gibbering idiots has already wandered through a hole in the fence
>it's a brown earth pony with darker splotches you hope are just patterns in the fluff
>"Hi! New fwiend?" it says as it practically stumbles towards you
>choking back your bile, you try to sound chipper "Fwiend! Wan' pway game?"
>it nods hard enough to throw its balance off and your grin grows wolfish
>"Gawage has pwenty of fun toys..."
>you love the smell of grass and gasoline that mingles here
>your companion doesn't, "No smell pwetty..."
>it still follows you
>you look over the tools, and the possibilities are... fantastic
>pitchfork, axe, shovel... you remember how fun it was watching that pegasus burn though...
>you notice a can of kerosene
>"Ah! Best toy! Wan' pwetty toy?"
>the other fluffy grins widely and your weak telekinesis rolls the can from the bottom shelf to you
>the top pops off
>"Put your hoofsies in!"
>certain its new fwiend won't hurt him, the acrid smelling fuel does cause a little cough
>"Now wun to yo uvvah fwiends!"
>as he turns you focus on his little hooves, and shoot a stream of sparks from your horn with considerable effort
>he starts running and ignites
>it isn't long before screaming starts and you watch from the street
>the reaction is... glorious
>as their brother runs around in flames, the fools try to hug him since "huggies make ouchies go'way"
>they ignite, but just run around aimlessly
>you sigh with relief when one of them collapses just short of the back door, but now the neighbors are running around with a hose trying to put them out
>triumphantly you climb through the doggy door
>your little victory strut continues as long as your poor dexterity allows
>you trip over one of Smidget's stuffed bears
>still, you just slew at least seven fluffy ponies with just a few sparks
>Smidget is going to love hearing about this
>as you round the corner you hear her talking
>"Mah babehs... wuv my new babehs..."
>blood turns to ice-water
>there lies Smidget with your master
>with three foals
>fluffy, light blue foals
>one has a horn
>a few more bodies for the pile

>be Smidget
>the blind, helpless little babies cling to your fluff
>your owner had the foresight to by fluffy pony milk in powdered form
>...not like they could burrow through your fluff anyway
>Bit is staring in the vicious way, but you're too tired to do more than hold your young
>"Bit wan' know what's going on heyah!"
>you don't bother
>so sleepy
>be the hapless owner
>you've seen that look in Bit's eye
>since Smidget started to swell you've been prepared though
C'mere Bit
>he doesn't struggle against you looks daggers at his sons and daughter
>you've cordoned off a portion of your house for him
>a play-pen around a tv, his bowls, and his makeshift pony bed
>"I pwomise not to huht dem..."
I don't want to risk that, but I want you to think about something...
>you set him down, and he goes to sit on his bed, trying to lie to you with his puppy-dog eyes
First, if you love me, you'll tell me the truth, right?
>Bit rubs his forelegs together
>"I was gonna kiww dem..."
Thank you. You should know something though... there's a good chance they'll be more like you and Smidget than the one's you burned today.
>his eyes go wide like he never considered this possibility
>you close the door and go to take care of your new foals