Judgment (2/4)

>An hour later, you've returned with the few tools you've decided to use.
>You have donned the standard-issue white jumpsuit to protect yourself from massed fluffy magic attacks on exposed skin.
>The fluffy herd has only covered about half a mile in your absence.
>They're still following the river south.
>You retrieve the large canvas bag from the truck bed and walk up to them.
>As before, a few fluffies in the back see you, but this time they don't yell for help.
>”Wook!  Hooman back wif baggie!”
>The dams are slightly less nervous this time around, but their attendants still form a loose barrier between you and them.
>The blue unicorn Alpha walks up.  “Wha dat?  Wha in baggie?”
>You don't answer him, but you look inside to make sure you have everything you need.
>”Hey!  Wha in baggie?” he asks again, annoyed that you're ignoring him.
>You're going to give them one more shot.  All those shaking, pregnant fluffies are getting to you.
“Are you still going to look for food that isn't yours?”
>The Alpha nods, puffing his cheeks.  “We take foodies!  Gif to mummas and babehs!”
>The herd cheers.  The dams join in, but to a lesser extent.  The mention of babies makes them agitated and fearful.
“Can't you eat this grass?”
>”No!  Dis not good gwassies for babeh fwuffies!  Hooman kiww babeh when we take his gwassies, so fwuffies take wittle yummy wed fwuits and gif to babehs!”
>Looks like the dairy farmer traumatized them to the point of avoiding grass, so they've fallen back on their experiences with other foods.
>They must have had a relatively easy time with strawberry fields.
>Because of that, they have now run out of chances.
“I can't let you do that.”
>The Alpha is furious.  Sparks shoot from his horn.  “Fwuffies huwt hooman, den!  We take food fo' fwuffies!”
>The unicorns are all trying to use their magic on you now.  Sparks fly everywhere, but they're too weak to have any effect.
>The earth fluffies stay in reserve while the pegasus fluffies, being the least durable, form a rear guard to protect the completely vulnerable dams.
>Male and female pegasus alike form a thick cordon around the babbling, expectant mothers.
>You reach into the canvas bag.  There is a loose protocol you follow when an organized herd must be terminated.
>First, you decapitate their leadership.
>You pull a heavy open-ended wrench from the bag.  Some of the earth fluffies are awed by its shininess.
>The Alpha is trying his damnedest to set you on fire, but the jumpsuit prevents it.  “I huwt you!  Big owwies!  You no stop fwuffies fwom gettin' foodies!”
>He's too busy attacking and berating you to see you reach down.
>You knock him easily onto his back and pin him down with a gloved hand on his stomach.
>”Hewp!  Hewp!  Smawty fwiend in twouble!  Hewp!”
>The unicorns cease their magic attack and rush at your arm.
>Their kicks and bites are useless against the heavy jumpsuit material.
>You raise the wrench and strike down, slamming the metal into the Alpha's head.
>”OWWIES!  HEWP FWUFFY!  MUNSTA HUWT FWUFFY!” he screams.
>You strike down again.  Blood flies from the growing wound; more splatters as the Alpha thrashes about in agony.
>”Munsta huwt smawty fwiend!  We gif munsta owwies!” the unicorns scream.
>Sparks, hooves, and teeth fly at you.  All fail to do damage.
>You bring the wrench down a third time, by coincidence striking the Alpha's durable horn.
>The magical feedback causes him to scream.  He shits himself as the pain becomes too great for him to bear.
>”Munsta make smawty fwiend make boo-boo juice!  We make munsta make boo-boo juice too!” the unicorns threaten.
>”HEWP FWUFFY!  HEWP FWU-”
>His pleas are cut off as your fourth strike finally penetrates his skull and obliterates much of his brain.
>The Alpha is a bleeding, shattered mess.
>The only sounds he can now manage are gurgles, which he expels along with a bloody mist from his mouth.
>The other unicorns stop attacking to focus on their leader.  “Fwuffies gif huggies!  Huggies make smawty fwiend feew betta!”
>He cannot reply.  His body twitches violently every few seconds as the other unicorns hug him.  Gurgling noises convey his pain, but his ability for words has long passed.
>His ruined form becomes still at last.  “Wha...w-why smawty fwiend no gif back huggies?” a unicorn asks.
>A wail of grief swells up from the unicorn contingent.  They cry bitterly and charge you again.
>You sigh when they fail to run around uselessly in circles, as usually happens when a leader falls.
>You put the bloody wrench down.
>Some of the unicorns try to lift it with their magic to fight you, but it's too heavy.
>You are somewhat surprised the herd is still cohesive after you've made an example of their Alpha.
>All hell has broken loose around you.
>Even the dams' unicorn attendants have charged into the fray.
>The earth fluffies wait, now forming an outer perimeter around the dams.  A bright orange earth fluffy barks directions.
>This herd has more than one Alpha.
>He can wait, though.  You've got to crush the unicorns before they think to escape and spread their knowledge.
>You make a quick head count; there are about thirty unicorns.  No problem.
>One at a time, you pick them up.
>”Put fwuffy down!  Hewp!  Hewp!  Munsta haf fwuffy!”
>You snap its neck and toss it aside.
>You grab another, who squeals and shrieks.
>Snap.
>Soon there are only three unicorns left, and their tone has changed entirely.
>”No!  No huwt fwuffy!  Stop huwtin' fwuffy's fwiends!  Pwease!  We no take gwassies!  We be good fwuffies!” one of them screams.  You pick her up.
>Snap.
>The remaining two are overcome with abject terror.
>They shit and piss everywhere as they run in panicked circles.
>”Pwease!  We good fwuffies!  No huwt good fwuffies!  We no bad!  We go 'way!  Fwuffies fin' otha gwass-”
>Snap.
>You toss that yellow one down and pick up the final unicorn, a purple female that was one of the dams' attendants.
>”No!  No huwt sissy!  No!  Sissy be good fwuffy now!  Sissy be good!” one of the unicorn dams screeches.
>Snap.
>The fluffy unicorn army lays in a lifeless pile at your feet.
>You take the bag and step over the pastel-colored clump to approach the herd's second line of defense, the earth fluffies.
>”You no go any fawtha!” the earth Alpha growls.  “Hooman kiww ow magic fwiends, but hooman no kiww ow mummas and babehs!”
>All you can do is sigh.  You've never seen a herd with such deep organization.
>Since earth fluffies are the most stout, neck-breaking won't be as effective.
>You open the bag and look down into it.
>Yeah.  These should be enough firecrackers to do the job.