Replacement - Part 3

>Be an average joe
>About to go for the moment of truth
>Carrying your new fluffy pony, Plumsweet, into the house to meet your depressed, alcoholic dad
>She understands how sad your dad, whom she calls "Dadad", is and wants to help
>Here's hoping your dad WANTS help...

>Open the door, dad's not in view
"Dad...? We're home!"
>No answer
>Plumsweet looks around in your arms curiously
>"Daddy, wan' go down pweese!"
"Huh? Oh, right. Sure Plumsweet. But stay with me for now, ok?"
>You set her down on the plush carpet, next to you
>"K daddy, Pwumsweet stay wif daddy."
>You decide to look in the back lounge room, your dad's usual haunt after he's been drinking
>Surprise surprise, he's passed out and smells like vodka and piss
>And sure enough, he's still loosely clutching half a bottle of Absolut in one hand that rests on the floor
>Plumsweet wrinkles her nose
>"Ewwww, dat Dadad? He no smeww pwetty..."
"Yup, that's Dadad... And you're right. He's been up all night drinking vodka."
>"Wat vo-kah, daddy?
>Oh right, fluffies don't know booze.
"It's... Bad water. It'll make you feel good when you drink it, but you feel like shi-Um, poopies afterward."
>This makes Plumsweet screw her face up in confusion in that cute little way you're becoming accustomed to
>"If make feew bad, den why Dadad dwink bad wawa?"
>God, you had to pick a curious one...
"It makes him forget he's sad for a while. But it hurts him more than help him."
>This seems to give Plumsweet an idea, as she suddenly smiles and walks over to the bottle in your dad's hand
>"Daddy, dis da bad wa-wa dat Dadad dwink?"
"Yeah, that's it... Wait, why?"
>Plumsweet goes behind the bottle, and starts nudging it with her nose, rolling it out of your dad's hand, away from him
>Oh God, don't tell me she wants some
>The pastel puffball rolls it towards you
>Prepare to tell the fluffy "No"...
>"Daddy, whewe wittabox?"
"No Plu-... Wait, what? Litterbox? I thought you made poopies at the... Animal place?"
>"No fow poopies. Whewe wittabox, pweese?"
"Um, I'll just set it up."
>While still very confused, you humour Plumsweet and set up the litter box you picked up at the RSPCA along with some other fluffy accessories
>Once you're done you show Plumsweet where it is
>"Fank yoo, daddy."
>Plumsweet rolls the bottle of Absolut towards the litterbox then looks up at you
>"Daddy, pweese put bad wa-wa in wittabox? Put wewe poopies go, so Dadad no dwink no mow."
>You're surprised the little lady had enough thought power to think this up
>You and your mother have taken your dad's booze before, he's usually too drunk to remember not finishing it
>But now this fluffy, who has been in the house not 10 minutes has taken the initiative
>That's... That's just great.

"Ok Plumsweet, we'll put the bad water in the litter box."
>She smiles and wags her tail
>Huh. Didn't know they could do that
>"Dadad no dwink poopy wa-wa anymow. Dadad twy, Pwumsweet put in wittabox!"
>Ok, while that's good initiative, you don't know how your dad would react when sober to a tiny horse stealing his piss
"Plumsweet, that's a very good idea. But you can only do that when Dadad is asleep, like right now, ok? Otherwise he might get angry."
>Plumsweet looks a little sad at that
>"No wan' make Dadad angwy. Onwy happy. Take bad wa-wa when Dadad sweepy."
>You scratch her behing the ears, which brightens her up
"Good girl. I think you're going to fit in here just fi-..."
>"What the HELL is that fuckin' thing!?"
>Oh great. Dad's up.

>Plumsweet squeaks something about "Bad wowds" and covers her ears with her tiny hooves
>You turn around and see your dad leaning on the door frame, holding his head and looking pretty hung-over
"H-hey dad... Have a good night?"
>"Don't ignore me. What is that furry little... THING doing in my house?"
>Plumsweet is trembling now, not yet realising that hiding behind her hooves isn't making her invisible
"She's a fluffy pony, dad. Her name is Plumsweet. She's my pet."
>He glares at you through bloodshot eyes and growls through gritted teeth
>"I said no more pets. Or did you not hear me, you little shit?"
>Ok, the verbal abuse only started when he fell off the wagon, but it's already wearing thin
"No, you said no DOGS. Does this look like a dog to you, dad?"
>He looks down at the quivering ball of fluff
>"No, it looks like a fucking stupid-coloured dish cloth with legs and a tail."
>Plumsweet has started squeaking to herself
>"P-p-pwease noisy munsta, no huwt Pwumsweet..."
>"Jesus Christ, it sounds like a retarded kid! The colour, the voice... You could've just told me you were a faggot instead of getting this stupid looking thing."
>Ok, that's it
"Dad, shut up a minute. I bought Plumsweet because this is what you need. Not booze, not hang-overs, and not wallowing in self pity."
>Your voice is steadily getting louder, and Plumsweet has started looking out behind her hooves
"You think you were the only one who loved Missy? We ALL fucking did! I cried like a bitch when she died, so did Mum! You're the only one who can't move past it. You're so caught up in how sad you are, that you can't see how you're treating everyone else! For fuck's sake, Dad, you HIT MUM. You've never hit anyone, and you decide it's a good idea to start smacking around your WIFE?!
>He's just staring at you now, face blank, mouth tight
>Plumsweet has stopped shaking now, and is looking at you curiously
"You've got to stop this, Dad. You're hurting US, and you're hurting YOURSELF. So we bought Plumsweet to help you heal. She's a creature of infinite love, she can help you if you let her... If you let US."
>Your dad is silent for a few tense moments before moving towards you
>"NEVER. Speak to me like that. EVER again. Now where is my piss?"
>You look down to the litterbox at your feet...
>... And see a bottle of Absolut vodka getting shat on by a fluffy pony
>Your dad sees this, and his face contorts
>Plumsweet looks up, and looks sternly at your dad
>... Looks about as intimidating as a girl guide crossed with a Pokemon, but you're sure it's impressive to a fluffy
>"Dadad no dwink bad wa-wa! Make daddy an' mummy sad, make Dadad no smeww pwetty! Pwumsweet wan' aww hoomans be happy."
>Your dad just got told off by a fluffy pony
>That's gotta hurt
>He's gobsmacked, can't think of anything to say for a while
>Until...
>"I'm going out."
>With that, he's gone off in his car
>You look down at Plumsweet, who is now kicking fluffy litter onto her poop
>Somehow, you think this is going to work
>Somehow...