Stubborn Fluffy Foal

1/6
>Friday afternoon.
>Get home from work.
>There's a small herd of feral fluffy ponies in your back yard.
>Fuck.exe
>Not the first time this has happened.
>Get 2 pot lids.
>Stand of the back porch, banging them loudly.
"Get the hell out of here! This is not your grass!"
>Most of the fluffies scream & flee in terror.
>Not all of them though.
>One exceptionally brave foal stands its ground.
>It stomps its tiny hooves and snorts.
>He even blows you a raspberry.
>"Meanie hooman! Stawp scawe fluffies!"
>Give him a little boot.
>His terrified mother is by the fence, calling to him.
>"Babee come! Dun make hooman angwy!"
>The obstinate foal will not leave.
>A plump purple pegasus.
>"Dis pwace fow fwuffies! Meanie hooman weave!"
>You'd expect this shit from a herd alpha.
>What do they call themselves?
>"Smarty fwiends"; you've run into a few of those.
>They all died, screaming in unbelievable agony.
>They broke your fluffy pony rule.
>You don't like fluffies, but you normally don't kill them.
>Chasing them away is enough.
>UNLESS; a fluffy pony disobeys a human, or tries to give an order.
>For that the mandatory sentence is horrible, agonizing death.

2/6
>Give this little shit one chance because he's little.
"Fluffy, get out of here or I'm gonna hurt you & kill you."
>Stupid foal puffs up his cheeks and growls.
>"Dummy hooman weave ow fwuffy gif owwies!"
>A threat too? Okay...you had your chance.
>Cross lawn in three strides.
>Foal changes his attitude fast.
>You look a lot bigger up close!
>Foal turns and tries to run but his fate is sealed.
>Grab him by the tail.
>Fluffy squeals in terror...already crying.
>"Whhhaaahhh! Mummy! Mummy! Save fwuffy!"
>Mother rushes to his aid, begging for her baby's life.
>Another terrified foal clings to her fluff.
>"Pwease nice hooman gif babee? Babee nu bad...pwease nu huwt!"
>Kill the mummy too?
>No...she's begging, saying please, being courteous.
>She hasn't broken your fluffy pony rules.
"Go away. Take your good baby and leave."
>"Fwuffy weave! Fwuffy take babees...weave. Nebew come back! Pwomise!"
"Not this baby. This baby stays with me."
>Fluffy momma throws herself at your feet and cries.
>"Pwease gif babee! Fwuffy wuv babee!"
"No...this bad baby will be punished. Go away now."
>"What do wif babee?"
"I'm going to give him horrible owwies until he dies."
>Jeeze...you're talking like them now.
>Foal in your hand freaks out, thrashing & crying.
>"Nu wan' owwies! Whhaaa! Nu wan' die!"
>Mother supplicates herself before you.
>"Pwease nice hooman...dun huwt babee! Pwease!"
>Give her a gentle kick. Fluffy rolls head over heels.
>You have work to do.

3/6
>The herd had abandoned this fluffy family.
>You've scared the mother into staying out of the yard.
>She still watches from the fence line.
>It's not a fluffy-proof fence.
>She can still get in if she wants.
>Carry the bawling foal inside.
>He's not so tough anymore.
>First thing's first...quick squeeze over the shitter.
>A small squirt of runny liquid poop.
>This fluffy foal is still mostly on his mother's milk.
>Well...he's had his last meal.
>Next, a quick trim of the butt fluff.
>No nice gentle scissors or shears.
>You yank tufts of his fluff and rip it out by the roots.
>Fluffy screams and twists in your hand.
>"Owwwiiiee! Owwiiieee! Fwuffy sowwee! Pwease nu huwt!"
>His useless wings flutter frantically.
>A little sandpaper to rough up his delicate butthole.
>More screaming & tears from the foal.
>Give it a good douse with rubbing alcohol.
>Fluffy shrieks in agony.
>Enough work in the bathroom.
>Leave him in the bath tub...he can't escape.
>Go to the garage.
>Find your hammer and two carpet nails.
>This will work nicely.
>Gather up the prisoner.
>He's trying to scramble up the walls of the tub.
>It's comical.
>His tears are actually making it more slippery.

4/6
>Carrying the condemned by his tail, you go back outside.
>Fluffy momma is still hanging around the fence.
>"Pwease gif fwuffy babee back?" she begs, hopefully.
"You stay out of the yard...this baby is mine."
>She whines and cries loudly, hoping for sympathy.
>Letting her and her other foal live is enough sympathy.
>Pin the crying purple foal down by his neck.
>Line up the first nail.
>Hammer thru his left ear, into the wood of your deck.
>Fluffy foal shrieks in agony, fights to escape.
>Keep him pinned.
>Pull his other ear tight.
>Hammer the second nail thru the right ear.
>Fluffy foal is now pinned down to your deck.
>Can't even pick his head up.
>Little back legs thrash helplessly.
>Wings flutter.
>"WHHHAAAAAHH! Huwt! Owwwiee! Whaaahhh!"
>Take a step back.
>Looks good.  Death will take a while like this.
>You already cleaned him out, so no poop worries.
>Good work.  Go inside...crack a beer.

>Saturday morning.
>Look out the curtain at your fluffy prisoner.
>His mother hasn't deserted him.
>She's been with him all night.
>Licking his wounded ears, keeping him warm.
>Her face fluff is soaked with tears.
>She's been crying all night...unable to help her baby.
>He's moaning in agony.
>"Mummmyyy! Pwease hewp fwuffy! Big awfuwl owwiees! Pwease hewp!"
>Of course, she can't help him.
>His pink sister is trying to hug the owwies away.
>That only makes it worse.
>Momma is trying desperately to feed him from her teat.
>He can't lift his chin up high enough to reach it.
>She can't get her teat low enough to reach him.
>After an exhausting hour she walks a few paces away and flops over.
>Her other hungry foal suckles.
>The starving purple foal cries and moans as he watches his sister feed.

5/6
>Saturday afternoon.
>Well...can't keep this up forever.
>You need a big finish.
>Mix up a corn syrup & water solution.
>Like you'd feed a starving kitten in an emergency.
>Oh...did you think this was for the fluffy foal?
>Silly reader.
>No; this is for far superior animals.
>Take your sugar-water solution out to the back porch.
>Momma fluffy & pink sister flee when they see you.
>Sobbing, they watch from a safe distance.
>Give the suffering foal a little kick.
>His poor ears are ripped just a little more.
>He barely has the strength to scream anymore...but he does.
>Using a basting brush, paint a line of sugar water.
>Beginning at the foal's bloody butthole.
>Across the porch.
>Into the yard.
>Across the driveway.
>Directly to the red fire ant nest.
>Carefully spill a little sugar water on top.
>Get away quick.
>Don't want to mess with these little bastards.
>Go back to the house.
>Give fluffy another little kick...listen to him cry.
>Spray a line of red ant repellant between him and the door.
>You're treating those little bastards to dinner, but not inviting them inside.
>Go inside yourself.
>Crack a beer...wait for the final act in this drama.

6/6
>As soon as you're gone the fluffy momma & sister return.
>Do their best to comfort the bawling purple foal.
>Momma tries once again to feed him...no success.
>Her comforting teat is only an inch from his nose.
>He can not reach it.
>"Bwwwaaahhh! Tummy huwt, wan' nummies! Eaws huwt!"
>Momma & sister cry in futility...unable to help.
>Soon, the first ants arrive.
>A few scouts follow the sugar trail.
>They crawl up the foal's fluff.
>They find delicate, unprotected meat.
>Foal shrieks at the new pain.
>"Aaaagghh! Poopies pwace huwt!"
>His back legs kick...trying to chase away his unseen tormentor.
>The scouts report back to their nest.
>In minutes a column of ants marches toward fresh meat.
>They attack the most vulnerable spot.
>"WHHHAAAAAHHH!!! OWWIIEE! Poopies pwace tewwible huwt!"
>Foal thrashes, ripping his ears even more.
>He can not escape.
>Momma sees the problem.
>"Go 'way meanie buggies! Nu huwt babee!"
>She & her pink foal try to stomp them.
>Fluffy stomps can't even kill an ant.
>The red fire ants attack fluffy's tender butthole meat.
>They're crawling inside, eating him alive.
>Soldier ants attack the momma & sister.
>They scream and run away, rolling in the grass.
>Fluffies have no defense against the biting terrors.
>Momma & sister suffer numerous painful bites.
>They have to flee.
>The foal is left...abandoned in horrible agony.
>His struggles and screams fade slowly.
>Eventually he stops fighting.
>Death still takes hours.
>He is alive as they crawl into his eyes and pick them apart.

>Sunday morning.
>The ants have done their work.
>All that is left is fluff and perfectly cleaned bones.
>It's kinda cool...an articulated fluffy pony skeleton.
>You carefully mount it for display.
>It's a popular piece.
>All your friends want one too.
>The ants have plenty to feast on that summer.