The Fluffy Factory: Obsolescence

>Sunflower has only been pregnant one time since she gave birth to the white foals.
>She fought you when you took those new babies away.
>When that failed, she tried to kill her litter again.
>Since resets aren't working, Sarah has taken her out of the birth cycle for now.
>Sunflower's new job is to keep her monotone white pegasus daughter, Tundra, company.
>They are very good friends, but neither remembers that they're related.
>Tundra has been put in the sex pit once already with her white-fluffed, pale blue-maned earth fluffy brother Ice, but they wouldn't copulate.
>They were kind of small, so it was probably too soon.
>Now, after eight weeks, they're almost fully grown.
>Sarah has asked that you try again.
>For whatever reason, Tiffany isn't allowed anywhere near the white siblings.
>Their procreation is entirely in your hands.
>Ice forgot about being Tundra's brother long ago, but still knows something is off.
>He sniffs at her a lot while he's in the sex pit with her.
>You surmise that she must smell almost exactly like he does, which confuses him.
>You've been told to avoid the pheromone spray if at all possible, so you just have to wait them out.
>A sex pit has been set aside solely for their use, so you've decided to leave them in there all day.
“Come on Ice, get to work.”
>”Pwetty fwiend smeww wike Ice!  No suwe if wan' make huggies wif pwetty fwiend...”
>”Tundah smeww wike Ice too!”
>Sunflower watches this spectacle with some disdain.
>”Mista, no wet Ice huwt Tundah fwiend!” she asks.
>Ice nuzzles his sister's fluff.  She whinnies nervously.
>”Tundah no wike dis, wan' pway somefin ewse...”
“I'll give you a cookie if you give her special hugs, Ice.”
>”Wan' cookie!” he nods furiously, but when he looks back at Tundra, he makes an uncomfortable face.  “Ice no am suwe, pwetty fwiend smeww funny.”
>Sunflower knows something isn't right about this, but she can't remember exactly what.
>”Pwease no huwt Tundah fwiend, Ice!”
>He nods rapidly at her, but doesn't know why.  He never listens to other mares.  “No am, be nice to pwetty fwiend!”
>Hours pass with no luck.  You're out of options.
>You grab the spray and give Tundra's shaved hindquarters a slight misting.
>It's like flipping a switch.  Ice, his hips already thrusting, mounts Tundra.
>”Eenf!  Eenf!  Why Ice weggies do dis, no am suwe eenf!  If eenf!  If wan'!  Eenf!”
>Tundra yells for help and buzzes her wings frantically, causing Sunflower to slam her head on her cage door.
>”NO HUWT TUNDAH FWIEND, GIF BIG OWWIES!” she shrieks.
>After two minutes, Ice finishes, panting as he rolls off Tundra's back.
>”Ice scawed, why weggies no wissen?” he sniffles.
>You return them to their respective cages and the waiting game begins anew.
>Three days later, you arrive for work in the basement.
>You check Tundra first, as usual.  She looks confused about something.
>”Mista, Tundah feew funny in tummy pwace!”
>Success.  You head back up to tell Sarah.
>Tiffany had been handling all the dam work every other day, but Sarah orders you to see Tundra's pregnancy through yourself.
>If white genes are recessive, she might be a literal gold mine of foals.
>Sarah wants nothing left to chance, and she trusts you the most of all the basement staff.
>Tundra is moved to basement two immediately, much to Sunflower's chagrin.
>Like the fluffies above, the dams are extremely well-behaved in the presence of Tiffany, making your job easier.
>As the gestation period continues, Tundra swells to an enormous size.
>”Mista, hewp!  Why Tundah am so big?  Tundah weggies no wowk!”
“Babies are coming, Tundra, relax.”
>She is mesmerized by the concept of babies.
>Most of her babbling becomes singing to them.
>”Tundah haf babehs, Tundah wuv babehs, babehs wuv Tundah, Tundah wuv babehs...”
>Hopefully, she won't follow in her mother's hoofsteps when it comes to maternal instinct.
>Physically, everything is going well.
>In fact, the Tundra and the other dams are proving less an issue than your blonde co-worker.
>Steve notices her irritability as well, but neither of you ask her about it.
>You don't want to get stabbed to death.
>Tundra reaches full swell after fifteen days of pregnancy.
>Almost all your time at work is spent with the dams at this point, to make sure someone is there if Tundra enters labor.
>Tiffany becomes increasingly annoyed with this arrangement, but fuck her.  She can take it up with the boss.
>At noon of the sixteenth day, the fun begins.
>”Mista!  Mista!  Hewp!  Biggest poopies!  Tundah no can weach witta bocks!”
>Damn it, you were just about to take lunch.
>Oh well.  You send Tiffany to find Sarah.
>You've gotten Tundra to the table and started the massaging process as she arrives.
>”What is Tiffany's problem lately?”
“Hell if I know.  She's not taking it out on the fluffies, so I could care less.”
>A foal emerges from Tundra's shaved rear and begins squeaking immediately.
>”Babeh!”
“Easy, you can see them when I'm done.”
>”Wan' babeh, pwease wet haf babeh!”
>Two minutes later, a pair of squeaking foals slide out.
>”Babehs!  Mo' babehs!  Tundah haf wossa babehs!”
>There's no afterbirth, so you keep going.
>Sarah stands beside you, trying to figure out what color the bloody foals are.
>Two more foals plop out, along with a placenta.  You cut the cords and help Tundra turn around to check them.
>”Babehs!  Mumma hewe, gif huggies and wuv to babehs!”
>She cleans every one of them, cooing happily.
>They are all at least partially white.
>You type and sex them.
>There are two monotone white pegasus, both female.
>A male earth fluffy has white fluff and a very pale yellow mane and tail.
>The litter is rounded out by two female earth fluffies, one monotone white, the other white with a powdery grey mane and tail.
>Sarah looks down at the litter and folds her arms.  A smile spreads slowly across her face.
>”Jackpot.”
>The real test comes now, however.  You begin removing the foals to put them in their respective pens.
>”Why take babehs?  Mista!  No huwt babehs, wuv babehs!”
“I won't hurt them, Tundra.”
>She watches you set the pegasus twins in the pen, right beside an oddly nervous Cherry.
>”Babehs go in babeh pwace?  Babehs no huwt?”
>The look on Tundra's face is hard to describe.  It's a happy, worried, sad sort of exhaustion.
>”Pwease gif babehs, Tundah no wike dis...”
>She makes no attempt to hurt her other foals, but whinnies unhappily when you remove the ones she's hugging.
>Mission accomplished.  Sarah looks extremely pleased.
>Tundra is unsettled as you set her back in her cage, but her expression of that feeling is limited to low, worried chattering and anxious stares.
>Sarah heads upstairs.  You follow after cleaning up and ensuring the new foals get their milk.
>When you get up there, Sarah is crouched in front of Sunflower's cage.
>”Sunfwowa miss Tundah, whewe fwiend Tundah?” she asks.
>”She just had her babies.  Lots of healthy, happy babies.”
>”Mista take babehs fwom fwiend?”
>”He sure did.  And you know what?  Tundra was a good fluffy.  She didn't bite him, or her babies...unlike you.”
>She opens the cage and takes Sunflower out, holding her by the scruff.
>She whines anxiously, her legs wiggling.
>”Tundra gave me a whole litter of white foals.  I'm afraid you and your attitude are no longer necessary.”
>Sunflower struggles with the big words, but the tone is unmistakable.
>“Nissawessy?  Wha dat?  Wha mean?  Mean, mean bad?  Sunfwowa sowwy!  Sunfwowa good fwuffy, no mean be bad!”
>Sarah just smiles again, carrying her across the room while she babbles her pleas.
>She holds Sunflower over the empty trash can by the stallion cages.
>”Do you know what this is?”
>The uneasy fluffy looks down.  “Is...is no smeww pwetty pwace?”
>”That's right.  Do you know what goes in it?”
>Sunflower blinks a few times, racking her brain.  “...bad poopies?”
>Sarah nods.  “What else?”
>”Yikky nummies?  Bad poopies...bad poopies?” she repeats, already out of ideas.
>”There's something else that goes in here.”
>“Wha--”
>Sunflower can't even get the word out before Sarah throws her down into the can, rattling it fiercely.
>”WHY HUWT SUNFWOWA?!” she yelps.
>You can smell the shit already as you walk over and look down into the can.
>Her muzzle drips blood, and her forelegs are bent at grotesque angles.
>She tries to raise up on the side of the can, but slides down, wailing in pain, whenever she applies pressure to her ruined front legs.
>”Hewp Sunfwowa!  Weggies haf big huwties, Sunfwowa need huggies!  Pwease hewp!”
>Sarah lifts her up by the scruff.  Liquefied feces drips from her unshaven hindquarters, clinging to formerly yellow fluff.
>”Fank you, Sunfwowa haf big huwties, huggies make betta!  Pwease g--”
>She is hurled down again, this time face first.
>The only noise she can manage now is a series of pained, wet gurgles.  Her snout has been completely obliterated.
>She rolls around frantically, pawing at her smashed face and struggling for air.
>Sarah dusts off her hands, reaching down beside the can and grabbing the lid.
>After she puts the lid on, she looks over at the whimpering stallions.
>A lot of them have shit themselves in fear.
>”Sorry about that.”
“It's fine, Steve and I were going to clean the cages after lunch anyway.”
>Sarah nods idly, looking down at the can.
>It wobbles slightly.  You can barely make out Sunflower's agonized murmurs.
>”Well, before you start on the cages, take out the trash.”