The Sketti Man in the Big City

Mr_Potatamoto, April 10, 2017; 03:16 / FB 45656
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The Sketti Man in the Big City

I tell ya, friend, it is good to be back home. What's that you say? Flintstones Push-Up? Now how in the heckfire do you even know what that is? Hell, I barely know what that is! What the...heh, ah never mind. Reckon it doesn't matter. I'm a Sketti Man, as I'm sure you know. Part of the reason every fluffy in our town has a good, safe loving home. Point of fact, I'm just back from a trip to the big city, and if you got the time, I wouldn't mind bendin' your ear to tell you how it went.

Now, fact of the matter is, our little town's Sketti Men've been gettin' a lot of attention around the country. Works like a dream, y'know? Hell, if I see a born feral comin' up to my truck more'n once a month these days, it's a shock. Couple other little towns have Sketti Men of their own now, figured it'd just be a matter of time before they tried it in a real city. And seems the city's big wigs wanted a few veteran Sketti Men to get 'em through the pilot. And wouldn't you know it, but they picked me to head up there and show 'em a thing or two.

Now, I remember back when the program first started in our little town. Had close to twenty trucks back then, and when the fluffs came out in force we'd take it in turns to head back to base, drop our load and come back. Worked pretty good, but a slapdash kinda plan like that wouldn't cut it in the big city. So they got a whole fleet of trucks, buncha little single jobs like I one I usually drive, and then quite a few of these massive rigs, meant for two Sketti Men. Those're the one they were gonna use for the first wave. Time goes on, ferals thin out, and eventually they'll get to the point that they just need a few Sketti Men in single trucks, doin' routes through the city. Probably need a few more'n the four our little town has, but it'll do the trick.

So for the very first day of the city's Sketti Man launch, I'm drivin' one of these extra-large Sketti Man trucks, paired with this young fella...hmm...well, sorry to say I couldn't tell you his name. Just had one of them...anonymous demeanors, I guess you might say. He was wound a bit tight, but sure seemed eager for the job, y'know? So, early in the mornin', we set out on our first route. Big ol' rig still quiet as a whisper thanks to them hydrogen fuel cells. And followin' behind us comes this big ol' truck haulin' a freezer car. I see you're curious, but I'll explain that in just a bit.

Gotta admit, I gave quite a wince when I flipped the switch and that damned song started playin' through the city streets...

[I]Sketties am bestest nummies!
Sketti Man hab bestest Sketties fow aww fwuffies!
Pwease come owt fow yummy nummy Sketties![/I]

And I wasn't the only one.

"Christ! Fuckin' shitrats are singing in like eight different keys and they're [I]all[/I] wrong!"

I got a bit of a chuckle out of that. "Well, I ain't gonna say you'll ever like the song or even get used to it, but it sure gets the job done. In fact, I think I might just see our first customers right now."

My new partner's eyes just lit up when he saw the fluffies creepin' out of the alley in front of us, and a downright nasty smile showed up on his face. "Oh yeah, there they are!"

I stopped the truck and both of us got to our stations, pullin' up the shutters on the two big old counters set in the side of the truck. As we do that, a little platform slides up from under the truck, with a little ramp landin' on the sidewalk. Got a short little rail all around it, too big for fluffs to jump or climb too easy. A nice little touch to keep the little buggers from pressin' right up against the truck if we get a big a crowd.

Does look like we're startin' slow, though. Just one little feral family, comin' up to the truck all cautious like. Dad's a green pegasus, looks pretty thin. Momma's an orange earthie, not lookin' too much better, though it seems like Daddy's been givin' her most of the food. The three little young'uns chirpin' on her back still sound mighty hungry though.

They all stop a few feet short of the ramp, Dad in front. "Mistas weawwy hab skettis fow fwuffy famiwy?" he asked, sounding hopeful, but like he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it.

I give him a big ol' friendly smile. "Well you just better believe we do!" I said, grabbin' a couple of cans and bowls from under the counter.

"Yeah, we got all the 'skettis' you guys can eat!" My partner says. And lemme tell you, it's damn good thing fluffies are about as sharp as, well, a sack of wet fluffies, 'cause even a toddler could hear the malice in his voice.

I pop the bowls in the microwave for the ten seconds it takes for them to heat up to fluffy-preferred temperature. Momma and Daddy start droolin' as the smell of warm skettis hit their noses, and the foals start peepin' up a right old storm. I set both bowls on the counter. "Come on up, got all the sketti you both could want. And, if you like, when you're full we can see about gettin' all of you a nice, safe new home with a Momma or a Daddy that'll just love you forever."

My partner snickered. "Yeah, the Sketti Man knows [I]exactly[/I] where you belong!" I must admit, I might have rolled my eyes a bit at that.

Daddy still was tryin' to make up his mind when Momma tried to push past him, crying. "Pwease need sketties fow bestest miwkies fow babbehs!"

"NU!" Daddeh put himself in front of the ramp, blocking her. She looked at her mate with tears in her eyes.

"Why speshul fwend am meanie?"

Daddy swallowed. "Fwuffy daddeh gu fiwst...if Mista Sketti Mans am meanies, den bestest fwuffy mummah wun 'way, sabe babbehs."

Well, Momma's eyes widen like the thought hadn't even occurred to her. Which of course it hadn't. Daddy here was pretty bright, for a fluff. A keychain flashlight in a world of glow sticks, y'know?

Momma nuzzled Daddy's face. "Speshul fwend am su bwave!"

My partner gave a snort. "Like we'd let any of you get away..." he muttered under his breath.

Well I gave him a look for that. "Hey, you wanna shut that up? Fluffs ain't bright, but they got ears. You make it look good," I told him, real quiet like. Luckily, our little family was too busy hugging to pay us much mind.

Well Daddy finally came up the ramp. "Pwease Mista Sketti Mans, fwuffy daddeh am weady."

Well, I didn't make a move, so my partner grunted and lifted him up onto his side of counter gently enough. The little green fella still looked unsure, and I'll grant ya, he actually paused for a half a second before buryin' his muzzle in that bowl of cheap lukewarm pasta.

He ate so fast and was cryin' so hard he was hiccupping when he lifted his head again. "Fwuffy *hic* wuv *hic* Sketti Mans! Speshul fwend *hic* come an' *hic* come an' *hic* hab sketties, make bestest miwkies *hic* fow aww bestest *hic* babbehs!"

Well, you didn't have to tell her twice, she waddled up that ramp lickety-split. As I lifted her up, I could see Daddy already sitting down, startin' to nod all sleepy like. The sedative in our special blend starts workin' fast as anything.

"You make sure you give that boy a nice hug so Momma and everyone can see before you take him back," I told my partner in a firm voice. He was gonna hafta learn how things were done.

He shot me a dirty look, but he did sure enough give the green fella a quick hug before carryin' him outta sight.

"Wewe Mista Sketti Man bwing speshul fwend?" Momma asked me.

I just smiled. "A nice safe place where you all can rest while we find you a new home," I told her, and she nodded, maybe a trifle uncertainly, but that didn't stop her from burying her face in her bowl of sketties just as fast as her mate did.

"Ohhhh...mummah wuv Mista Sketti Man!" she groaned when she finished. "Huuu, mummah nebah be su happies!" she started cryin' again. "Babbehs, come an dwink bestest sketti miwkies!" She yawned. "Huu...mummah hab sweepies..."

"Come on there little girl," I said, liftin' her up and giving her a hug. "Let's get you with your special friend, then your babies can have all the milk you can drink."

So I carried her back to the long, low freezer set up against the back wall. Now, I'm a small town fella myself, and I don't always take much to how they do things in the big city, but friend, that freezer was a work of art. Back home, if the foals hadn't been weaned, I'd hafta snap their little necks before I put 'em in there, keep 'em from peepin' and carryin' on about the cold. Messy, sometimes, if they had any shit on deck. But this baby was so cold, the little peepers'd be dead in three minutes flat, along with their parents, assuming the sedative didn't stop their hearts first.

Twice as big as the ones in the single trucks, too. These babies could hold about two dozen fluffs with no worries. Course, the icing on the cake, the part that made me want to find the man who thought it up and buy that genius a drink, was the reason that truck with the freezer car was followin' us. See, thing is, we'd actually put the fluffs in a thick plastic box set inside the freezer proper. And that box could be popped out of the freezer through a hatch that opened on the side of the truck opposite the counter, see what I'm sayin'?

It gets full, I give the signal, two boys hop out of the truck behind up, pop out the plastic canister, toss it in the freezer car, pull out an empty and pop it into our truck's freezer, neat as neat. Takes less than three minutes. And that freezer can can hold fifteen canisters. That's one hundred eighty fluffs served before anyone has to head back to HQ. Beats having to drive back and dump a load in the grinder every dozen fluffs by a LONG shot, let me tell you. 'Course, again, after the first few big rushes, won't be much need for those measures, but when you do need 'em, it's mighty convenient. Pure genius, like I said.

And boy I tell you, we needed that first switch out pretty darn quick. By the time I got back my partner was already liftin' a gimpy little pink unicorn up onto the counter. And there were three more fluffs waitin' their turn on the sidewalk none too patiently. This city was definitely gonna put this old Sketti Man through his paces.

Just a couple hours later, we were on our fourth freezer canister. My partner was gettin' pretty settled at this point, and I was losin' some of the worry I had for him. He was learnin' fast.

The 'song' kept on playin', and when I heard "SKETTIS!" cried out, I just pulled to a stop automatically. Then I heard the babblin'. Lookin' out the window, I saw a knot of eight grown fluffs with a buncha young'uns of all ages. And lookin' past them, I saw a wall, a gate and a lot of grass and trees.

I said a couple words I ain't too proud of and grabbed the radio. "HQ, this is Truck 003. We're by the north entrance of Cherrywood Park. We're gonna need backup. Two more double-sizes, ASAP."

My partner was lookin' at me like I'd slipped a stitch. "Jeez man, chill. We can handle it!"

I must've gave him a look that could spoil new milk, 'cause he shut up mighty quick. "Boy, if we're pullin' herds outta that park we're gonna be lucky if three trucks is all we need. Maybe you couldn't be bothered to pay much mind, but I saw how many ferals they think're livin' in there."

He mumbled something that mighta been a sorry and we opened the shutters and got to work. Soon at the ramp came down I heard it. "Dummeh Sketti Man gib skettis NAO!"

Goddamn Smarties. Even in our little town, I still see my share...not leadin' herds, but a pet turnin' Smarty is a big reason for them endin' up on the streets. Best thing to do with 'em, especially in a situation like this one, is get 'em fed and in the freezer quick as quick so they don't cause more trouble'n they need to.

My partner though...I saw a vein pop up on his temple and I knew we had a problem.

Y'know, way back, in a past that's been dead and buried for more'n twenty years, I was a park ranger. And more than once, I had to put down a bear or some other critter that had gotten too close to people, broke property, hurt, even killed someone. Never felt much about it, couldn't even get up much anger. Dumb creature just strayed from its place.

Same with fluffies. Of course, their place ain't the deep woods, it's inside. In our walls, in our fences. We made 'em, so their place is with us. And when they stray from us, nobody's happy, not us, not the fluffs. They're a miserable nuisance, nothin' more. And like the bears I had to put a bullet in a lifetime ago, the nuisance just needs to go. It's the job, and the job is the job is the job. A man should take pride in his work, but there ain't a need to get too excited about it one way or the other.

But this boy...well, he grabbed that dull yellow unicorn up by his mane and his tail none too gentle, made the little bastard let out one of them 'screee!' noises. And then things went from bad to worse.

"DUMMEH SKETTI MAN GIB BAD UPSIES! SMAWTY GIB DUMMEH SOWWY POOPIES!" And true to his word that mustard-colored shit unloaded all over my partner's uniform. That is NOT a smell you ever get used to, friend.

Herd went dead silent. My partner just froze, his face goin' white, then red. I saw his fists clench and his shoulders tense up. "You fucking little..."

He started to lunge, but I grabbed his wrist. Young man was shaking with rage. Thought he might take a shot at me, but he had that much self-restraint. "Son," I said, deadly quiet, "this is your [I]job.[/I] And there ain't no job on this green earth where you ain't gonna take a certain amount of shit one way or another. Now, if ventin' your spleen on that one stupid little critter is worth losin' this job to you, you can take him and you can leave this truck right now and never bother lookin' back. Otherwise, be a professional, do your job and grab a fresh uniform when you drop his sorry ass in the freezer." I let go of him.

That young fella gritted his teeth so hard I swear I heard porcelain crack, but he nodded. No expression on his face, he gave the Smarty his skettis and took him back into the truck. I think he got a bit of vindictive pleasure out of the drowsy whine, "Nu smeww pwetty!" as he hugged the little fuck to his shit-covered chest. I hope so anyway. I would have.

Anyway, I could see my guess was right. The herd on the sidewalk was clamorin' for their turn, and I could see more poking out of the brush and tall grass in the park. I just hoped those other trucks'd get there soon. If the fluffs started surroundin' the truck and spillin' out into the street, things could get messy.

Then I had another problem. Next fluffy up the ramp was a tired, dirty, sad lookin' and pretty damn pregnant pegasus with a coat that looked like it might be pure white under the grime. I picked her up gentle like, but as soon as I got her on the counter a blue light went on underneath it, along with a low little buzz. "Damn," I muttered under my breath. This fluffy was chipped...and not just any chip.

I think I may have mentioned before that I don't much care for the way city folk do things most of the time? Well, this was definitely one of those times. Back home, the basic rule is that if a fluffy meets the Sketti Man, that fluffy don't have an owner, at least not one that cares to keep it safe enough to NOT meet the Sketti Man.

Here in the big city though, there was those that was makin' a big ol' stink about that. Had their designer fluffs, their show ponies, their precious pets they couldn't bare to lose. So, city government came up with a compromise. If you didn't mind paying one hell of a steep fee every six months, you could get your fluffy kitted out with a special chip that'd trip the sensor this little white girl just did. That happened, each of these trucks had six little soundproof boxes set in the back wall. Just a nightlight, a scrap of blanket, a water bottle and a little litterbox inside. But it'd keep the oh-so-damn-special fluffy pony safe till we got back to headquarters and it could get back to its owner.

And of course, the show must go on, so I grabbed a blue can, rather than the usual red. The blue cans were exactly what they seemed to be, just cheap spaghetti. "Now just how did you get away from your home?" I asked her as I got her bowl ready.

The little thing sniffed pitifully. "Anise wun way in pawk fwom meanie cowd sky wawa an' scawy noisies! Bu' den Anise no see Daddeh...twy and twy bu' no can see Daddeh! Huu...meanie Smawty make Anise pawt of hewd, gib bad speshul huggies!"

"Well, here's your skettis, little girl," I say, pushing the bowl under her snout. "Dig in, and we'll get you back home."

"Tank 'oo, nice Mista Sketti Man," she said, quite politely I thought, before digging in. I still didn't much appreciate the whole system, but at least this one wasn't a brat. "Aww done!" She announced when the bowl was licked clean. "Nice Mista Sketti Man tink dat Daddeh wuv soon-mummah Anise an' gud babbehs?"

"I'm sure he will," I said as I carried her to her box. Of course, I had no earthly idea whether her owner'd still want her after getting knocked up by a feral smarty. And it didn't much matter. Soon as that lid closed, she officially stopped being my problem.

My partner had changed into a clean uniform and was standing in front of the freezer, with the lid open, looking down at the Smarty. He might've just been sleeping, till you noticed the frost already formin' on his fluff. "Well, he's gone," the young man said with a shrug.

I could hear the babblin' outside gettin' louder by the second, but I still spared a moment to stand over there next to him. "I been a Sketti Man for a good long while now, son. I've seen more Smarties than I'd care to count. Thing about them? See, no two fluffies are all that different from each other. Smarties, though...their damn identical. You seen one, you seen 'em all. They all say the same damn garbage, act just the same as all the others, react just the same to anything you care to put in front of 'em. They might be smarter than an average fluff...not that it's sayin' much...but their brains just get caught in some kinda loop. Just gotta get rid of 'em and move on."

I pointed at the mustard-yellow lump of fluff. "Makin' you mad was the most, the only important thing that creature ever did in its life. Sooner you forget it completely, the sooner it loses whatever scrap of meaning it ever had."

Saw his eyebrows twitch like what I said hit home a bit, and he nodded. Dunno and don't much care what his hobbies might be, but I figured he'd be good for the job from then on out.

Good thing, too. There were at least twenty fluffs at the truck by then, all cryin' for their skettis, blockin' up the ramp. More still lookin' out from in the park, too. Thank goodness, the other two trucks came pullin' in on either side then. Felt a bit of relief at that, I'll tell ya!

My partner and I settled into a good rhythm, then. Reminded me of the old days when I was just gettin' started. Pick 'em up, skettis, pop 'em in the freezer. Took maybe two or three minutes for each fluff, dependin' on how fast they wolfed down their skettis. Got a few more Smarties, even, and I'm proud to say my young partner didn't so much as bat an eye when he took care of 'em.

Hours later, we'd just about emptied the park out. The flood was down to a trickle. Quite victory for our first day, and I know all us Sketti Men felt like a job well done. That's when I got the call on the radio.

"Truck 003, this is headquarters. You have SAFluff Chip #0023-9876?" I glanced at the little digital readout on the white fluffy's box for the number.

"Yep, that's the one."

"We just got word from the owner...apparently he'd meant to cancel the account associated with the chip days ago but hadn't gotten around to it. He doesn't want to reclaim his property, so you can consider it a stray and process it as such."

"Roger that." I heaved a sigh as I went back to the box. Damn fool city folks with more money than sense, throwin' good money after bad. Payin' too much money for a fluffy, then payin' far too much for a chip to keep it safe, then decidin' the fluff's just not worth it once it's gone. I tell ya, I felt mighty homesick right then.

I popped open the box and wrinkled my nose a bit at the smell of the pile she'd left neatly in the middle of the tiny litterbox. She interrupted the song she was singing to her unborn brood to smile up at me. "Wook Nice Mista Sketti Man! Anise make gud poopies!"

I nodded. "Sure did baby girl. Think you got room for some more skettis?"

She thought for a moment. "Nu tank you, Nice Mista Sketti Man. When Daddeh bwing Anise home, Daddeh wiww make da bestest waviowi fow Anise and aww gud soon-babbehs! Anise wuv speshul bestest Daddeh waviowi!"

Well, damn. Polite as hell, but so spoiled she'd turn down skettis? I thought about givin' her neck a snap, but that'd be another big mess when her bowels went, and I wasn't as sure about doin' it to an adult fluff as to a little chirper. I glanced over at the freezer. It could probably hold another five or six fluffs before it needed another reload...but, well, close enough.

"Alright little girl, just gotta get you over here and you'll be with your Daddy before you know it." She sat on her haunches and lifted her forehooves for 'gud upsies' as I picked her up, feelin' her foals move around inside her tummy as I carried her to the freezer.

"Wuv bigges' fwuffpiwe!" She called as I dropped her in. "Bu' why su cowd...?" Without a word I closed the lid and hit the button that signaled the boys in the other truck to switch the freezer out. It was at least as cold in the freezer car as in the truck here...keepin' em' on ice cuts down on the mess and sanitation problems...so I figured the cold would carry her off in ten, maybe fifteen minutes. It'd do the job. Not as neat and clean as I usually prefer, which is why I didn't like those damn chips. Just makin' things more complicated.

My partner was watching as I listened for the sound of the old freezer canister being slid out and the new one going in. He nodded. "That's the job," he said.

I felt the corner of my lip come up in a satisfied little smile. He'd do, once I went back home. "Damn straight it is."