The Farm

>Room-mate joins the Navy, moves out.
>Can't pay the rent alone.
>Need new situation.
>Fluffy pony breeder needs farm hands.
>Pay is crappy, but room & board included.
>No better option.
>Go to work at fluffy pony farm.
>Profit margin on fluffy ponies is not very good.
>Pet stores charge $2.00 for fluffy pony.
>Farmer only gets $0.65 a head.
>No heath insurance.
>Low man on totem pole.
>Expect to get the shit jobs.
>Always get the shit jobs.
>No 401k.

>Farmer Billy Bob explains first task.
"These dang things are stupid as hell. Old horse stalls lined with straw are pretty safe but a few of 'em still die every night."
>Feeding time.
>Farmer Billy Bob and his experienced farm hands dump feed into the troughs.
>Fluffy ponies rush over, squealing "Fwoods!" "Hungwy!"
"See them that's not eatin'?"
>A few ponies remain still in each stall.
"Gather them up. They's dead."
>Pick up all the dead fluffies, cart them out back.
>Load them into a heavy plastic drum.
>Ready to pour acid on them, to dissolve carcasses.
>Pile moves.
>damnit.jpg
>"I pwaying!" comes voice burried in pile. "Find fluffy! Hide & seek!"
>Start digging in pile, looking for the live one.
>Farmer Billy Bob walks over.
"What the hell you doin' boy?"
>"There's a live one in there."
"Boy, lemme explain somthin' to you."
>Farmer Billy Bob explains.
"Boy, I'm payin' you eight American dollars an hour. If you go diggin' in that mess for 15 minutes that's $2 wasted on an animal I only get 65 cents for."
>Understand his wisdom.
"Just pour the fuckin' acid, boy. There's plenty more work to do."
>Pour the acid like he says.
>Seconds later, coughing and screaming come from pile.
>"Owwwiee! Hewp! Hewp! Fluffy buwning!"
>Screaming only continues for a few minutes.
>Plenty more work to do.

>Fluffies spend most of the day in the paddock.
"They gotta be watched at all times. Stupid goddamn things find a new way to kill themselves every day."
>Farmer Billy Bob's leathery wife shows you your job.
>Fluffy ponies run and play constantly.
"If one stops movin', keep yer eye on 'em. It's either dyin' or shittin'."
>Fluffy ponies are only allowed to shit in one corner of the paddock, otherwise the whole paddock would fill up with shit.
>Fluffies would get shit all over their fluff.
>Pet store buyers don't like that.
>25% of fluffy ponies die when you try to wash them.
>Better to just keep the shit out of their fluff.
>In one corner is a shit trench, covered by a safety grate.
"If you see one of 'em shittin' anyplace but that trench, get 'em. Look, there's one now!"
>Fluffies trying to shit are easy to spot.
>It takes most of their dim mental power to take a crap, so they squat in one place, straining for a long time.
>Farmer Billy Bob's leathery wife jumps the fence.
>Grabs shitting fluffy by the tail, jams shock-stick directly into asshole.
>Fluffy pony screams.
"You poop over here!"
>Carries whimpering fluffy pony to shit trench.
>"Sowweee, onwy make poopies in poopie place! Sowwee!"
>Whimpering fluffy has forgotten to shit...tries to nurse burned asshole by licking.
>Farmer Billy Bob's leathery wife hands me shock-stick.
"Got that? Now remember to plug that thing in at the end of the day. News hands always forgettin' to do that then bitchin' that all the shock-sticks have dead batteries."

>New day.
>New gross job to do.
>Shit trench is full.
"Alright, boy...we gotta cover this up with dirt and dig a new one."
>Other farm hands herd fluffy ponies out into neighboring pen.
"Pull up them safety grates first, boy."
>Pull up heavy, shit encrusted grates.
>One yellow unicorn fluffy gets away from farm hands.
>"Got make poopies!"
>Runs toward shit trench, can't stop.
>Expecting grates to be there...no grates.
>Yellow fluffy falls into a trench of liquid shit & piss.
>damnit.jpg
>Try to fish her out with shovel.
"What the hell you doin' boy? You ain't never gonna get that shit outta her fluff. Hell, she'd probably die in the bath."
>Okay.
>Start shoveling dirt.
>"Hewp! Can't get out stinky poopies! Hewp pwease!" begs fluffy unicorn, desperatly trying to stay afloat in liquid poop.
>Gradually fluffy pony is dragged under, gagging and eventually drowning in liquid shit.
>Cover up trench, dig a new one, put safety grates in place.
>Fluffy ponies can now safely return to the paddock.

>Nearing sundown.
>Time to herd fluffy ponies back into barn.
>Your job.
>Other farm hands sit on fence and laugh as you try to round fluffies up.
>Fluffy ponies continue running and laughing.
>"Wan pway!" "New Fwiend!" "Hugs pwease?"
>They're hugging your legs, it's impossible to walk.
>goddamnit.jpg
>Getting late. Farmer Billy Bob's leathery wife is calling you farm hands to supper.
>Experienced farm hand finally takes pity on you.
"Watch...this is how you do it."
>Grabs old pick-up truck antenna.
"GET YOUR FLUFFY ASSES IN THE BARN NOW!"
>Panicked fluffies scramble to get to the barn first, tiny hooves sliding on the grass.
>Frantic bottleneck as they all fight to get thru the door at once.
>One pink fluffy tumbles over, can't get on its feet quick enough...already crying in fear.
"You're last."
>Experienced farm hand picks pink fluffy up by the scruff of its neck.
>"Nooo! Pweease no sowwy stick! Pweease!"
>Experienced farm hand explains;
"Last one to the door always gets a beating."
>Proceeds to whip the shit out of crying pink fluffy.
>Hands you the antenna.
"Do your job or they'll never listen to you."
>Proceed to give unlucky fluffy more whacks.
>Finally release fluffy pony...it scampers inside barn.
"No fluffy pony is ever last twice."
>Go inside to supper.
>Meatloaf, mashed potatoes & gravy, green beans.

>Pet store buyers always come on a Thrusday so they can have fresh inventory for the weekend.
>Fluffy ponies love Thursday, only day they get sugar.
>Sugar makes them hyper, more active. Fluffies look livelier to buyers.
>Every fluffy thinks it's going to get a new family today, none understand they're going to a pet-store to live in a cage until they're bought or die.
>Every fluffy pony wants to get picked.
>One buyer picks a dozen.
"Can I get these pre-amputated? I don't have the stuff in my shop."
>Farmer Billy Bob nods.
"Yep. They're $0.80 amputated."
>Buyer thinks for a minute.
"Okay, gimme six amputated, six regular."
>Farmer Billy Bob grumbles about cheap bastard but agrees.
"Jethro, show the new boy how to do it."
>You and Jethro pick out six fluffy ponies.
>You don't need to cage or carry them...they follow you happily because they think they're getting new families.
>Lead them to a work shed, close the door tight.
>Jethro wastes no time.
"Heat up that propane torch. Gotta do this quick."
>Fluffies are still happy. Blue flames are "pwetty."
>Jethro is a pro. He snatches one up.
>It's giggling.
>Before it knows something is wrong, Jethro takes front leg off with a saw.
>Fluffy pony looks dumbly at stump until the pain hits.
"Cauterize!"
>Burn stump with torch, just enough to stop bleeding. Fluffy is screaming.
>Jethro already has other front leg off; he's fast.
"Always do the fronts first. If they wiggle away they can't move without the fronts. If you do the backs first they can still drag themselves around by the fronts and sometimes they bleed out before you can catch and cauterize 'em."
>Back legs amputated & cauterized, first fluffy done.
>Other fluffy ponies are crying and trying to flee.
>No place to hide. Shed is set up specifically for this.
>You catch each fluffy in turn.
>Jethro amputates, you cauterize.
>Done. Load amputated fluffy ponies in a wheel-barrow and take them to buyer.
>Other six, non-amputated ponies look at their weeping "fwiends."
>"Why no weggies?"
>Amputated ponies are too traumatized, probably couldn't explain anyway.
>Buyer is impressed.
"Your boys do good work. I think I'll have all 12 pre-amputated."
>Farmer Billy Bob is pleased.
>These next six do not go along happily like the first.

>Weeks pass.
>Gaining experience.
>Getting to be a pretty respectable farm hand.
>Other farm hands accept you as one of their own.
>One day, Farmer Billy Bob accidentally leaves the safety grate loose on the shit trench.
>White pegasus fluffy falls in.
>It's not full this time, he tries to scramble out, hooves unable to get traction on walls slippery with crap.
>Ignore his desperate begging "Pwease hewlp get out!"
>More trouble than it's worth.
>Surprisingly, fluffy pegasus actually struggles free on his own.
>He's filthy with shit.
>damnit.jpg
>If the other fluffies see him they're just gonna hug him.
>Soon every fluffy pony in the paddock will be covered in poop.
>Boot on his face.
>Force him back into shit trench.
>Lock the safety grate in position properly.
>Fluffy pegasus doesn't understand.
>Whines and cries for help getting out.
>Other fluffies look and see him but are too stupid to help.
>Finally their need to poop overcomes their sympathy.
>White pegasus is shit on all day by his "fwiends."
>His fluff wet with feces, he dies during the cold night.
>Two days later Farmer Billy Bob's leathery wife gives you a $0.50 per hour raise.
>Drink some home-made wine with the boys to celebrate.

>Eating lunch with the boys
>Watching the fluffy ponies in their paddock
>See something going on at one of the edges of the paddock
>Suddenly a fluffy pony bolts free, somehow squeezed through the fence
>Boss shouts for us to go catch the damn thing before it gets away
>Older farmhand, halfway through his sandwich, sighs and slaps two dollars on the table
>Pulls an old revolver out from under his coat
>Takes careful aim
>Shot blasts the fleeing fluffy pony's head into pulp
>"There, problem solved"
>"You're still cleaning up the mess after lunch!"
>"Yeah, yeah"
>We finish eating

>Weeks pass.
>Close to foaling time the pregnant mares are taken out of the paddock.
>They're put into individual plastic cages so they can't wrestle or hug, and damage the foals.
>"Why no pway with fwiends?" they whimper.
>It's pointless to explain.
>The day arrives.
>Farmer Billy Bob's leathery wife helps you birth your first.
>Fluffy mare is shaved again (fluff grows fast).
>Give a shot to induce labor.
>Fluffy pony is afraid of needle, needs to be held down.
>Foal is coming.
>Feet poke out first.
"Just reach in there and grab it."
>Force hand up fluffy pony vag, tearing it a little.
>Pull out slippery foal.
>"Dat my baby?" asks confused mare.
>Farmer Billy Bob's leathery wife wipes it off and puts it straight into the incubator, hooked up to a rubber feeding tit full of artificial pony milk.
"She's done. Stitch her up and put her back in the paddock."
>Use a needle and silk thread to repair torn fluffy vag.
>Pull the ear tag off.
>Put mare back in paddock with other fluffies.
>Fluffies run to her.
>"Pway?"
>"Where baby?"
>Fluffies look confused. "Pway?"

>Shortly after the above
>Farmer Billy Bob's leathery wife appears
>with a task for you
>Second part of breeding season: the males.
You're gonna meet Jack today. But first, let's round up the prime "stallions" in paddock 1"
>"Jack?" you think
>She also instructs you to take this herd to the Shed (where you performed the amputations)
>Later, in the shed, you meet Leathery Wife
>the "stallions" wrestle or just run around
>She produces a silvery wand
>linked to a black box with a power cord,
>attached to a silvery test-tube by a wire
"This is an Electro-Jac unit. It electrically stimulates the prostate of the "stallion" to release semen without external stimulation."
>"How does that work?" you ask
>rather than explaining, she grabs a green "stallion"
>what are you-
>she flips the colt onto his back
>searches around in the fur and slips the silvery
>test tube and wire down there
>he thinks he's being tickled and giggles
>she brusquely flips the pone back over, giggling still
>jams the rod RIGHT IN ITS POOPER
>pone is now uncomfortable, mumbles about "owies"
"don't grab it during this part, you'll get zapped"
>plugs it in
>pone straightens out in a horrifying rictus
>releases a vibrato-filled squeak the whole time
>unplugs
>pone falls limp
>she quickly removes her apparatuses
>unscrews test tube
>dumps what looks like marshmallow fluff
>into a container which leaks fog
"That's one," she says. "The shock has the advantage of resetting their short-term memory, so they won't remember anything about this but 'warm hugsies inside' as i've heard"
>You nod understandingly
>She hands you the tools.
>You fumblingly complete the first part of the process
>You jam the wand in a little too deep, producing a shriek
>you shrug as you turn on the power
>15 ponies later, you've finished the lot
>Leathery Wife proclaims you an expert
>you cart the unconscious pones to a stall lined with hay
>when they awake, they rejoin their friends.
>Leathery wife bakes you a pie
>such is life on the farm

>Finish the process of foaling newborn fluffy ponies
>Most of the foals are put into incubators
>You see that several of the foals were simply placed in the paddock with the rest of the fluffies, some of the ponies hugging them
>Ask Farmer Billy Bob about this
We had more than we were expecting. It happens from time to time, the mares foal multiple times.
>You nod
Problem is we don't have enough incubators. So we just leave the weak ones out. Chances are they wouldn't survive even if they got in the incubators.
>You look down at the little balls of fluff, their eyes still closed and their legs too weak to stand on yet
>You ask why he leaves them with the others then
Well, it gives them something to keep them busy, for one. Anything to keep them shittin' little morons in one place for a while.
>You notice that several of the older fluffies, some of the mares you helped give birth, are near the babies
>They are snuggling with them, saying "Wuv babies!"
The other reason we do it is once them little ones die, we just feed em to the older ones anyway. Their so stupid they don't even realize what they're eating.
>You are not surprised at this point