Invasion of the Leggie Snatchers

>You don't really love or hate most fluffy ponies.
>They're sort of cute, you guess, but their sheer stupidity makes them annoying.
>However, the amputated ones freak you the fuck out.
>Your neighbor has one, a red earth fluffy with a green mane and tail.
>He calls her Holly, in reference to her holiday coloration.
>She had legs at first, but after she nearly drowned she got amputated at the vet.
>When they're in their backyard to play, you can't help but watch.
>She flops around, yelling “Howwy pwayin! Wai' fo' Howwy, daddy!”
>She wiggles and writhes and slides on the grass with a huge smile on her face.
>When she starts to 'run', her shuddering, squirming body resembles a strawberry approaching climax.
>One day, Holly is outside by herself while her owner is inside looking for a toy.
>How do you know she's alone? You heard her screaming.
>You walk out onto your back porch and look into their yard.
>A dirty yellow earth fluffy stray is mounted on top of her, fucking with all his might.
>”Hewp! Hewp! Dese huggies feel funny!” she shrieks.
>By the time you can even react, the male fluffy has reached orgasm and fallen off of her, dead.
>She wiggles around, looking like a fuzzy red calzone. “New fwiend?” she asks the yellow corpse.
>Her owner returns a few seconds later, and quickly pieces together what's happened.
>He picks up the babbling ball and runs back inside.
>You think nothing of it until he calls you over a few days later, while you're outside mowing the grass.
>”Listen, I know this is short notice, but could you watch Holly for a few hours?”
>Oh, great.
“Uh...well...”
>”Please, man, my mom's been in a car accident and I have to see how she's doing.”
>Reluctantly, you agree. He reassures you that Holly won't be due until tomorrow.
>He explains that she's also been fed and 'pooped' already, and she shouldn't have to go for a while.
>You take the fuzzy spheroid inside as he drives off. She bleats about you being her new friend and how she can't wait to play with you.
>He didn't give you a chance to tell him that there's a slight problem: you're already babysitting a fluffy.
>A fluffy with all their limbs attached.
>The terracotta-colored unicorn was asleep on the couch, but she wakes up as soon as she hears you return.
>”New fwiend?” she asks. You set Holly down, and the unicorn immediately hugs her. “Why fwuffy big?”
>”Howwy be mumma fwuffy soon!” she proclaims happily.
>The two fluffies hug and play without incident for half an hour.
>This makes you feel all right about going into the kitchen and making lunch for you and the unicorn.
>But when the unicorn plays with her blocks, the trouble begins.
>”Bwocks! Wan' pway bwocks!” Holly yells.
>The noise attracts your attention, so you go to check on your fluffy charges.
>”Come pway bwocks!” the unicorn invites her.
>Holly wriggles and crawls over after a few excruciating moments.
>Her body bends backwards as, instinctively, she reaches out for the blocks with forelegs she does not have.
>She looks utterly confused. The unicorn continues playing without her.
>”Bwocks!” Holly screams again, this time rolling onto her back.
>Now, the unicorn can see that she's legless.
>”Wha? Why you no haf weggies?”
>Holly stops trying to grabs the blocks and stares at the unicorn. “Wha? Weggies?”
>The unicorn wiggles her legs in response. “Weggies! Why you no haf?”
>Holly curls up, staring down at her swollen tummy.
>You can see the fluff on her shoulders move as her body realizes there's something missing.
>She squeals unhappily as the memory reset her owner did after the amputation collapses.
>You run over as she shakes and bounces on the carpet, screaming at the top of her lungs. “HOWWY WAN' WEGGIES! HOWWY WAN' WUN!”
>She rolls over onto her stomach before you can stop her, bouncing and writhing as much as her swollen body will allow.
>”WAN' WEGGIES! WAN' WEGGIES!” she continues to scream.
>The unicorn is scared to death, hiding in a corner and screaming apologies.
>You grab Holly gently, reminding her that the stress will hurt her foals.
>”NU CAWE! WAN' WEGGIES! GIF WEGGIES TO HOWWY!” she shrieks.
>Her body contorts and flexes with all the fluffy might she can muster.
>She suddenly makes an odd threat. “GIF WEGGIES OR HOWWY MAKE POOPIES ON YOU!”
>The fuck?
>waaaaaaaaitasecond.jpeg
>You her squeaking from her rear end as she begins to go into labor.
>A wet, blue earth fluffy foal soon plops out onto your carpet.
>Terrified, you let go of her.
>”SEE! HOWWY MAKE POOPIES! NOW GIF WEGGIES!”
“I can't!”
>”DEN HOWWY MAKE MOWE POOPIES!”
>A green earth fluffy foal plops out next, landing beside its sibling.
>Holly is shrinking, and the smaller size allows her to wiggle like an earthworm.
>She continues to scream for her legs, shaking so violently that the white foal she births next flies out and lands at the base of the wall.
>You are completely dumbfounded by this point, and can't make yourself intervene.
>One more purple foal emerges, and Holly is back to her regular size.
>Desperate to restore order, you grab her again and turn her to show her her children.
“Look! Look at your babies!”
>Three of the foals are weakly hugging each other, shivering and squeaking loudly.
>The white one near the wall is trying to hug it, licking the paint as it searches for a nipple.
>Holly stares in amazement at her spawn.
>You can feel her body relax.
>phew.odt
>And then she wiggles out of your grip, inching her way towards the group of three foals.
>You smile, but it becomes apparent fast that there is malice in her fluffy heart.
>“DEY HAF HOWWY WEGGIES! HOWWY GET DEM BACK!” she roars.
>You punt her away into a corner and scoop up all the foals, placing them on the couch.
>All they can do is huddle together and squeak loudly in terror as their mother screams at them.
>Since you don't have any fluffy-related equipment, you can't reset Holly yourself.
>Hell, even if you did, you don't know how.
>You have no choice but to call your neighbor and pray his phone is on.
>While you do, you look over the scene.
>Scared fluffy unicorn in the corner which is now shitting herself.
>Screaming, bloody earth fluffy shrieking at her kids because she thinks they took her legs.
>Slimy, squeaky foals sliding around and leaving god knows what kind of fluids on your leather couch.
>No wonder people abuse these fucking things.