Electric Butterfree

>be father of 7 year old girl

>she wanted a fluffy pony, you said why not

>worst decision of your life

>it's pink with a white mane, your daughter calls it cupcake

>it still refers to itself as fluffy and you still refer to it as a pile of shit

>thing was a bitch to housebreak, and it never shuts its yapper

>worst of all you can't hurt the damn thing or your daughter would be in tears

>you eventually learn to tolerate the little shit

 

>three months down the road and the damn thing's pregnant, about ready to burst

>how did that even happen

>you've heard what happens if you let nature run its course, a family reunion is coming up next weekend and you don't want to have to deal with *that* on a four hour car ride

>neither do you want to deal with more of the little shits

>so you practice your procedure on a few strays to make sure you don't accidentally kill the damn thing

>you figure out the fluffies are so soft you can force them to go into labor by squeezing them hard enough in the right places

>the day before the reunion, while the little one's off at her friend's house, you take it out to the garage

>you collar it and tie the other end to a leg on your workbench

>you also bust out the nasty old gloves you used on your trial runs

>it babbles incoherently, as always

>You apply pressure just under its ribcage

>it giggles, then shouts in a slightly worried tone, "Uh oh! Bebbehs comin'!"

>Squelch. Out comes a baby blue pegasus with a red mane.

>"Weah bebbeh? Wan' bebbeh!"

>the newborn squirms, it's absolutely filthy. Its wings flutter inconsistently and the only noise it can manage could best be described as a wet, high pitched croak.

>If you weren't used to this already, you'd get sick all over your garage floor.

>You take the filly in your left hand, placing your right index finger and thumb around its head, and twist.

>Crick.

>suddenly you realize shitface had turned to watch. She is mortified. "Nuuu! Don' hurd bebbehs! Don' come oud bebbehs, be safe from munsta!"

>despite her protests, you repeat the process, twice. One was a maroon unicorn, another was a yellow land pony.

>at this point she has closed her eyes, and she is repeating "no" to herself over and over between sobs.

>Sigh.

>You clean up the mess, then whip out a simple contraption you found on a fluffy care website.

>consisting mostly of copper wire and a D-cell, this simple device delivers shocks to fluffies that supposedly resets their memory. Thanks to extensive testing, you've pinned it as non-harmful.

 

>Placing one wire on Assface's left ear, and the other on her right, you complete the circuit and Dumbfuck's desperate sobs become strained screeches.

>After a solid second, you yank the wires away.

>Dickface blinks for a second, then yammers as if nothing happened. "Hewp fwuffy! Wan' pasketti! Gif huggies?"

>crisis_averted.jpg

>two months down the road

>fluffy pony drowns the day before your daughter's class play

>goddamnit