Vital research

>be fluffy pony researcher

>you just got a crate of stallions to start a new herd

>four out of thirty had their little testicles ruptured when they were force-packed into the crate by uncaring migrant workers

>five more braindead from heatstroke after being shipped in an unventilated truck trailer with 1,995 other screaming, hyperventilating fur coats

>notbad.jpg

>set those 9 aside for the employee rec room

>quickly take the rest out and hose the rancid waste out of their fur

>bring them into the habitat

>point out the water supply and the mares, order them to get to humping

>fluffies protest "why no foodies?" "wan sketti!" "no wan make speciaw hugs, tummy ouchie"

>judicious use of shockstick 'encourages' them to approach the mares

>most stallions quickly begin humping as instructed

>one, however, is completely diffident toward the mare you single out for him, mumbling so low she can't hear him

>the mare waddles away and you walk in and pick the fluffy up

>"We got a possible." "Okay, table 1's ready."

>you take the fluffy over to a table and shave its entire lower body, prompting cries of "give fwuff! wan' fwuff back!"

>you fit the fluffy with a small set of khaki pants and cinch them up with a tight belt to prevent it from taking them off and then take it back to the pen

>you set it down in front of the mare again and the fluffy once again stares at the ground while mumbling at her

>suddenly spaghetti begins to pour out of the pockets on the fluffy's pants

>the mare squees with delight and runs up to him, causing the flow to intensify

>"Food's on, ya little shits!"

>justasplanned.wav