- >It is necessary that you keep these fluffies as calm as possible.
- >Since their stomachs are already distended, they are a threat.
- >If they become agitated and begin running around, a few may get out into the city.
- >You must kill them in the least traumatic way you can.
- >Thus, the bag of treats. These aren't the treats they sell at stores, though.
- >These are the things they use to humanely euthanize fluffy ponies at vets.
- >Since fluffies are notoriously terrified of needles, they get these yummy death sentences instead.
- >They contain enough pentabarbitol to wreak havoc on the fragile fluffy nervous system.
- >”New fwiend haf nummies!” one shouts.
- >The herd wobbles over to you as fast as they can.
- >You now notice that some of the fluffies have injuries.
- >Some of them limp visibly, others have one eye, or one ear, or even no ears.
- >Some are missing fluff in various places, and a few only have one or two legs.
- >A sizable amount of other fluffies are wearing collars with tags.
- >Lost strays.
- >It's too late for them now.
- >”New fwiend, can haf nummies pwease?” a fluffy green unicorn asks, pawing at your legs.
- “Of course.”
- >You have a seat on the dirt, opening the bag.
- >You hand out treats, one at a time, to the fluffies that approach.
- >”Yummy nummies!” they bleat.
- >This encourages more fluffies to come over, including injured ones.
- >”P-pwease no huwt fwuffy,” a pinkish pegasus missing one of her wings begs. “Jus' wan' nummies fo' tummy...”
- >You pat her gently on the head and smile while feeding her the deadly delicacy.
- >A collared yellow unicorn stray comes up next.
- >“Am hung'y an' miss daddy, new fwiend take to daddy?”
- “Sure I will.”
- >”New fwiend hewp fwuffy!” he cheers, hugging you as tight as he can.
- >You feed him a treat and send him on his way.
- >”New fwiend no huwt fwuffy?” a blue earth fluffy with one eye asks. “Gif nummies? Wuv fwuffy?”
- >You pet him gently as he eats his last meal, reassuring him that you won't hurt him.
- >Fluffies come over one at a time.
- >They speak to you about being hungry, about not wanting to be hurt.
- >They miss their daddies and mommies, they miss the other fluffies in the houses they once occupied.
- >”Why sweepy? New fwiend gif nummies!” you hear behind you.
- >A brown pegasus nudges the dying green unicorn you fed first.
- >His breathing is so slow, the pegasus thinks he's napping.
- >Even as you continue feeding the patient, jabbering fluffies, their friends begin to fall around them.
- >”Wha? Why nappies now?”, “Fwiend sweepy!”, “Huggies sweepy fwiend!”
- >You receive more hugs during the next hour from fluffies than you have in the previous six months.
- >They bleat how much they love you for being nice, for giving them a toy, for feeding them.
- >They reward your kindness with licks, and nuzzles, and embraces.
- >You reward their trust with death.
- >Soon, over three-quarters of their number lie comatose and dying.
- >The remaining twenty-five or so are beginning to get nervous.
- >”Why fwiend no wan' huggies?” they begin to ask.
- >It takes more urging to get them to eat.
- “They're tired, let them sleep. Come get a treat.”
- >After some work, you're down to five less than willing fluffies.
- >”Am scawed, fwiends take big nappies, fwuffy no wan' take big nappies...” a dark red pegasus says.
- >He understands what is happening.
- >”Big nappies? Wha dat?” a purple unicorn asks, just after gulping down the treat you finally convinced her to take.
- >You reach into the bag and realize you've got a serious problem: you're out of treats.
- >Oh well, there are only four fluffies left.
- >You'll have to off them the old-fashioned way.
- >You stand up and walk over to the nervous red pegasus.
- >”No wan' big nappies, new fwiend, pwease no gif?” he pleads.
- “I won't.”
- >”Fank you!” he cheers, waddling over to hug your leg.
- >Before he can, you raise that foot and slam it down on his skull, popping it like a melon.
- >Brain matter and fluff cling to your boot as you walk toward the three remaining fluffies.
- >”Nuuuuuuu! Why new fwiend huwt fwuffy?!” they bawl, clinging to each other for comfort.
- >The purple unicorn is feeling the effects of the drugs. Her speech is slurred.
- >”Whaaaaaa...? New fwiiiiiiend huw...huwt? Fwuffy?” she drawls, stumbling around like a drunk.
- >The three fluffies left are too terrified to run.
- >”Pwease no huwt! Pwease no huwt!” they shout at you.
- >You pick them up, one by one, and throw them down on the ground to injure them.
- >Sharp cracks come from their legs as they impact the dirt.
- >They lie on the ground sobbing, trying to drag themselves away from you.
- >Now that they can't get away, you stomp their skulls.
- >You're done here.
- >You start throwing fluffy corpses into the disposal cell while the purple unicorn waddles about, occasionally falling on her side and crying.
- >It's an odd sound, like a regular fluffy pony mewl slowed way down.
- >The tags of the collared strays catch your eye as you toss them in.
- >A yellow pegasus named Lemondrop.
- >A blue unicorn with a whitish mane named Gandalf.
- >A reddish-orange earth fluffy named Sunset.
- >All the tags have phone numbers, addresses.
- >You continue to drop the dead into their mass grave.
- >Was this one a once-beloved family pet that was no longer wanted?
- >Did this one get lost after being scared, and never found its way home?
- >Even though this one had only two legs, did it somehow escape its abusive owner to find a better life?
- >You feel a light thump on the back of your leg.
- >The purple unicorn has expired, tipping against your calf.
- >You throw her in last.
- >As you dust off your hands, you look around.
- >Across from you, a silvery pegasus with yellow eyes and a white mane and tail looks back.
- >Where the hell did it come from?
- >It – she, you quickly learn – begins shrieking. “Munsta! Munsta hewe! Munsta huwt fwuffies! Wun! Wun 'way!”
- >She waddles away at top speed.
- >You look in the direction she's going and see a fuckton of swollen dams, and an equally high number of panicking attendants in the distance.
- >And you're all out of delicious death treats.
- >Shit.

