Damn Sea Fluffies

A short premise: this story has been inspired by the sea fluffy pictures made by Fluffsplosion. You can find them here: fluffsplosion.tumblr.com or on derpibooru.

This is also meant to be a "joke" story in a sense: there are no sea fluffies in my headcanon, so this story is basically an AU ('cause I consider all my other stories to take place in the same universe).

 

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>You actually like fluffies. Even if they’re clearly dumb, they’re cute and they offer good companionship.

>Unfortunately, you live in a cottage on the beach.

>The last five fluffies you owned found their way to the sea and drowned, despite your best efforts to keep them safely inside the house.

>There is, however, a type of fluffy ponies that you utterly despise.

>Sea fluffies.

>Kinda ironic, now that you think about it.

>You can’t even point out why you hate them so much. Maybe it’s because there’s almost always a school of them just in front of your house, and every goddamned time you go to the beach to take a walk or swim a little they come at you babbling, calling you “fwend” or asking for something to eat.

>Sea fluffies cannot live in the open sea, they’d get killed in a couple of seconds while trying to hug a shark. Therefore, they live in the coastal areas, where there’s less chance for them to be eaten by something else.

>The real problem is, however, that sea fluffies are basically fish, and they reproduce through eggs. Meaning that their population can easily – and uncontrollably – balloon.  

>That’s why you usually target pregnant males: being part seahorses, sea fluffies’ eggs are kept in the colts’ belly pouches until they hatch.

>There’s a school of fluffy ponies playing in the shallow sea in front of your house, this morning: splashing themselves, laughing and babbling incoherently.

>There’s maybe fifteen of them. Luckily, there’s also a pregnant male.

>You walk towards them, carrying an empty bucket and some gummy bears, ‘cause they are sucker for candies.

>The moment they see you, they start cheering and jumping out of the water.

“Hewwo fwend! Come pway wif fwuffy, pwease?”

>You smile at them.

“Sure! Actually, I want to be someone’s daddy, today. Who wants me to be his or her daddy?”.

>Predictably, each and every one of those little shits start shouting about “new dahdeh”. A couple of them tries to hug you, but you aren’t close to the water enough.

>You pretend to ponder for a couple of seconds, before pointing to the pregnant male.

“I choose you!”

>The sea colt smiles at you.

“Yippie! Fwuffy dahdeh soon, hooman wuv bahbes?”

>Meanwhile, you are filling the bucket with sea water.

“Yeah, I love babies. Come on, jump in!”.

>The sea fluffy eagerly comply. You toss the gummy bears to the sad, crying school, making sure each and every one of them gets at least one piece of candy.

“Don’t worry, buddies, maybe I’ll adopt one of you next time!”.

>They instantly revert to their usual excited mood and start nibbling on the candies.

“Fank you, nice hooman! Hooman fwend!”.

>You hurry to your front door, the bucket heavy in your hands. The sea fluffy keeps talking about his babies and how much he’ll love them.

>You don’t want to be on the beach when the poison you injected into the gummy bears will start kicking in.

>When you’re finally inside the house, you put down the bucket and grab the sea fluffy. The creature tries to hug you with his front fins and you let him do that, even if he drenches your shirt with sea water.

“Fwuffy wuv dahdeh!”, he chirps.

>Half a minute later, he starts squirming.

“Pwease, dahdeh, fwuffy no can bweave. Put back in wawa”.

“Sure thing, buddy. Here, I’ll show you your new home”.

>There’s a tank in the middle of your living room; it’s big, and it’s placed on a wooden piece of furniture that’s roughly its size. The tank has already been filled with sea water, and you put the grateful sea fluffy inside of it.

“Do you like your new home?”

>He beams at you.

“Fwuffy wuv tank! Fank you!”

>You’re not gonna thank me for long. Believe me.

>You leave the sea colt for a second and go watch from your kitchen window.

>Some of the fluffies are still alive and are thrashing weakly in the water, but the majority of them has already been stranded, forming a row of colorful, dead patches of fluff on the sand.  

>When you go back in your living room, the colt is on the bottom of the tank, the front fins adhering to his prominent belly. He’s humming quietly to his babies… Well, his eggs. Whatever.

>While you smile and wave at him to attract his attention, you use your free hand to slightly rotate a valve installed on the piece of furniture below the aquarium.

>The water level in the tank starts dropping, even if at an imperceptible rate. The fluffy won’t surely notice… until it’s too late, obviously.

“Hey buddy. Are your eggs growing fine?”

>The fluffy swims at you, placing his front fins on the upper edge of the tank and smiling dumbly at you.

“Fwuffy dahdeh vewy soon! Wan’ see bahbes!”

>You keep your happy façade. You’re a really bad actor, but fluffies are too dumb to know the difference.

“I’m sure your foals will be just as good as you are. Now, who wants some seaweeds?”

“Yippie! Fwuffy wuv sea gwassies!”  

>After he finished munching the seaweed, the water level has already dropped at least four inches.  

>The sea fluffy still doesn’t seem to notice, so you turn your TV on and let him see a couple episodes of “Friendship is Magic”; luckily, neither of them is one of those where sea ponies actually appear.

>The second episode ends, and now the tank is only half full.

>Finally, the sea colt understands that something is wrong.

“Dahdeh! Fwuffy no can weach tank bowdew! Need mo’ wawa, pwease!”

>You look at him quizzically.

“That’s the only water I’ve got. What’s happening to the tank?”

>The fluffy looks at you worriedly.

“Fwuffy no know! Wawa go ‘way!”

>You pretend to search for the cause of the problem, walking in circles around the aquarium. Then you suddenly stop and dramatically point your finger at the sea colt.

“I know what’s happening! The water thinks you’re a bad fluffy and it’s going away!”

>The fluffy, predictably, starts panicking and mewling. Maybe he’s also crying, but because he’s underwater you can’t see the tears.

“Nuuuu! Fwuffy no bad! Fwuffy gud! Pwease dahdeh, no wet meanie wawa go ‘way!”

“Sorry, but I can’t! You have to convince water you’re a good fluffy!”

>And he tries. Oh, he tries. He tells the water he’ll give “big owwies”. He pleads the water to be his friend. He asks the water for hugs, he begs it not to go away, he assure it he’s a really good fluffy and a really good daddy.

>It’s all in vain, obviously.

>Twenty minutes later, when the water level is so low that the fluffy can barely stands upright on his tail, he starts lamenting about “big poopies”.

>Bingo.

>Maybe ten seconds later, a stream of underdeveloped, translucent eggs starts pouring from his belly pouch: the stress sent the sea colt in premature labor, effectively killing his spawn.

“Wha’? Bahbes? Dahdeh wuv bahbes!”

>He totally forgot he’s literally inches from dying. He tries to poke at them some of the eggs with his front fins, but they don’t react. The joyous babbling soon becomes sad and dubious.

“Bu’… why bahbes no move? Why no caww dahdeh? Dahdeh gif wuv, gif hugsies and weed!”.

>You pretend to be extremely shocked.

“Oh my God, what have you done? You killed your babies!”.

>The colt looks at you. Initially, he doesn’t seem to understand; but then the truth hit him and his round, blue eyes become empty.

>He lets out a long wail.

“N-nuuuuuuuuuu! Dahdeh wan’ bahbes! Pwease bahbes go back in fwuffy bewwy! Bahbes too wittwe now! Need wawm pwace!”

>You shake your head in disapproval.

“Maybe you really are a bad fluffy, after all. Only bad fluffies kill their babies”.

>You rotate the valve until it’s completely open. The water in the tank is drained in a matter of seconds, leaving the sea colt to finally die.

>With his last breaths, he pathetically tries to push a couple of eggs inside his belly pouch.

“Sowwy bahbes… Dahdeh jus’ wan’ see bahbes… Bu’ dahdeh bad fwuffy… Sowwy…”.

>After he’s dead, you go to the beach with a big trash bag and collect the sea fluffy corpses scattered on the foreshore. Luckily, there’s no other school of fluffies in sight.

>You then go back to your house, toss the sea colt and his eggs inside the bag with his dead friends and start cleaning the tank. You’ll also have to empty the second tank hidden in the piece of furniture, but doing that is always a pain in the ass so you usually procrastinate.

>There are probably more humane ways to kill pregnant sea colts. You could poison them like you do to their brethren, but they could also go into labor for the shock, and if the sea foals are actually ready to be born it would be a mess.

>Also, well… you can safely admit you’re kind of an asshole.

>Next Thursday you go into town, adopt the sweetest and most laid-back unicorn colt you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even try to go outside, and you manage to keep him alive for a whopping eight years and a half.

>Life is beautiful.