"Bestest Mummah Boudica - 2" By fluffstory (https://pastebin.com/u/fluffstory) URL: https://pastebin.com/ruUpRAj4 Created on: Thursday 7th of November 2019 09:07:04 PM CDT Retrieved on: Friday 30 of October 2020 11:24:09 AM UTC Mossiest, October 28, 2019; 11:46 / FB 54963 ======================================================================================================================================= Bestest Mummah Boudica Part 2 Two darkie-times had passed since the loss of Buzzy, and the family had long since adjusted. Boudica's babbehs had since forgotten that they had a wingie sister, but the energetic wingie never left Boudica's mind, and her heart still hurt whenever she thought of her (to her fortune, this became less frequent after a meowy-munstah stole the corpse away in the middle of sleepy-time). She never let her babbehs leave her sight unless they were in their homsie, being held by her, or on her fluff. Dancie was doing what he did best - dancing for his new mummah; he stood on his hind legs, his forelegs alternating between swinging from side-to-side over his torso, to swinging in front of his face, all while hopping from one hind leg to the other. It was the same dance that charmed Boudica so long ago, but rather than begging for shelter, this was an attempt to appease her so he could have some miwkies - he hadn't eaten any real food in a while, and was having bad tummie-hurties. It hadn't gotten him miwkies yet, but he kept trying. Pretty was held by his mummah, somberly watching the dance. He wanted to join his new brother, but his whole body had ouchies - his left hind leg especially - and he constantly complained about feeling cold, even though his Smarty sister kept calling him a dummy because he was warmer than usual. The spot on his hind leg had a not-pretty smell to it, and the last time mummah gave him lickie-cleanies, she complained that it had the worstest taste. The fluff around it was taking extra long to grow back too. Boudica knew full well that Pretty had sickies, and even if she wasn't sure what he was sick with, she had just the prescription to treat it: huggies, wuv, and lots of miwkies. At least, that's what her fluffy brain knew by instinct. She'd had sickies in the past, and she'd gotten plenty of the first two, but there was something else that was just on the tip of her fluffy tongue. So until she could remember, she'd just give him what every babbeh needed to grow big and strong. Miwkies that she didn't have. It'd been a whole bright-time-darkies-time since she had anything to eat. And if she wasn't eating, then she wasn't making miwkies. And no miwkies meant her babbehs had tummy hurties, and that made her a bad mummah. "SMAWTY WAN MIWKIES!" Smarty shouted from behind Boudica, having suckled at her empty teats. "DUMMEH MUMMAH NU HAVE MIWKIES! SMAWTY GIVE SOWWY-HOOFSIES TO DUMMEH MUMMAH!" Her babbeh struck her teats with the worst sorry-hoofsies she could muster - enough force to tickle and make the empty teats jiggle slightly. Boudica sighed. "Sowwy bestest babbeh, buh mummah need nummies to make miwkies. Nee wait fow daddeh to bwing some." "Huuuu hu hu!" Pretty cried from her forelegs, "Pwetty am hungwy! Have wowstest huwties and tummy huwties! Nu wan be sickies nu mowe!" She could only hug her babbeh and take her bestest's feeble hoofsies, patiently waiting for her special-friend to return. Her babbehs weren't the only ones with tummie hurties, but there wasn't any nummies around her. Even the stray blades of grass had long since been devoured. Her heart was wracked with guilt, unable to feed her babbehs like a good mummah should, but she didn't know what to do; she hadn't left the nest unless it was with her special-friend. The only place she knew was the alleyway she spent all her time at. Outside of it was the unknown wilderness of the city, and she'd already lost track of one homesie. She felt lucky her special-friend knew the area so well. Boudica felt a wetness on the side of her fluff. "Dummeh nu-miwkie mummah get sowwy poopies!" Yet again, her bestest was shitting on her in frustration, but at least it wasn't as much last time. The only upside to not having any miwkies was that her babbehs ran out of poopies faster. "Dancie!~" Boudica sang out, "Time to cwean bestest's poopies!~" The green pegasus stopped his dance, a feeling of dread running through his little body. He hesitated for a moment before trotting over, a smugly-satisfied Smarty standing right by a poopie stain on their mummah's blue fluff. Three days was a long time for a weanling to go without food, and he couldn't bear the tummie hurties any longer. Out of desperation, he ate some of his mummah's poopies, and while it tasted awful, it did fill his belly. It wasn't long until the fluffy family found out he was a poopy-nummy babbeh, and since then, it was his duty to keep his family clean. He licked away the shit on his mummah. Smarty's poopies always tasted the worst, but he ate them all the same. He was quick to finish, but the moment he was done, Smarty pointed her poop-stained butt at him. "Poopy babbeh cwean aww da poopies!" He sighed, licking the poop up. After his first lick, a small amount of poop flew out of her butt, hitting him straight in the snout. His small squeal only earned a chuckle from Smarty. "Hehe, dummeh poopie babbeh wan poopies su bad, Smawty gib some mowe!" He had no option but to lick that off too, and it tasted even fouler than anything else she'd pooped out before. "Speshuw-fwiend!" their mother announced, drawing the two small fluffies out of the box to see their pointy daddeh return...with nothing. "Speshuw-fwiend? Wewe am nummies? Babbehs nee miwkies, and Boowica have tummie owwies." "Am sowwy special fwiend. Nu cuwd find nummies again." "DUMMEH DADDEH AM WOWSTEST DADDEH!" Smarty shouted, wasting no time rushing over to her daddeh to give out another set of (not-very) harsh sorry-hoofsies to his leg. Special didn't react at all, instead taking his usual spot next to Boudica. "Is okay, speshuw-fwiend." Boudica nuzzled the side of her special-friend, earning his smile. "Boowica know dat yu am twying hawd." She didn't hold his failure against him at all: any time he found any nummies, he always made sure to bring it to her, and let her eat all of it. She was impressed that he'd gone so long without eating anything, yet his tummie never rumbled. "Buh...babbehs nee miwkies. If dey go tuu wong wiffout miwkies, dey won't gwow big and stwong. Ow...wowse." She looked at Pretty, who was still in her forelegs, shivering. And then at Smarty, whose (un)brutal assault on her daddeh was slowing down. Both needed miwkies badly - Pretty to get better, and Smarty to be a strong bestest babbeh. Both were looking a little smaller than the bright-time before...a good mummah made sure her babbehs grew, not get smaller! Her eyes went back to Dancie, who sat back by the dumpster, moping about not having any good nummies and not wanting to be a poopy-babbeh. The babbeh that she let in when food and miwkies were plentiful. The babbeh that wasn't actually her babbeh, and never smelled like hers no matter how long he was with them. The babbeh that was bigger than the rest, and would do anything to try and make her happy. Who had such a nice taste when she gave him lickie-cleanies... Her special-friend was quick to notice the tear in her eye, and the rumble in her tummy. "Speshuw-fwiend; daddeh have idea fow nummies." He stood up (which prompted the angry Smarty to end her sorry-hoofsies and walk to her mummah's embrace by Pretty). "Dancie babbeh. Daddeh kno where to fine nummies." "Yuu du?!" Dancie asked, shocked. "Yes. In pwace that daddeh nu can weach. Is too smaw fow big fwuffy, buh Dancie babbeh can fit an get nummies. Da bestest nummies! Wiww Dancie babbeh hewp famiwy?" A look of absolute delight touched the whole family. Dancie stood back up, legs still shaky from exhaustion after his dance routine, yet invigorated. "Yes! Yes! Dancie wan get bestest nummnies! Dancie wan make mummah and daddeh happeh!" If he could help, maybe he wouldn't have to eat poopies anymore. Maybe he could even get miwkies! "Okay! Den fowwow daddeh!" A reinvigorated Dancie nodded. Even if it meant going out into the unknown not-nesties wilderness, he'd accept his quest - and it helped that his daddeh was guiding him there. He looked over at his mummah one last time, who looked the happiest she'd ever been. "Bwing bak the bestest nummies, Dancie!" she called out. He giggled in delight. He could already taste the delicious miwkies. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Of course, his body remembered how tired he was from his dancing - and the initial delight that fueled him ran out quickly. "How much wonger, daddeh?" His weggies were sore, and his hoofsies felt raw from walking on the meanie-ground for so long. "Weggies have huwties. Awe nummies cwose?" They hadn't actually gone that far. They'd only walked around the block of their nestie. But for him, it felt like they'd trekked halfway across the world, and he was beginning to dread the thought of walking all the way back. "Can Dancie wide on daddeh?" "Nu. Am awmost thewe." Special's quick reply disappointed the weanling, but he soldiered on. Across the black rockies, into another alley. He felt like his feet were tearing apart, but he kept on moving. "Awwight. We am hewe." Dancie collapsed, glad to finally get a moment's rest. His breathing was heavy, and he felt like he couldn't walk another step. He looked around the area, looking for anything that looked like nummies or could hold nummies - but the alleyway looked to be barren. "Daddeh? *haff* Whewe am nummies *haff* spot? Nu see *huff* any." That was until the scent hit his snout. The scent of manna from the heavens, the bestest nummies that could ever exist. His salivary glands kicked into overdrive, his heart raced with absolute delight. He'd never smelled it before, nor had he ever tasted it, but his fluffy instincts told him exactly what he was smelling. He didn't see where it was, but the smell guided his head to the source - a strange metal box implanted into the alley wall. He'd never seen it before, but the delectable scent him there. There was some metal jutting out from the machine - it looked like he could fit in there, but was too small for his daddeh. A picture of a foal was above the slot, with arrows pointing down. He watched his daddeh walk to the machine. Once he got close enough, it started speaking to him - a pre-recorded message that played whenever a fluffy got close enough, though such a concept was beyond any fluffy's understanding. "Wewcome to the doow to skettiwand! Put babbeh in swot, and dey bwing yuu sketties!" "Sketties!" Dancie shouted in delight. Not only would he get sketties, but he'd reach the land of sketties and sauce and warm softness! "Wan gu tu skettiwand! Dancie wan sketties! Dancie wan gib famiwy bestest skettie nummies!" He stood back up, pushing his exhausted body to the limit as he rushed to the open slot. But it was too high for him to reach; no matter how tall he stood on his hind legs, no matter how hard he flapped his wingies, it was beyond reach. And as he tried, the voice repeated the same sentence over and over: "Put babbeh in swot, and dey bwing yuu sketties!" His stamina reached its end, and the baby collapsed once again. Tears dripped from his eyes as he lied flat in defeat. "Huuuuu...nu can *haff* weech skettiwand. Nu can get sketties! Nu *huff* wanna be bad poopeh babbeh anymowe! Wanna be good skettie babbeh!" But that wasn't a problem for long; "Nu wowwy, Dancie babbeh; daddeh am hewe to hewp." His daddeh picked him up with his hoofsies, earning an excited squeal. "Tank yuu daddeh fow gud upsies! Dancie wiww get the bestest sketties evah fow bestest mummah and daddeh and sissy and bruddah!" He eagerly reached out as he was carried ever closer to the slot, and he could barely hold back his anticipation. Once he was high enough to actually see what was inside the slot, all that joy washed away from him, and was replaced with absolute terror - sharp metal teeth awaited him, stained with dried blood and a few stray strands of fluff caught between the blades. "DADDEH! NU! BAD UPSIES! NU AM SKETTIWAND! AM SCAWY MUNSTAH-" Special didn't care, and pushed him into the metal slot. He'd seen this happen the first time he found this machine. He was drawn by the huu-huu'ing of a feral mummah who had put one of her babbehs in it, desperate to feed her hungry babbehs. He saw it produce the skettis, and was quick to rush her and knock her down, eating it all for himself as her foals cheeped in terror and desperation across the alley ground. When he heard the voice tell him to put in babbehs, he used hers, beating her when she tried to stop him. The sketties were the best he'd ever tasted, and he longed for more of them. He'd consider using one of his own babbehs for this, but he knew Boudica would never allow it. She loved all of her babbehs too much to let them go. She even protected Dancie. The babbeh who was big enough to forage for himself, but refused to. The babbeh who did nothing but try to steal their nummies. The babbeh who was ungrateful that they even let him eat their poopies. She didn't need to know how he got the sketties. But Dancie's reflexes were better than he'd expected; the weanling twisted his body just as he left his daddeh's grasp, and had just barely managed to hook his forelegs onto the the top of the slot. The metal dug in, and the weanling struggled to pull himself up - but his leggies had no more energy to spare. "SCREEEEEE" he shouted, in pain and terror, in full knowledge of what would happen if he fell in. "DADDEH! HEWP! NU WET METAW MUNSTAH EAT DANCIE BABBEH! NU WAN FOWEVAH SWEEPIES!" Special grabbed one of Dancie's forelegs, lifted it from the metal - and pushed it in the slot. "NUUUU! WHY, DADDEH?! DANCIE ONWY GIB BESTEST DANCIES AND HUGGIES AND WU-" His other foreleg was pushed back, and his body slid down into the slot, banging against the metal as he descended. One last elongated "SCREEEEEEEEEEE" rang from the weanling's lungs as the metal teeth ground him apart, but he was drowned out by a happy jingle from the machine. "Yuu awe the bestest pawent evah!" it told him - the same thing it told him before. "Babbeh awweady found sketties!" Some strange noises came from the machine as it processed the shredded babbeh, and in just a few short moments, sketties plopped out from a tube, more than he'd ever gotten from that other mummah's babbehs. Special didn't even consider the true source of all the skettie. Nor did he care about the strands of green fluff mixed in. Nor could he read the sign warning people that the "skettie" was laced with a sterilizing agent. All he saw before him was a pile of skettie as big as Dancie, and couldn't resist taking a few bites out of it. He didn't get very far, though, only taking those few bites. He'd remembered that he needed to bring the sketties to Boudica so she could make miwkies for his actual babbehs. Besides, he wasn't sure he could eat any more. He'd eaten so many nummies and sketties today that if he ate any more, his tummy might burst.