"Red Babbeh" By fluffstory (https://pastebin.com/u/fluffstory) URL: https://pastebin.com/ueMtmZLj Created on: Thursday 26th of December 2019 09:28:17 PM CDT Retrieved on: Friday 30 of October 2020 11:21:34 AM UTC Feyascia, June 30, 2015; 15:36 / FB 32295 ======================================================================================================================================= Red Babbeh By Fey **************** There once was a little fluffy foal named Red Babbeh. Red Babbeh lived in an alley between apartment buildings in a small city. He lived there with his whole family: Mummah, Daddeh, and all the bruddas and sissies from his litter. The foals were all "named" after their colors, and Red Babbeh was named for his hot-rod-red fluff. He also had the beginnings of a white tail and mane. The alley they all lived in was fairly narrow, just too small for a scary metal-munstah to fit inside. It was lined on two sides by brick walls with rusted fire escapes, and it was capped in the back by a chainlink fence choked with thorny weeds. Past the thorns (through a small gap in the bottom of the fence) was an open area with lots of sand, some grassies, and strange human toys. The grass could be nummed if there was no other food, but the space often had big, scary humans all around it, so it was not safe to stay in for long. The front of the alley opened up to the sidewalk and the blackrock where the metal-munstahs lived. Nummies-boxies (trashcans) clustered against the walls at the opening of the alley, providing cover from the munstahs and the humans for the family of little ponies. Red's family would spend their days hugging and playing. Once the foals had grown enough to talk and walk, they were given lessons on how to be good fluffies: Poopies go into the poopie box (a storm drain), always be nice to each other, don't let humans see you, good trashy-nummies versus bad trashy-nummies. At night, they would all curl up into a snuggly fluffpile in the family nestie. Their nest was made up of fluff, package filling, and discarded cloth scraps stuffed into a rusted, stripped-out electrical enclosure towards the back of the alley. Red Babbeh had everything he could possibly want in life. Or so he thought. **************** *Plonk* *Clatter* *Crash!* A flimsy metal lid fell off one the nummie-boxes and smacked hard against the concrete floor of the alleyway. The foals all looked up from their game of hidey-tag, their eyes wide in fear at the scary noise. "Psssst!~ Babbehs!~ Come hidey~" Their father's hush voice reached out to them, and most of the foals walked and stumbled back towards their nestie. Red, however, stayed behind. He could see no munstahs, and the scary ringing noise of the metal lid had died down; all was again as still and calm as before the loud noise. Despite the desperate whispers of his cautious father, the little pegasus approached the fallen lid. "Yu nu scawe babbehs! Scawies am bad fo' babbehs!" Red boldly puffed out his cheeks and stamped a tiny hoofie on the ground. "Yu nu be bad!" There was a slight movement from behind the lid, and Red tensed. Was there a munstah that he hadn't see? Was he now doomed to suffer biggest nose bops and other, even worser hurties? Out from behind the fallen lid, a little red bouncy ball rolled into sight. Red's eyes grew even bigger than when the loud noise had spooked him. Never before had Red beheld such a majestic shape. It had no edges, just one forever-long curve, or was it forever-many overlapping curves? There were no sides; no up, no down, no left or right, no front or back. No matter how this object moved, it would remain forever the same. Move? Yes...move. This was a thing that needed to move. Deaf to his father's increasingly loud and angry instructions, Red walked forward and bopped the red thing with his hoofie. The ball rolled forward, bounced off of a small rock, rebounded off of the trashcan, and then pattered back to Red Babbeh's hoofies with a singular grace. Red's eyes lit up like he had just had milkies for the first time. "B-b-baww..." Red began to giggle in earnest and smack the ball around, chasing it as it bounced around the alley. His siblings now wiggled against their mother's protective embrace. With no further signs of danger, she soon relented, and all her little foals stumbled off to join their brother in the fun. Mother and father watched from the nest, hugging each other tightly. Wawas matted down their cheeks as they cried for their great fortune. Their babbehs had a real toy to play with. **************** Time passed, and the foals grew to be big babbehs. They could now num big fluffy nummies, but they still got a Mummah's milkies while she kept producing. While his siblings preferred a variety of games, Red would play with the ball every playtime. Even during "gud-fwuffies-teachies-time"s, Red Babbeh would bring the ball along with him and bat it between his forehooves as he listened to his parents' lessons. Red would hug the ball with one arm during the sleepytime fluffpiles. Red Babbeh was the best at playing with the ball! He could bat it with any of his four hooves; he could push it along while running at full fluffy speed; he could even roll over the ball then suddenly kick it backwards. Red babbeh was so good at playing with the ball that he could bounce it off a wall and have it bounce right back to him almost half of the time! He tried to teach his tricks to his bruddas and sissies, but they never caught. All they would ever want to do with the ball is chase it or push it to each other. They held motion in physical form, and they wasted it. Red tried to make up new games for them to play. The first was keep-way. He explained it as being like huggie-tag, except that everyone who didn't have the ball was it. The game soon devolved into multiple rounds of actual huggie-tag. His next attempt was ball-to-the-wall, where the goal was to kick the ball to one wall while other babbehs tried to kick it to the other wall. Even going one-against-all, Red easily weaved the ball between his siblings and scored time after time. His siblings soon began to cry about "meanie bruddah" who wouldn't let them play with their ball. "Wed Babbeh!" His mother called out. "Nu be mean tu odah babbehs! Meanies nu am gud fo' babbehs." Red Babbeh turned towards the nestie and puffed his cheeks briefly. "Wed nu am meanies, Mummah! Odah babbehs bad at baww. Wed twy pway wif. Odah babbehs nu pway wight!" "Huuuhuuhuu", cried Yellow Babbeh, a pointy colt. "Meaniest bwuddah! Yewwow gud at baww! Wuv baww! Wuv pushies an' chasies." Red turned his head to Yellow and blew a big, wet raspberry. "Dose am dummeh games fo' dummeh fwuffies. Dummeh games bad fo' bestest baww." At being called dummies, all of the other babbehs joined Yellow in huuhuuhuu-ing. Red let out an exasperated sigh, but it stuck in his throat when a terrifying sound chilled him to his very core. "WITTWE WED WINGIE COWT!" the mother shouted with a determinedly even tone. All the other babbehs winced, pausing in mid-cry just from hearing the cadence of the full-name-mummah-call. Red could barely stop from wetting himself, much less remember to breath. He started to feel light headed until Mummah spoke again and broke the spell. "Wed Babbeh! Yu gu make gud poopies nao. Yu am gu tu sowwies boxie tiww nummies time." Red gasped. "Nu wan! Nu faiw! Sowwies boxie am wowstest ting! Nu wan stuck in sowwies boxie!" Red Babbeh whined and stomped his hoofies on the ground. His mother shot him a glare that could trim sideburns. "Yu wan make dat tu sweepies time? 'Cus Mummah can du dat. Mummah wet yu sweepies in sowwies boxie if dat what yu wan, jus tawkies 'gain." Red Babbeh grumbled to himself but dared not tempt fate by speaking loudly. He kicked the ball against the wall (bouncing it right to Yellow's side), went to the grate to make gud poopies and gud peepees, and then shuffled his way over to his mother. Red got a light bop on the nose. "Dat fo tawkies back tu Mummah. Nu du dat. Nu be bad babbeh." Red winced, both from the mild nosie pain and the "bad babbeh" admonishment. He said nothing, though, and Mummah picked him up in her mouth and carried him over to the sorry box. The family's sorry box was a small plastic container that had been scavenged some time ago. It was now stowed in the back corner of the metal "burrow", where it was used as an emergency poopies box when the weather was too cold or wet for the family to safely waddle to the storm drain. Even though it was given cleanings from light rains and with scraps of paper found in the trash, the box was cursed with an eternal smell of poop and a slick layer of grime. Laying down to rest or to cover one's nose caused the greasy mess to seep into one's belly fluff in an intolerable, sickening way. The walls of the box were too high to climb over, as unruly babbehs found out shortly before falling and squelching their backs into the filth below. More than one babbeh had ended its internment covered in waste, urine, and its own vomit. It was quite an effective sorry box. Red Babbeh shivered as he was lowered into the tiny prison. He tried to balance himself as he was set down, but his front hoofies started to slip in the muck. They flung out to either side of him, and Red landed on his chin. **************** And so things went for some time. Red Babbeh would play with the ball, mastering his skills. His siblings would sometimes play with him, often invoking his frustration at their lack of focus. Then feelings would get hurt, and Red would receive another stint in the sorry box, a telling off from his parents, or a big bop to the nose. Not that the others were perfectly behaved. They were just foals after all, but Red was undoubtedly the most rambunctious of the crew. **************** One overcast day, Red Babbeh was standing about the nummies-boxies. He had found a scrap of pizza-trashie-nummies that had fallen out, and he was happily munching down on it. His siblings were back near the nest, playing with the ball, and it was much easier for him not to watch as the other weanlings bumbled and tumbled after the family toy. Mummah was back by the fence, hugging her tummy and singing. Mummah was a soon-mummah again! She wasn't showing it much, but Mummah knew that she had more bestest tummeh-babbehs. Red was hoping that his new siblings would be better at ball. Daddeh travelled to the grassy area and back, happily gathering grassie-nummies and flower-nummies for the expecting mother. While there were plenty of yummy trashie-nummies for the whole family, everyone knows that grassie-nummies and flower-nummies are the best nummies for tummy-babbehs and for making good milkies. The space under the fence was narrow, and the thicket around it deep and filled with sharp thorns, but the volume of a fluffy's fluff would protect it from the worst of the ouchies. Red Babbeh had eaten half his fill when a strange sound caught his attention. The sound was soft and light, almost joyful. It was getting closer. The ringing sound chimed louder and louder. Red Babbeh lifted his head up, looking curiously in the direction of the sound. What he soon saw shocked him. A little ball jingled into view. It was bigger than the family ball and made of a patchwork with more colors than Red had siblings. It looked soft and a little lopsided, but it rolled all the same. "...Baww?" Then the kitty-munstahs burst into view, batting at the ball and hissing dispassionately at each other. They kicked the jingling ball around on the sidewalk for a long, breathless moment then smacked it past the nummies-boxies and into the alley. The kitty-munstahs pounced after the ball, invading Red's home. The two cats stopped abruptly upon seeing the fluffies. They arched their backs up and locked eyes with the parents in the back. The fluffies, big and small, all froze completely still. Only their eyes showed any motion as they grew to the size of saucers. They all stood there for many forevers; tiny, furry statues carved into battle stances. The spell was broken when one of Red's siblings released its bladder in fear, and the splash of the trickling stream against cement attracted the feline's attentions away from the larger targets. The cats crouched low and slinked towards the loose group of foals. "Nuuuu, Babbehs!" The mother cried out. "Babbehs wun 'way! Wun tu mummah! Pwease nu huwties fo' babbehs!" The mother sunk to the ground, helpless. Her maternal instincts wouldn't let her put her tummy babbehs in danger by rushing over. "Huuhuuhuu... Huwties am bad fo' wittwe babbehs..." The father wiggled to free himself of the briar patch. He was determined to face these invaders and protect both their tummeh-babbehs and their nao-babbehs. He had barely pulled himself halfway out before the sickening screech of a munstah filled the alley. A third kitty-munstah, its coat a uniform midnight-black, had charged into the alley. It attacked the plush ball and hit it against one of the walls. The other kitty-munstahs perked up at the ball's jingles, and all three were soon tussling with each other for control of the toy. One of them gave the ball a mighty smack, and it bounced off a trash can to land inches from Red Babbeh's hidie spot amongst the nummies-boxies. The cats crouched low, staring down the ball, preparing to pounce. "Huuhuuhuu! Nu wan be munstah-nummieeheeheeees!" Yellow baby had shaken off his paralysis and was making a beeline for his mother. One feline made a side-pounce towards its new, moving target. The other babbehs now had the impetus to flee at full waddle, but that quickly attracted the attention of the other two munstahs. The three felines crouched low again, stalking after the fascinating balls of fluff which move and make noise all on their own. One of the babbehs tripped and scraped its knee on the rough ground. "Screeeeeee!" It fell to its side, crying and attempting to hug its own front leg. "Huuhuuhuu! Babbeh haf biggest huwties! Nee' huggies! Nee' wuvs! Mummah! Daddeh! Huuuuuuu!!!" The screech of the injured foal gave its pursuers a brief pause. The father freed himself from the gap in the fence and charged forward to shield his child, but the felines were on the move again. There was no way he could reach the fallen babbeh in time. A claw-studded paw reached out for the unaware foal. *Jingle* *Jingle Jingle* The kitty munstahs all turned their heads back towards the entrance of the alley. There, between two trashcans, Red Babbeh had a hoofie on the jingle ball. He was rolling it back and forth to make it sound out. *Jingle Jingle* The kitty-munstahs looked to the nearby, whimpering foal and then back to the siren jingling of their toy. They wavered on which target to pursue until Red started to kick the ball against the side of the trash can. *Pomf! Jingle Jingle Jingle* *Pomf! Jingle Jingle Jingle* *Pomf! Jingle Jingle Jingle* The cats could no longer contain themselves, and they leaped out towards the jingle toy. Red Babbeh kicked the ball deeper into the cluster of nummies-boxies and quickly followed after it. There was a heavy crash behind him followed by a short screech, but he didn't look back. Red just kept kicking the ball forward, weaving it between the walls of the tightly-packed nummies-boxies. Sometimes he would hear a scraping sound or see a paw reaching between the cans, and he would deftly lead the ball down another path. "Wed Babbeh!" He could hear his mother shouting. "Wed Babbeh wun 'way fwom munstahs! Too scawy! Nu am time fo' pway!! Come hidies!" Red directed the jingling ball towards a cat-free exit of the labyrinth. He could see his parents; daddeh had the injured sibling in his mouth, and mummah was directing the others past the fence, one-by-one. Red was panting hard, but he still gave them the biggest grin. "Famiwy hidies! Wed Babbeh am keep munstahs 'way!" Red yipped as a kitty-munstah rounded the corner and ran at him. He kicked the ball back behind himself *Jingle Jingle* and turned to follow. Searing pain suddenly tore through Red's side. The kitty-munstah had swiped him, imbedding a claw in his thigh. Red didn't stop. He kept on running, tearing a jagged line through his skin as he pulled himself away. It hurt worse than anything, and Red could feel the warmth of his booboo juice leaking out onto his thigh, but he never stopped running. Red Babbeh just focused on the ball and pushed through the pain. Red managed to keep the kitty-munstahs occupied for a while longer until there was a great crash and the whole world was thrown sideways. One of the cats had crashed hard into a trashcan, knocking it over and bringing down the whole clump like dominoes. Red Babbeh and the jingling ball were knocked out onto the sidewalk by the scattering debris. Red shook his head clear and looked up. The munstahs looked back at him and crouched down to pounce. Red took off running again, kicking the ball out in front of him. He lead the kitty munstahs down the sidewalk, away from his family's home. Red knew that no fluffy could beat him at ball. Red knew that it was no fluffy that now chased him down the block. Red still grinned, even as the black paw came down on his head. **************** *Months later* A young domestic fluffy was playing in the front yard as his owner sunbathed; a soft breeze blew through the fluffy's white fluff and cerulean mane and tail. The little wingie floof had a bright red ball to play with. He would kick it forward, giggle to himself, and then scamper over to kick it again. He gave the ball a reeeally good kick, and it rolled off the grassies, past the sidewalk, and onto the blackrock. He was proud of his kick, but now he had to go get his ball back. He wasn't supposed to leave the grassies, though. ...He would be right back, so it was probably alright. Just this once. The fluffy hustled towards the ball, calling out to it. "Come back fo' pway, baww! Nu can pway on bwackwockies!" The fluffy was just about to step off the sidewalk to go around to give the ball a push, when the ball suddenly launched into the air and bounced off of his face. It paffed down onto the grass. "Owwies!" The fluffy yelled, laying down on the sidewalk to hug his sensitive nose. "Why huwt Bwinkie? Bwinkie am gud fwu-" A roar shook the air. The fluffy's vision flashed black. The wheel of a metal-munstah had zoomed past, hardly inches from his nose. "Huuuuhuuuuhuuuu!" The colt covered his eyes and pissed the sidewalk. "Bwinkie sowwy fo' be bad! Pwease nu fowevah sweepieeheeheeees!" "Dummeh fwuffy!" A wingie-friend weanling with slick red fluff and a white racing-stripe mane and tail stood in front of the penitent fluffy. He had one forehoof holding down a shiny red ball, and there was a lighting-shaped scar on his flank. "Nu pway baww on bwackwockies! Bwackwockies am bad fo' baww an' fo' fwuffies! Pway on yu nice gwassies!" "Huuuuu... Bwinkie am su sowwies. Neba du 'gain!" "Hmmm. You weawwy am sowwies?" "Yus! Yus! Sowwiest sowwies! Huuuhuuu..." "...Otay. Yu wearn wesson. Yu am gud fwuffy nao." The grounded fluffy sniffs sadly. "An' dat wus a weeeawwy gud kickies! Keep pwayin', and yu get weawwy weawwy gud at baww! Jus' stay on yu gwassies, otay?" "Otay. Tank yu. ...Nyu fwi-" Blinkie finally uncovered his eyes, but he couldn't find the other fluffy, who should have been standing right in front of him. He tried to listen, but all he could hear was a faint jingling move past him. ... "Nu smeww pwetties." The colt moved back to the yard. He wiped his piss-soaked fluff against the soft grassies then ran back over to play with his ball.