>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.