>It's five in the morning, and you're at work early.
>The foals you sorted last night start babbling as you set the litter boxes into their pen.
>They think these boxes contain food.
>”Yay!  Nummies!” they shout.
>You get to work helping a dam birth her foals while they contemplate the litter.
>The sorted foals are completely confused.  Some of them sniff at the boxes.
>You hear a few say “Ewwies, no taste pwetty!”  They've tried to eat the litter.
>These are the sounds of training day.
>About twenty minutes later, you hear the soles of combat boots scraping along the concrete steps.
>Sarah has arrived, her twin unicorns toddling along close behind.
>These unicorns are ultramarine blue, with violet eyes and silver manes and tails.
>Since they're identical, they wear a ribbon on their tails for identification. Shokaku's is white, and Zuikaku's is black.
>”Mommy!  Mommy!  Hewp!  Mista take babehs!  Gif babehs pwease!”
>The dam you just helped to foal, a tan pegasus with auburn mane and tail, tries to get Sarah's attention as she walks past.
>”Mommy!  Mista take Desewt's babehs 'gain!”
>Sarah ignores her cries until she gets her babbling fluffies into the pen.
>”Mommy!”
>”Desert, shut the fuck up.  Only two fluffies here get to call me that, and you're not one of them.”
>Sufficiently cowed, Desert's cries become anxious mumbles.  You return her to her cage.
>While you go about recording the litter info, Sarah issues orders.
>”You have to teach these foals to use litter boxes, all right?”
>The unicorns nod slowly as the foals begin to come over, asking for hugs or play.
>”Zwee show wittle fwuffies how make good poopies?”
>”Yep.  Don't be afraid to kick them around if you have to.”
>They look rather uncomfortable as all the foals crowd around them.
>A few foals try to squirm under them to get milk.
>Those get bucked and waddle away crying.
>”Why mumma huwt fiwwy?!”
>”Not mumma.  Fwuffies wissen Sho-Sho now, show how make good poopies.”
>Sarah leaves, and that's when the fun really starts.
>Zui wanders over to a litter box.  “Wook!”  She strains for a few seconds, then shits.
>”See?  Dis good poopies!  Good poopies mean nummies and huggies!”
>The foals babble happily about food and hugs.
>As usual, some begin to shit where they stand.
>”Cowt make poopies!  Poopies mean nummies!”
>Like a fuzzy blue bullet, Sho waddles over quickly and bucks the offending colt.
>He falls over into the deuce he just dropped.
>”No!  Dat bad poopies!  Bad poopies mean huwt and no huggies!”
>”Owwies!  Why new fwiend huwt cowt?  Cowt sowwy!”
>Sho points a hoof at a litter box nearby.  “Go dere when wan' make poopies!”
>The twin unicorns waddle around, bucking every foal that's shitting in the wrong spot.
>A few of the smarter foals climb into litter boxes and do their business.
>”New fwiend, wike dis?  Dis good poopies?”
>Zui and Sho hug them as they step out of the boxes.  “Fwuffies good!  Make good poopies!”
>You whistle for Steve, then point out the smart foals that are being hugged.
“Those are ready to go, take them up.”
>They cry as they're lifted out of the pens, wanting to stay with their friends.
>Steve assuages them with the statement that smart fluffies like them get spaghetti, which makes them all very happy.
>The foals that are left behind do the crying now.  They're hungry, and spaghetti sounds like nummies.
>”Hung'y!  Pwease gif fiwwy miwkies!”, “Cowt tummy huwt!  Nummies pwease!” they cry.
>The unicorn teachers have none of it, bucking foals that try to suckle them.
>”No!  Not mumma!  No nummies unwess make good poopies!”
>The intelligence level of each foal becomes clearer as the moments pass.
>Some of the foals that got bucked once already try the litter boxes.
>”Make pee-pees!  Fiwwy make good pee-pees?  Pwease no huwt...”
>”Good fwuffy!  Make good pee-pees!”
>Other foals are beginning to get jealous.  “Wan' huggies!  Why mummas no gif?”
>It gets worse when Sho and Zui ignore them.
>”Mummas meanie!  Show dem!” a pink, particularly nasty pegasus filly yells.
>You were wondering when she'd act up.  She's been making trouble in the pegasus pen for a week.
>You watch as she runs over to Zui, raises her tail, and pisses on the unicorn.
>”Show meanie mumma!  Gif huggies to fiwwy now!”
>Zui cries out about the 'smewwy wawa'.  An incensed Sho waddles over and bucks the filly right in the nose.
>”Bad fwuffy!  No nummies!  No huggies!” she shrieks.  The filly curls up and trembles.
>”Fiwwy sowwy!  No huwt!”
>Sho continues to buck her as she shivers on the floor.  “Neva make poopies on fwuffies!  Neva!”
“Shokaku, that's enough.  Get back to teaching.”
>With a pronounced snort, Sho waddles away from the sobbing filly and back to the other foals.
>You pick Zui up to wipe her off.
>”Fank you,” she sniffles.
>You set her back down just as some of the dimmer foals are beginning to shit in the pen again.
>”No!  Bad fwuffies!  Bad poopies!” she yells, running over to buck them.
>The process continues on for another two hours.  
>Slowly, the foals pass their tests and get sent upstairs.
>There are now about ten foals left.  These are the grade-A idiots.
>The pink pegasus filly is among them.  She's shat in the litter box, but you stop Steve from taking her up.
>They mewl incessantly about nummies and huggies, since that's basically the only words they know.
>The twin unicorns are becoming frustrated.  “Why fwuffies no make good poopies?  Fwuffies dumb!” Sho yells.
>They drag the fluffy morons over to the litter boxes by their tails and throw them in.
>Most climb out and shit or piss right beside them.  They get bucked harshly and wail.
>Three actually do something in the boxes, so you send them up.
>The six that are left are either too young to understand, or just plain stupid.
>The unicorns are so pissed, they start bucking the foals even though they aren't doing anything.
>”Fwuffy dumb!  No wuv!  Neva make good poopies!” Zui shrieks.
>Sarah comes down again.  “I'm back, kids.”
>”Mommy!” they bleat, waddling over to meet her.
>She looks at the remaining foals.  “Nine left, huh?  Close enough.”
>You get a confused look when she notices Zuikaku's fluff smells bad.
“The pink one got mad and pissed on her.”
>Sarah glares down at her, causing her to squeak.
>”I'll deal with her in a minute.  Sho, Zui, go upstairs and wait for mommy.”
>They waddle away and up the steps, babbling happily.
“Man, those two are freaky.  How did you train them to do that?”
>”I read online about some guy that reset his unicorn a bunch of times and tried it.  Made it really easy to get them to follow directions,” she replies, snatching the pink foal out of the pen.
>”Owwies!  Fiwwy sowwy!  No huwt fiwwy!”
>”You don't know what sorry is yet, you little cunt.”
>Instead of ending the foal's life here, she heads back to the steps.
>”I'll bring mine back down in a few minutes and try again, so don't throw any of them out yet.”
>You nod at her and she walks up out of sight.  You can barely hear her fluffies cheering, then scolding the foal she has in her hand.
>It's freaky how much they act like their owner sometimes.