*minor head cannon alert* I like to think of fluffies teeth the same as a small childs, enough so when they bite you you go “ahh hey!” and may sometimes break skin if lucky
>you are Rick
>you and Hans are returning from another roundup mission
>only about ten of them and Hans found none of them useful
>you get out of you car and walk to the back
>well I’ll be, one of em is alive
>a fluffy is moaning and sobbing softly due to the pin its just been through
>when none were found useful you cut up a rope into 10 pieces, about two feet long each
>you then tied rope to each fluffy, around the neck, back leg, tail, wherever
>and drove back
>the smarty was tied up by the neck and his bodies still there, but with missing legs and his eyes look like theyre about to pop out of his head
>otherwise there’s random tails, legs and heads still on some of the ropes, though some ropes are empty
>the one who survived was tied up by the tail and youre surprised he stayed on, let alone survived
>”tummy huwt, weggies huwt so bad hu hu hu huuuuuuu” it sobs
>and it should, the fluff and most of the skin has been ripped off of its legs, its stomach has been ripped open and it looks like its guts dragged a quarter mile if not more
>it turns to look at you with tears in its eyes “pwease hewp fwuffy, make huwties go ‘way”
“sure, you earned it” you say picking him up by the head and slamming it into the back of your van
>with a audible crack and blood splattered across the back door the body goes limp and you toss it like a football (‘merican style) as far as you can
>once inside Hans informs you its time to wean an order
>you head in the breeding room and immediately the mares start to murmur to their foals and hide them behind them
>you read the clipboards below the cages and find the order
>a lime green fluffy with a green mane, customer named it “Martini”
>Hans thought that was the best damn thing since Jesus in a can but you don’t see how anyone could love these shit stains
>you reach in for the foal when the mother immediately reacts
>”No! You no take away babbehs again bad man!” she says puffing her cheeks
“give me the foal and you don’t get hurt”
>you reach for the foal again and the mare bites your finger*
“ahh! That’s it, I warned you” you grab her by the throat and throw her behind you
>she lands with an “owwies!” on the ground and gets up to paw at your leg “nuuuuuu pwease no huwt babbehs!”
>you reach for your walkie talkie you use for when you and Hans go out gathering, in case you need to divide and conquer
“Hans, I need a foal assessment now”
>Hans walks in and looks at the cage you’re pointing to
>he glances them over and shakes his head “besides Martini I don’t see any use”
“then take him and put him in the order pen”
>Hans pulls the baby from the cage, its little front legs stretching out “mommy, hewp babbeh, heewwwwwwp!!!!”
>”babbeh nuu!” she cries chasing after Hans
>you place a foot on her back, not enough to break anything but enough to pin her and restrict some breathing
“you stay put, I got another plan for you”
>you scoop up the other three foals in one hand and grab the bitch with the other and head towards you “rehab center” in the basement
>you open the hatch and head down the stairs
>using you foaled filled hand you bump on the light switch
>you are immediately greeted with “owwies bwight wight!” “to bwight! To bwight!” why dawk no mo?”
>here is where the bad fluffies are
>some in cages with sandpaper on the bottom, others on in fish tanks with water filled up to where the fluffy has to stand until its punishment is over or otherwise drown, and various other methods
>only fluffies who don’t listen to initial discipline wind up down here, and then there aren’t more than 7-10 down here at a time for no more than a day or two
>but one fluffy has been down here for almost 5 days, you hung him up by his tail from the ceiling so he’s just been hanging out till he calms down
>”pweeease wet fwuffy down.. so hungwy……so thiwsty…..and taiw huwt so baaaaaaaad”
“no” you say as you pass him
>”pweeeeeease!” he bags kicking him legs causing him to bob up and down a little
“don’t do that, only warning”
>he groans and slumps
>now for the reason you came down here
>you place the foals in a cage and the mare in a seprate one
>the cages aren’t too far apart so the mother beats at her cage wall while the foals with their tiny legs reach through the bars towards their mom
>you root through the pil of junk and find what you were looking for
>a metal bowl big enough for a fluffy
>you then take some spare chicken wire and cut it to appropriate proportions
>enough to wrap around the bowl and high enough that a fluffy cant get out
>you put small fiberglass poles to support the mini fence wall and its all done
>first you place the foals in, they take up most of the bottom of the bowl
>next you place the mother in
>”babbehs! Mumma hewe, is safe now”
>”Mumma, why huwty?!” cries one of the foals
>”wha? Mumma no huwty, mumma save babbehs!”
>”mumma huwty! Babbeh huwty!”
>the mare now realizes she is crushing the babies
>”nuuu! Mumma nu mean to!” she cries trying to climb the fence but to no avail
>”no mo ouchies mumma! Babbeh sowwy!” they plead
>”mumma twying! Mumma twying!”
>after about a half a minute of futility she hatches a new plan
>using her nose she tries to scoot her babies out from underneath her one at a time but it takes too long
>”mumma! Huwties mumma! Pwease sa-*crack*”
>you look into the bowl to see that her hoof has finally collapsed his rib cage
>his eyes are wide and blood is seeping out of his mouth
>”babbeh? Babbeh?!” the mother asks giving up on the current foal to investigate the noise
>she nudges the foal with her nose asking it to get up, unaware that she is now smothering a foal with her fluff
>she cant hear it but you see its little back legs kicking frantically until the kicking slows then all together stops
>she looks behind her to see the other foal now motionless and nudges it asking it to get up as well
>upon realizing her two foals deaths she sits on her hindquarters and sobs into her hoofs
>as she sat down though the third and final foal suffered both its siblings fates, of being cryshed till ribs broke with a combo of smothering
“oh no, you killed your foals!”
>she looks up at you with tear soaked eyes “nuu! Muma no huwt babbehs! Am good mumma!”
“good mommas don’t kill their babies, only bad mommas do, and you know what bad mommys get? The sorry ass stick”
>the sorry ass stick is your own custom sorry stick, a wooden ruler with thumb tacks through it and lemon juice for an extra kick
>you pull her out by her tail her legs kicking frantically as she begs for her butts safety
>Holding her under your arm with her ass facing forward you proceed to beat her saying “bad. Mommys. Get. Sorry. Stick” in between swings
>all the fluffys cower in their punishment devices while the fluffy from the ceiling flais with all his might saying “no wike sowwy noises! No wike owwies noises!”
>you the her what sounds like hair ripping followed by a fluffy screaming
>you look over to see ceiling fluffy has fallen to the ground and is running around screaming “why taiw huwt?!”
>you see why, as his tail has ripped off and is dangling from the ceiling
>now only a few tufts of hair are on his tail stub
“I warned you man” you say deciding the mare has had enough and returning the sorry ass stick to its drawer
>you pick up both fluffies and head up stairs and return them to their cages, this job is so rewarding
 
 
>you are spark, an orange fluffy Pegasus with a multi-colored mane or dark red, red, yellow and white
>meanie Rick has returned a fluffy to your pen that has been gone for a long time
>but his tail is missing!
>meanie Rick must have taken it
>but this fluffy was bad, he kept calling meanie rick names when rick could hear him then gave rick sorry poopies
>you warned the fluffy many times not to get the humans angry but he didn’t listen
>he just said “nu cawe! Chestew gif Wick big ouchies an save fwuffies!”
>look how that plan turned out
>you still wish there was some way  you could get back and Rick, get payback for what he did to your herd
>but you cant, youd be risking yourself and your whole pen
>you hate humans but youre not a dummy, theres no way you could win
>you can only keep the fluffies in line as best as you can
>youre no smarty friend, but youre the next best thing these fluffies have
>and a smart fluffies doesn’t get the other fluffies in danger, youre daddy taught you that and he would know, he was the best smarty friend ever