TextDownloadMedical Training Part 5 Day 6, After Breakfast: Setting Bones and Amputation When I woke up it felt like I never should have bothered trying to sleep. After PT and a breakfast where I should have had a lot more coffee, we assembled in one of the vehicle bays. Right away I noticed that there were ten positions, each one with three metal boxes on stands and a traffic cone with a letter painted on it. Master Sergeant was there with one of the handlers, a shorter black guy named Washington with a tablet in hand. "TRAINEES! FIND AND STAND NEXT TO THE TRAFFIC CONE WITH YOUR LETTER ON IT." I got to the traffic cone marked "G" and stood at attention. I could hear what sounded like fluffy voices inside the boxes. It was hard to make out what they were saying since they were in metal boxes, but it sounded like weeping and "nu wike dawk pwace" and "am scawed." "THE BOXES NEXT TO YOU ARE DESIGNED TO INFLICT RANDOM INJURIES ON THE LEG BONES OF A FLUFFY PONY." I could just make out the fluffy in the box next to me saying, "wut dat? boks huwt waindwop weggies? nu wan weggie owies!!" "ON MY ORDER, THE HANDLER NEXT TO ME WILL ACTIVATE ALL THIRTY BOXES. YOUR JOB WILL BE TO EVALUATE AND TRIAGE THE FRACTURES ON ALL THREE OF YOUR PONIES." Some of the boxes started rocking back and forth, including the one closest to me. "Wet waindwop go!" it said. "Nu wan weggie owies! Wan out!" "SOME OF THE INJURIES WILL REQUIRE AMPUTATION." More boxes started rocking, and harder, as the fluffies tried to get out. "Nu wan! Wet go! Fwuffy keep weggies! Nu!" "YOU WILL HAVE TWO HOURS TO WORK, SO TAKE YOUR TIME. DOCTOR CHU WILL EVALUATE YOUR PERFORMANCE VIA VIDEO AND AWARD POINTS THIS AFTERNOON." The box next to me started to leak urine. I'd be surprised if the fluffy inside didn't shit itself as well. "Wan out nao! Wet out nao!" Master Sergeant nodded to Washington, who made three taps on the tablet. Motors whirred in all thirty boxes, and then a cacophany of thirty fluffies all screaming SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE along with sickening, wet crunches. Master Sergeant looked pleased. "YOU MAY BEGIN!" Okay: first step, evaluate. I opened the box next to me and was greeted by a blood-curdling "SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE." Inside was a screaming, furious earth mare, strapped to the floor of the container. Three metal bars sticking out of the floor had twisted her right front leg at an unnatural angle, and the bone was sticking out. The box smelled like shit which meant there was a real danger the wound would get septic. Second box had a green pegasus stallion, maybe an adolescent or a runty adult, and he was weeping loudly. "Wy bweak Cwofer's weggies? Cwofer nu huwt anywun. Cwofer gud fwuffy. Huuuu huuuuu." Two metal bars from the sides of the box had crushed his rear legs. One was broken and dislocated. The other looked pulverized and would have to come off. The third box had a blue unicorn mare, which was bawling like an angry toddler. Her injuries were oddly specific. All four of her legs were stretched out and broken at ninety degree angles, and all four were broken clockwise if you looked at them from the top. Basically, the box --- or more to the point, the person who last worked on this box --- had turned her into a living swastika. Real funny. Earth mare had to come first. Her leg could be saved but I had to treat it quickly. Unfortunately she was angrier than a honey badger, and her box kept rocking back and forth, sloshing out piss, shit and blood as she tried to escape. "WET WAINDWOP GO! BAD HOOMIES MAKE OWIES! BAD HOOMIES DUMMIE!" I tried reaching into the box to steady her and she took a nip at me. "WET WAINDWOP GO OW EWSE WAINWDOP MAKE OWIES!" Fuck, I had to get protective gear on. I signaled to the handler, "need gloves." He nodded and brought me a pair of mailed gloves, good enough to keep a fluffy's teeth from puncturing my skin. I had just gotten the first glove on when the Raindrop's box tipped over, spilling all the shit, piss and blood on the floor. God DAMNIT. Washington and I lifted the box, intending to get it back into place. As we lifted it, Raindrop -- which apparently managed to get loose somehow -- let out another deafening SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE as she hung by her bad leg, which was caught on one of the straps. I tried to catch her but instead was stunned and horrified to see her leg tear in two near the shoulder. Her stump was now pumping blood in massive spurts as she made a screaming, bounding run for it on her three useful legs, dragging a trail of blood/piss/shit behind her. Adrenaline is a bitch. Master Sergeant looked furious. "TRAINEE! POLICE THAT FLUFFY!" I ran after the little shit and watched in horror as she dived through a row of boxes, knocking two of them over, spilling more shit and piss on the floor. One fluffy pony wasn't properly secured and landed hard in a fecal puddle. In my attempts to not step on that pony, I tripped and knocked over Chong, who knocked over two more of his boxes. Finally I cornered her in the back, and she turned and hissed at me. "WET WAINDWOP GO NAO!" I made a grab for her and she dashed into an electrical panel. There was a loud POP and everything went dark. Then the panel started glowing. I could smell ozone and burning hair and see flames inside the panel. Then I heard Raindrop screaming SCKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE again as she ran out in flames, and the Doppler effect of her SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE as she ran the length of the bay... ...towards the gasoline cans at the end of the depot. Master Sergeant saw it too. "EVACUATE! EVERYONE OUT!" On my way out I hit the fire suppression button. The alarm blared, just slightly less loudly than Raindrop's SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, signaling that we had twenty seconds before halon flooded the bay. Twelve seconds later we were all out. Eight seconds later we heard the halon system hiss loudly, and the protests of the fluffies as the suffocating gas filled the room. "SCREEEEEEEEEEE!" "Dewdwop no wike noisy cwowd!" "Huwt to bweef!" "Peanut feew dizzy!" "HEEEEWWWP! NO CAN BWEEF!" Eventually the hissing, Raindrop's screams, and the protests, died down. Three minutes after we triggered the alarm, the fire crews entered the bay to inspect the damage. Three minutes after that, one of the crew came out. "Okay folks, there's a real fucking mess in there, so careful where you step, but the fire is out and it's safe to breathe. Smells bad, but it's safe." Master Sergeant bellowed, as he does: "ALRIGHT, ALL YOU MOTHERFUCKERS BACK IN THE BAY." The first thing to hit us as we entered the bay as the unholy stench of the place, worse than anything I smelled in the operating theater. It wasn't just blood and fluffy vomit and shit and piss, it was also the smell of ozone and burned insulation and burned hair and cooked meat. After throwing up I went to inspect the damage to my other fluffies. Both were dead, of course. Clover a hideous expression and bloodshod eyes, like Satan itself choked the life out of him. The formerly living swastika mare, on the other hand, had a just as macabre grimace as if she had laughed herself to death while watching all her enemies crushed by God's own hands. After I finished inspecting the damage, Master Sergeant marched up to me and jabbed a finger in my solar plexus. "THIS IS YOUR GODDAMN FAULT TRAINEE. YOU ALMOST GOT US KILLED AND DESTROYED THIRTY PERFECTLY GOOD FLUFFY PONIES. YOU'RE LUCKY I DON'T COURT MARTIAL YOUR ASS FOR DESTRUCTION OF GOVERNMENT PROPERTY. YOU ARE GOING TO HELP WASHINGTON CLEAN UP THIS FUCKING MESS." He then announced to the room, "ZERO POINTS FOR ALL OF YOU, AND YOU CAN THANK THIS GENIUS RIGHT HERE." Master Sergeant marched out. All the other trainees stared at me. Chong in particular looked pissed. "Thanks a lot, asshole!" he said. "I NEEDED these three points." "IT'S NOT MY GODDAMN FUCKING FAULT!" "Yeah," said another trainee named Lazarian, "well, next time, police your fucking fluffies better." The rest of the trainees walked out, leaving me there with the corpses of the fluffies, the mess on the floor, and Washington. I turned to Washington. "I have no idea what the fuck happened." "I ain't sure neither," he responded, "but if I was you, I'd figure out what I did to piss off Haslett." THAT surprised me. "Haslett? You think he had something to do with it?" "Sure do. He's the one who set up G station. He insisted on it. That's your station, right? G?" "Yeah." "Then it's my bet he sabotaged your ass. I only seen a fluffy escape from one of those boxes one other time, and that's because Haslett thought the trainee was a hugboxing asshole. And he don't like hugboxers one bit." "Hugboxers? You mean people who are soft on fluffies?" "You got it. If I was you, I'd figure out a way to impress him, or your career as an Army Medic is gonna be over." I pondered this we loaded the dead fluffies into the garbage. Bye, Clover with the dislocated legs. Bye, living swastika. Bye Raindrop's leg. I made my way over to the gasoline cans to clean that mess up, and found what was left of Raindrop. She looked like someone tried to cook a naked mole rat over an open fire. I figured that she almost killed us, so she got what she deserved. For two hours after that I mopped the floor and cleaned the boxes while Washington stacked gear and filled out paperwork. It took us three hours to clean up the mess, and it took me two more hours to get the stench out of my skin. Uploader fwufabwuss, August 26, 2016; 20:49 Tags abuse amputation amputations blood fire medical medical_training_series safe stump suffocation Source www.fluffybooru.org/post/view/40994 Locked No Parent None Rating Unknown Comments August 26, 2016; 20:49 - Reply fwufabwuss: I *always* find a typo after the first time I post these stories. August 26, 2016; 21:45 - Reply FaggotRainbow: This is why every fluffy needs to be pillowed. Pillowfluffs are happy fluffs. August 26, 2016; 21:51 - Reply Anonymous1: I see this is getting more interesting. August 27, 2016; 09:55 - Reply Anonymous2: What is it with assholes in the military that get a bug up their ass and sabotage someone else's career? I have friends and family that have been various levels of officer and plain enlisted, and there's so many stories of "yu dun messed with da wrong mofucka, mofucka" August 27, 2016; 09:57 - Reply Jaeger: This was good! August 29, 2016; 19:05 - Reply fwufabwuss: @FaggotRainbow: To my mind it's an extreme form of psychological torture in addition to being physical abuse. That's not to condemn it.... @Anonymous: I sure hope so! @Anonymous: Meritocracy my ass, right? @Jaeger: Thanks, and I really appreciate your continued feedback! August 30, 2016; 17:21 - Reply Anonymous3: Who the hell is Haslett? August 30, 2016; 22:51 - Reply fwufabwuss: @Anonymous: Haslett is one of the handlers in the previous installment. https://www.fluffybooru.org/post/view/40994 September 8, 2016; 03:31 - Reply Anonymous4: What kind of pussy faggot need protection from a fluffy bite?