Raising_Biscuit Raising_Biscuit_Hugbox_Route Wan_wub_Acid cleaning fluff_mart fluffmart foal foals good_owner herdking_tribute hugbox pillow-fluff pillowfluff poopie_babbeh sadbox sorry_stick unloved unwanted


*************Part 3***************

(Disclaimer, I’ve tried my best with the formatting but it seems to be off, hopefully this works.

“Biscquit wub nyu Daddeh, nyu Daddeh wub Biscquit!” chirped Biscuit, happily snuggling into your coat pocket as you follow Tom. You reach your right hand up and pet him on the head, running your hands through his thin red mane and scratching his beneath his ears. He coos softly, closing his eyes and enjoying your warmth as you do so. So whole and pure, you think to yourself.

“You’re in luck today sir,” remarked Tom as you come upon a clean, white table in the middle of the store. Stacked neatly to the side was a set of surgical tools. “We have an online customer who requested the full suite of options for his new mare, removing her legs and turning her into a pillow fluff, neutering, tail removal, mane removal, teeth and tongue customization or removal, accessory implants, so we can show you just how you can customize your little Biscuit! Just a moment, let me grab Holiday for you.”

You get a sinking feeling in your stomach as he lists off each of the options, with the exception of neutering. That seems a bit extreme, these were living creatures that seemed to understand pain, even if they were called biotoys.

“Ah, I think, maybe just fixing him, I’m not sure if...” You start to reply, but Tom had already briskly made his way out of earshot to the back of the store.

“Daddeh,” Biscuit begins, turning his head around to look at you with his soft chocolate eyes. “Bisquit dun stand, wat do daddeh mean by fixin? Biscquit am nu broken, now hab bestest hoomin Daddeh!”

“Ah…” You stammer, trying to articulate it to Biscuit as euphemistically as you could “well, it would mean uh…that you would…”

Damn it, you do not have to explain to a dog or a cat that you’re going to cut his balls off because you can’t have him having puppies or kittens everywhere….

Thankfully, Tom arrived back before you had to break the news to Biscuit, carrying a small carrier with a towel draped over it. Plopping it on the table, he nods at you.

“Ideally, you want to put a towel over their carrier, it makes them feel more safe when you are transporting them and don’t want to have to hold them.” He said. “Now Holiday, put on a good show for the nice mistah…”

What the actual fuck?

What he pulled out from the carrier was nothing short of an abomination, at least to you. It was, in theory, still a fluffy mare, but more like a Frankensteinen monster. It had no legs, no tail, a pink coat with glitter thrown all over it that had a conspicuous streak of naked flesh where the mane had once been, and what looked to be like an ornamental Christmas star surgically grafted to her forehead where a unicorn’s horn might have gone. All along her body were other various holiday ornaments, little hearts surgically grafted onto her legs, an American flag squarely stuck into her back, skulls for halloween near her butt and along her thighs, and worst of all, a plastic turkey sticking out where “special huggies” were supposed to take place.

“Screeee! Daddeh wook! IS MUNSTAH fwuffy! Biscquit no wan be nummie babbeh!” Biscuit howled, frantically turning his head away from Holiday and burying himself as deep as he could into your pocket. You could also hear a bit of dripping and a splurrrrttt from within the pocket.

Shit, you better not have gone to the bathroom in there...on the other hand I don’t really blame you.

Holiday looked up at you with purple eyes of pure suffering, as if she wanted you to kill her right then and there. Jesus Christ.

“Say hi to the nice mister, Holiday,” Tom said, coaxing her to talk. When the mare just gave a muttered response, but did not speak, Tom frowned. “I said to say hi to the nice mister!”

“Uh, that’s not really necessary, I think I get the pict-”

“One moment, sir, something is off.”

You think?

“Why won’t you say hi?” Tom asked again. Holiday tried to squirm her way back into the cage, without avail. “Your owner opted for teeth customization, not removal, maybe something went wrong, open up your mouth now…”

The mare frantically shook her head, trying to resist Tom, but was easily subdued.

“Really it’s okay if-”

“Aha!” Tom exclaimed, forcing open the mouth.


To your astonishment, a small, puke green ball of fluff fell from the inside her mouth, landing on the pristine white table covered in saliva. It was a small colt, smaller than even Biscuit, coughing and chirping frantically after landing on his back.

“Huhuhu…Acyd wisten to mummah an hol breath an be still…bu am stickies…chirp” rubbing his eyelids with his paws, he then opened his emerald eyes and looked at you. “Nyce mistah hoomin? Give huggies, wub, and wots of milkies? Peep!”

“God damn it, Wendy!” you hear Tom rage under his breath as he clenched his fists, “You were supposed to make sure she was not hiding any of her foals after she said forever byebyes!”

“Uh-” You try to interject.

“I’m sorry sir, one of our other employees made a mistake. She smuggled an unweaned foal out in her mouth. I’m gonna have to put him down, we don’t hand feed here and all our other mares are sold out. Sorry little guy…” Tom sighs as he reaches for one of the surgical hammers.

“Best to handle this now…” Tom said, raising the hammer.

“DADDEH! Daddeh!” Biscuit cried, having worked up the courage to look out from your coat again. “Pwease no wet widdle babbeh get fowever sleepies. Am smaller than Biscquit! Pwease Biscquit promise to be bestest fwuffy evah if sawe Aycd!”


“Hey-hey wait a second!” You stutter. “Wait, wait...okay...maybe I’ll buy that one too? I’m in class a lot, maybe he could use a friend?”

“Huuuu! Pwease no huwt with mewal swticke...” Acyd whined, the hammer stopping mere inches from snuffing out his life.

“Sir, are you sure? We normally don’t sell unweaned foals, they are a lot of work, you have to bottle feed them every three to four hours, then you have to wean them off it…” He countered, shaking his head.

God damn it, I didn’t come in here to looking to get even one of these things but…

“Mummah! Huuu wa…” Acid moaned as he struggled upright, struggling to weakly walk on his little hooves to his mother. “Wan huggies...nu wun huwties from scwawy mistah Tom...wan miwkies and bwuddas and swistas…whewe bruddahs and sistas?”

You look down at the trembling little Acid. He was half as big as Biscuit, clearly terrified, an much more of a baby. And feeding him every three or four hours? If you did this, you weren’t getting a lot of sleep.

“Mistah…” croaked Holiday, and you turn your head to look at the sad creature.

“Pwease...pwease take wast babbeh...seen all other babbehs go forever sweepie...nu can have nu more...am now munstah...pwease...pwease...pwease be nyu daddeh for Acyd...give him wahm home with wots of milkies an skeeties and wub...an...an...an sorry for bad poopies daddeh...waw scawed...”

“I…” you let out a long, loud sigh. “Fine, I’ll take that one too, get some extra accessories I guess.

“You sure sir?” Tom asked once more.

You look down at Biscuit, who was looking at you imploringly, reaching out with his little hooves towards you, as if you were some kind of hero. No one or nothing had ever looked at you like that before. You scratch him on the head as you reply.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You reply, a bit reluctantly.

“Very well sir, I’ll toss in a carrier and some foal milk for free. Saves me a lot of trouble.” He replied crisply, nodding at you. “I’ll go get that now for you, it’s best to put the both of them in together so they get used to each other, and let Acid say his goodbyes to his mother...again.”

As he went to get the carrier, Holiday thanked you.

“Dank yu su much nice mistah...u sab babbeh from forever sleepies. Howiday can never repway u. Bu howiday can tell babbeh u are nyu daddeh and be good babbeh.”

Acid, by this point, had reached his mother’s teats, and was suckling on it while chirring happily.

“Acyd…” Holiday cooed. “Wisten to mummah, babbeh.”

Acid stopped sucking on his mother’s teat, and, mouth still dripping with milk, responded.
“Ye bestest mummah? Mummah ne mo nummies for miwkies? Chirp. Mumma wan hugs for babbeh? Peep?”

Holiday began to tear up.

“Nu babbeh. Mummah wub u, more than mummah wub anwything evah. But mummah have to go to forever far away pwace. Mummah never see babbeh again. Babbeh wisten to mumma-”

“Huuu! Acyd go with yu! Pwacw good for mummah, gu for babbeh!”

“Nu wowk wike that babbeh. Nu want to go to pwace mummah goin. But nyce hoomin with poopie babbeh, he be nyu dadeh. Am nyce daddeh. Will giwe huggies, wub, sketties, everything.” By this point, both she and Acid were full on crying. You notice Biscuit squirming in your pocket as well, and see him softly crying as well.

Poor guy is probably remembering being separated from his mother as well.

As Tom neared once again, she continued, at a faster pace.”

“Mummah always wub yu. Mummah newer forget. Mummah teach yu how be gwood fwuffy. Aways wib daddeh huggies. Awaws good poopie in wittabox. Awawys be grateful for skeeties. If fine special friend, be nyce fwuffy. Prowise? Prowise be gwood fwuffy who grow up big an’ strong?”

“Hu hu hu…” Acid sobbed. “Pwowise be gud fluffy.”

As Tom set the carrier down and nodded at you, Holiday finished.

“Nu give mummah last huggies…and gu to nyu daddeh…”

“Huuuuu! Acid awawys miss mummah”

“Mummah awayws miss babbeh.”

And with the final huggies from foal to mummah completed, Tom grabbed Holiday and shoved her back into her carrier. After doing so, he reached under the table and pulled out a box of baby wipes and put them on the table.

“While I put her back, now would be a good time to put them both in the carrier and watch their reactions. If they don’t get along, we can see a sorry sticking until they do. Would you like me to get you all the things a new owner might need? Sorry stick, a little pen for them, little box, some kibble, Flufflove™ Spaghetti treats, canned spaghetti, and a few other things?”

“Ah...how much would that be?” You say, as you carefully extract Biscuit, with his now poop-smeared behind, and place him down on the table.

“I’ll tell you what, since you’ve been so patient today, I’ll let you take both foals and all the accessories for just $75.00, and include a foal insurance package for both as well. If one of them gets sick or dies, you can bring him back here for a replacement. Good for up to six months. Do you want them neutered?

You had no idea what the hell a good price was for two foals and a bunch of accessories, but $75 wasn’t too bad, all things considered. It was the cost of a new video game and some dlc.

“Ah, sure, if you could get that ready for me and...uh...can I bring them back later to do that?”

You didn’t want to traumatize them any more today. They seemed to be such fragile little things.

“Excellent sir, I’ll get started on that right now, and of course you can make an appointment any time to do so!” Tom responded, beaming at you.

Yeah, he definitely gets a commission of some kind.

As you let Biscuit down, you grab one of the hand sanitizing wipes and wipe down his butt, cleaning the poop off him. He giggles as you do so

“Cooo, daddeh tha tickles!”

You smile at him, then look over at a despondent Acid, who was sitting upright, not having moved since giving his mother her final huggies, looking scared and confused.

“Hu hu hu...hav wowtest heart huwties…” He sobbed. “Mummah gone fowevah...nu wan to go with nyu daddeh...wan mummah…”

“Hey there Biscuit, do you mind going over there and comforting Acid? This has been a hard time for him.” You ask kindly.

“O course daddeh! Biscquit pwomise to be bestest fwuffeh for bestest daddeh!”

With that, Biscuit began to waddle over to Acid, his red tail wagging happily as he did so.

“Hewwo nyu fwend!” He chirped.

“Huu...scwary big poopie colt nu hurt Acyd! Am only widdle babbeh! Huuuu! Mummah!” Acid cried, falling over on his stomach and covering his eyes. “Weave Acyd alone! Peep!”

“Nuuu! Nuu, Acyd go it all wwong! Biscquit nu hurt Acyd! Wan be nyu fwend!” Biscuit replied comfortingly. “It otay if gib huggies?”

Acid opened his emerald eyes just a little. “Nyu...fwen?” he mumbled. “Otay…buh...nu wan huggies right now...swill scawed…”

“Otay. Biscquit understan. Biscquit nu wha like to be scawed of nu fwuffy.” He nodded.

“Rweary?” Acid replied, looking carefully at both you and Biscuit, still not super trusting.

“Rweary. Nyu daddeh save Biscquit from munstah, ebil fwuffy caww Hewwion. Daddeh am good hoomin, am bestest hoomin!” Biscuit exclaimed, turning and pointing at you with one of his hooves.

“Nyu daddeh is...goo hoomin?” Acid said, looking up at you with a little less caution. “Hoomin give petties and scratchies?”

Biscuit looked at you and gave you a nod.

Would be good to clean him up a bit too…

“Yes, come here little fellow, I’ll give you some petties and scratchies, just let me clean you up a little bit first.”

“Otay...tank you.” Acid responded with uncertainty, carefully watching your hand as you first reach it out and let him sniff it. After he seemingly acquiesced, you carefully tell him to close his eyes and clean him down with the wipe.

“Huuu...nuu smell gwood…” Acid whined at the smell of the baby wipe cleaning him off.

“It otay, it otay.” Biscuit said comfortingly. “Petties and scratchies soon.”

And you did give Acid his petties and scratchies. You started off with petting him, very carefully, on his little green forehead, rubbing his ears much like you did Biscuit. Although he was much more timid than even Biscuit was, after a little while he began to warm up and snuggle, if slightly, against you. You then scratched his back, mane, and belly for a little while, and while he did not say too much, you can tell he relaxed quite a bit. You swore you even heard a bit of a chrr.

As you hear the sound of footsteps and plastic bags, heralding the return of Tom, you point at the carrier with its interior soft towel.

“Do you think you guys can be good fluffies and ride in the carrier together?”

“Carr-rieh?” Biscuit asked, and when you pointed to the it, he cowered a little. “Nuu daddeh, that am sowwy-box. Fwuffy no wike sowwy box.”

“Nuuu! Huhuhu nu wan go sowwy box.” Acid cried.

You sigh, scratching your head and thinking. While you wanted to just toss both of them in there, you suspected you would need to build a lot of trust with them and doing that would traumatize them.

“It’s only for a little while, I promise. I-Daddy just can’t carry the both of you to your new home unless you get in. You want to go to your new home, right? And daddy will give you a treat.”

Jesus this feels weird, calling myself daddy…

Biscuit had a serious look of contemplation, and a little bit of fear on his face. Acid seemed unconvinced and started to scoot away from the carrier, although he did stop when he heard the word “treat”.

Biscuit replied first, looking at you seriously.

“Otay daddeh...Biscquit reawwy nu wan go in sowwy box. Buh daddeh sawe Biscquit and Acyd, stop wowstest huwties and forewah sweepies. Biscquit put biggest twusties in nyu daddeh.” He gave you a firm nod “can have huggies first?”

“Of course,” you reply, picking him up and hugging him against your chest.

“Teehee, wub good upsies, wub good huggies!” Biscuit chirped, nuzzling against you, and offering no resistance when you put him in the carrier. He looked around it for a bit, then found a comfortable spot on the towl. You then look at Acyd, who had scooted even further away, and was nearing the edge of the table. Glancing down at Biscuit, you whisper to him.

“A little help getting Acyd in here, Biscuit?”

“Otay daddeh.” He agreed, then called out to Acyd. “Look widdle bwuddah, no huwtsies in hewe. Only wub from daddeh. Be gud fwuffy and wisten to daddeh?”

Acid looked carefully at the carrier, then at you, then at Biscuit.

“Huu...am scawed…”

“It otay. Wan huggies from daddeh fwist?”

“Hu…” he replied, his voice wavering. “Hu...maybe…daddeh wub Acyd?”

You smile reassuringly at him.

“Yes, Daddy loves Acid.”

“Otay. Can huggies Acyd.”

With that, you carefully pick up the little green foal. He was so light and scrawny! You were careful as you pull him to your chest and stroke him comfortingly, holding him more carefully than you would a newborn kitten. This time, he started to coo a little.

“Acyd...wub daddeh...daddeh...wub...Acyd.” He sang, slightly, likely remembering his song. “Daddeh gib Acyd miwkies to gwow up bwig and stwong!”

“That’s right,” you say, carefully scratching him again, “but milkies are at home, and daddy needs you to go into the carrier with Biscuit to get them. Can you do that for me Acid?”

“Huuu…” he whines a little, then stops. “Otay...B-Biscuit be nyce...nu try and gib huggies if nu wan?”

“Biscuit?” you ask.

“Biscquit promiwse no gib huggies unwess Acyd wan to.”

“Good fluffy!” You respond happily. “See Acid, you’ll be okay.”

“Otay...Acyd will go in sowwy box.”

With that, you carefully put him in, allowing him to decide where he wanted to stay. After a bit of hesitation where he moved toward the far end of the carrier away from Biscuit, he decided to move a bit closer to him on the towel. You get the feeling he isn’t currently a fan of other fluffies for some reason, but that he seems to be capable of warming up to them.

“You’re a good fluffy too!” You reply as you close the carrier. “You two play nice now, okay?”

“Otay bestest daddeh!”

“Otay, Acyd be gwood fwuffy.”

With a smile, you leave them there for a bit, and make the final arrangements with Tom, gathering up your accessories and spending another $20 on a few books on how to best raise your fluffy. When you finish and grab your supplies in one hand, you take a look inside the carrier. Biscuit has fallen sound asleep, not surprising since the poor fellow was sleep deprived, wagging his tail in a dream. Acid still looked a little sullen over losing his mummah, but perked up when he saw you.

“Hewwo daddeh.”

You motion for him to be quiet, putting your fingers on your lips, then pointing at Biscuit. Then, you reach into your bag and pull out a spaghetti-flavored candy treat and motion for him to come forward. His eyes immediately light up, his tail begins wagging, and he comes over to you in a hurry. You break off a piece of it and feed it to him through the bars, and he chrrs happily as you do so. You give him head scratchies as well.

“Acyd wub nyu daddeh. Sketti candy is bestest nummies and daddeh is the bestest daddeh! Cooooooo!”

Your smile in response could brighten the darkest, coldest corner of the galaxy. You feed him the rest of the treat, finish up petting him, then ask “Are you ready to go to your new home Acid?”

“Acyd wub new daddeh! Acyd excite!” He chirped happily, wagging his tail.

“All right then, let’s go.”

Ever so carefully, you pick up the carrier, nod at Tom, and soon you are at the front of the store. As the automatic doors open before you, you wonder for a moment if you’re ready of this. Then you think of the adorable sleeping Biscuit and how happy Acid was to go to his new home, and grip the handle of the carrier firmly. You can do this. You won’t mess it up like you have everything else in your life.

--------End of Part 3-----------


- Reply
CadianGlory: Kek finally, seems to be okay, after formatting issues, after Word reverting my corrections and SPAG edits. This should be final.
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tomi: god i love this fuckin shit.
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CadianGlory: @Tomi thank you! Quick note, Word messed with my edit when converting to text, >..an...an...an sorry for bad poopies daddeh...waw scawed...” is supposed to go after Biscuit pleading for Acid's life, not on Holiday's line, a few other things got messed up but nothing major like that, will look into fixing that for part four.
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Anonymous1: I’m sorry, but $95 on two foals, one unweaned, is excessive. This guy is retarded
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Anonymous2: ^ Have to remember that includes all the accesories like balls/blockies , treats, sorry stick, litterbox, foal milk, cans of spaghetti, kibble etc, books in addition to the foals.
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Anonymous3: Probably like $20 for the foals alone, $20 for the books, $55 for the rest. Not unreasonable, though I think Fluffmart upsold him a bit.
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Draytini: This is so sweet! Warms the dark folds of my cold, dead heart. One thing, however. Fluffies traditionally cannot say either "L" or "R" and those are replaced with a W. For the sake of legibility, I would refrain from adding any extra w's where L's or R's did not already exist. Other than that, however, it's a great read! I'm really enjoying it!