I got hung up going through the ragged opening in the fence, and for a second, I thought that the three shit-rats were going to make it to the tree line before I could catch up to them. But then I was through and realized that a brisk trot would allow me to reach them before they could make good their escape.
They were in trailing formation, shitting as they went. The first one I came upon, a yellow earthie with a gray mane, was running slowly, as if there were something wrong with his back end. Maybe an old injury or birth defect. Regardless, I came up behind him and without breaking stride, kicked him hard in the ass. With a loud “SCREEEEE!!!!”, he went sailing several yards, tumbling as he hit the ground.
I few more paces and I caught up to the next one, a sky blue and crimson Pegasus. He kept looking over his shoulder at me and screaming, “NUUUUUUUU!!!!!” My plan was to reach out and grab him by the scruff as I went by. However, just as I put my hand out to snatch him up, he ducked and turned his neck. I ended up grabbing him by the head, his face in my palm. I could feel his snout moving against my hand. I don’t know if he was trying to say something or bite me.
I was afraid that I was going to lose my grip, so I gave up on holding him until I reached the last fluffy. Instead, I brought my arm up and then down sharply in a whip-cracking motion. I heard and felt his neck break and his body went limp. I dropped him and continued after my prey.
The last one was a large earthie, tan and dark blue. He was also the largest fluffy I had ever seen. About the size of a full-grown beagle. As I ran him down, he tripped and fell into a slight depression in the ground. I stood over him as he lay on his back, his tail up between his legs (I’ve seen other fluffies do that and wondered if they were trying to protect their genitals and belly or simply comforting themselves.) He was kicking out with his hind legs and his ears were flat against his head. Tears and snot ran down his face.
“Nu hewt fwuffeh!!” he screamed, “Am gud fwuffeh!! Huuu!! Huuu!! Huu!!”
“I don’t have time for your shit,” I told him and grabbed one of his flailing hind legs. I hoisted him up and dragged him back towards the fence, his head bouncing along the ground as we went.
“Nu! Am gud fwuffeh! Nu bad upsies!” he cried.
“Good my fat ass!” I told him, “That blue mare you and your asshole buddies attacked belongs to my daughter. You made her cry and now you’ll pay for it.”
“Fwuffeh on’y wan’ gud fewws wif pwetty mare! Huuu!!! Huuu!!!!!” he exclaimed, “On’y wan speciaw huggies!”
“Oh, yeah? It looked to me like you shit-rats were going to pull a train on poor Breezy.” I continued dragging him through the field, back towards the park.
We soon passed the yellow earthie that I had kicked. He was slowly pulling himself forward with his one remaining working foreleg, a thick trail of blood behind him.
“*Haf haf* Mummeh, dey done kilt yer boy. *Haf haf*” I heard him say as we went by. I saw that I didn’t need to worry about finishing him off, he would be dead before nightfall.
We were almost at the fence and I stopped. Frankly, I hadn’t thought far enough ahead as to what I was going to do with the tan earthie. So I stood there, listening to the sounds coming from the park. I could hear the excited voices from a child’s birthday party. I didn’t want them to witness this fluffy’s end, which was bound to be bloody.
But I could also hear the sounds of some kids playing ball on one of the diamonds. The distinctive clink of an aluminum bat gave me an idea.
“Hey, asshole, do you know what a piñata is?” I asked him. While he answered, I checked the pockets of my cargo shorts to make sure I had what I needed.
“Fwuffeh nu know wha’ dat is.” I found what I was looking for, a length of paracord.
“I’ll explain, then,” I said, “It’s a kind of a box covered in pretty paper. It can be in any shape or any color.”
Tying a loop in the cord one-handed proved to be impossible, so I dropped the fluffy and held him down with my foot. Once I was done, I fastened the cord to one of his hind legs and dragged him over to a nearby tree.
“Then, during a kid’s party, the piñata gets hung up and the kids take turns hitting it with a big stick” I continued.
“Fwuffeh nu wike dat, nu wike stick hewties!” he said. I looped the cord over a branch and lifted him up a couple of feet.
He let out a screech, “Bad upsies, bad upsies! Nu wan’!!!”
I was afraid that his yelling might draw attention, so I found a hair scrunchie that my daughter had used on Breezy’s tail and had removed at the park so she could brush her. I had put the elastic band in my pocket for safe keeping. I wrapped it around the tan fluffy’s muzzle to shut him up.
“We’re almost done, but I haven’t told you the best part yet.” I cast about, looking for something. Finally, I found it, a stick about three feet long and slightly thicker than a mop handle. “You see, eventually, after many hits, the piñata breaks open.”
The fluffy squirmed as he hung from the tree. I squared up next to him and brought the stick back over my shoulder.
“But the best part is, once it breaks open, we find out that it was full of candy! Isn’t that wonderful?” I shifted my weight back and forth to get a firm footing.
“Now, my question is, are you full of candy?” I brought the stick back, preparing to swing for the fences. “Well, are you?”