The key turns the the lock and opens the door of the Happy Hills fluffy shelter & health center. Because of a legal dispute with veterinarians who don't want their profession to be in any way connected to shitrats fluffy veterinarians can't call themselves as such so instead they go by "fluffy technicians" and their business as fluffy health centers.
Rick Sanchez, named like that by his stupid dad after a character of some shit-tier meme show that nobody remembers anymore. After the last restructuring of the conglomerate that owns the LLC that owns the shell corporation registered in some shithole in the pacific for tax purposes and which owns this shelter/clinic he is the last employee in charge of well, everything. He got a fluffy technician license from a udemy course that was actually stolen from a youtube channel as usual, but it came with a certificate which is how he landed this job and is the sole reason why he didn't get fired unlike Tiffany whose only previous experience was being an InstaThot, or Hu the one asian in the entire world who couldn't do math.
First to check the overnight delivery slot. Rick grabs his compressed air tank and connects the hose. He then opens the tiny door into the dark storage area. He can already hear the squeaky noises of hoofs against the steel.
DUMMEH HOOMIN! SMAWTIE WANT SKETTIE AN' EFIE MA-
It only takes Rick a second to place the bolt pistol on the red earthie's forehead
The stallion shits itself as its brains get liquefied in a second, the brain stem remains intact so the body keeps shaking for a while blood oozes out from the hole in its skull and from its eyes.
"Fucking smarties, get one everyday" says Rick just before grabbing it by its tail and tossing it into the nearby biobin.
"Lets see the rest" he says as he flashes a light.
Huuu, scawy noises! wewe meanie smawty?
Wewe mummah? nice mistah kno wewe mummah is?
Slow day, only a pregnant gray pegasus mare with a white mane, a purple unicorn stallion with a yellow mane who was probably a stray shoved in by a "concerned citizen" (aka: cheap fags who wont pay the shelter fee) 5 unwanted foals thrown by the owner of a mare who still kept her and of which only 2 are alive and the rest seem to have died from the fall, too bad both have shit colors. Last is the cherry on top of this turd sundae: a fucking pillowfluff green and yellow earthie mare, talk about shit nobody wants!. Rick can tell by its well-kept state and behavior that it wasn't a punchbag/torture victim but one of those fluffies whose owner fell for the "pillowfluffs are happy fluffs" and got the legs removed with a stumper. As always they get tired of having to clean the crap and do literally everything for them and just toss the fluffy away and get a new one with legs.
Rick grabs the pillow mare by the scruff.
"So, how you ended up here?"
Huuu, natawia wuz takin a walkie with mummah, it wuz nicey outsidey bu' den mummah saw a tiny housie with a nu-see wall and behin' it was fuww of babbehs in tiny nu-see housies!-
A foal-in-a-can machine! figures...
-den mummah sed sumthin 'bout being tiwed o' natawia, got a babbeh fwum da tiny housie. It was su pwetty! but den mummah put natawia in dis sowwie boxie...
"Well your mummah is one cheap bitch for not even coming here to buy and she's not taking you back I tell you that"
Huuu, su mistah am nyu daddeh?
"Fuck no! and I would mulch your worthless ass since nobody ever gets a used pillowrat but I get paid by the state to keep you here for a week so I'll do it"
O-otay -said the mare not quite understanding her situation- fank ou mistah!
"Yeah you wont be saying that when I'm tossing you into the Inferno9000(TM)"
Wu-wu am dat?
"Doesn't matters" he said as he placed the mare into a stained cardboard box on top of a rickety trolley.
Next what the pregnant pegasus mare.
"So what's your name?"
Fwuffy am awiadne!
"Shitty name, so do you remember the colors of your special friend? was it a 'wingie'? 'pointie?'"
Nu wememba, it wuz at the pawk an' da bwight baww wuz gon, tu dawkies
"Greeeeeat..." said Rick realizing there was no way to tell if this was a shitfactory. "Well your fat ass looks like its gonna pop tomorrow so if your foals are good enough I might make some cash. If not they get the grinder"
Um, can awiadne keep da babbehs?
"Nope! once your 7 days are gone you are toast, literally. Your foals wont be weaned by then but I got a couple milkbags around to feed them. Your only hope is that somebody shows up wanting to buy a mare with all its foals which its almost impossible, only huge hugfags and edgelord abusers go for that but we are not allowed to sell to the later group anymore."
Then it was the turn of the filthy unicorn stallion. Rick reached in and grabbed it.
"So you got a name?"
Yus mistah, fwuffy am downut
"Donut? well thats dumb, so where's your owner?"
Huuuhuu, daddeh weave su long agu, nobody want downut, hoomins sed am faggit
"Well you look kinda gay with those colors, and are those sprinkles? anyway it seems you got parasites on your back"
Dat am wowmie fwiends!
"Yeah whatever, they don't pay me to cure you and the meds are expensive. Luckly for me I am now authorized to use my magic brain-remover again!"- Rick said with a smile while raising the captive bolt gun and placing it on donut's forehead like it did with the smarty.
Uh whu am dat? mista is dat-
"Oh fuck!" yelled Rick. Donut moved its head to look around before he pulled the trigger and the bolt instead of going through the center of the skull and scrambling its brains had teared the upper right corner of Donut's head taking a chunk of skull bone and exposing the brain, its right ear hanging by a thread while blood gushed from the hole.
"Shit! stay still!"
But Donut wouldn't stop shaking its head in desperation...
...so this time the bolt went into its left eye and out its left temple, leaving an exit hole just below his remaining ear. It went through the brain leaving a trail of bone shards and pieces of eye inside.
And of course more blood, everywhere...
Rick went medieval on Donut's head which now looked like swiss cheese from all the holes....yet somehow it was still breathing.
"Well its not screaming anymore, guess its enough" he said as he tossed Donut into the biobin with the still shaking smarty.
Last were the foals
Rick grabbed the live ones with his left hand and dead ones in his right hand, placed the former in another box on top of the trolley. As for the later he then walked to the grinder tossing them inside the square funnel. He went back to the store and brought a box labelled "rejects", basically foals that were born dead or defected. Many still alive, some even a bit grown. Rick took the box and threw the contents in the funnel. The foals fell roughly on top of each other.
And he pushed the red button...
The sounds of an electric motor going from 0 to 100 in a second, metal teeth speeding up at speeds faster than any blender. It only takes a fraction of a second for all the foals to simply disappear. A stringy slop came out from an extruder on the side of the machine and fell into an old green bucket with "sketti" written on the side with a black sharpie ages ago.
"Well that's all, time to take you shits to the front" said Rick as he pushed the trolley through the door.