My hooves quickly clacked down the stairs, it was so empty in this staircase that even a small mouse could be heard through the walls. Opening the door to the world, I suddenly remembered– I hate being outside!
But, being out here is the only way I could get entertainment. My mother refuses to make, or even buy a telly, let alone a radio. The stallions that were fighting each other from before were already getting arrested, their mint being confiscated.
Usually that means the product isn’t even theirs to begin with, sucks to be them, huh?
I looked behind myself, making sure that the door to the apartment was locked. My apartment isn’t some posh mare’s household, queen’s no! I live in the fucking slums, and my mother’s apartment always looks like it’s gonna collapse at any moment.
The apartment was leaning on its side, bricks and cement chipped on every corner. The ugly graffiti written on the top of the door is still there, read it out loud, and you’re sure to get arrested.
“FUCK BOOTLICKERS” is what it said, I always snicker at it. Personally, I like the ugliness, it really adds to the whole ‘being poor’ aesthetic.
Spinning on the back heel of my hoof, I’d trot forward to the nearby bodega. If you don’t know what that is, it’s a corner store. We have a bodega cat too, her name is Stacy, the owner installed a mechanical back leg to her so in a sense, we’re matching. Only difference is I’m crippled at the front, and Stacy is at the back. At least she’s cute though.
“Musiiiic Booox!” A familiar voice to me called out my name, it was just old Racket. His real name is Racket Clanket, but this guy is so old that I think he lived a century by now. He had steam shooting out from his brass back, his gray beard almost reaching the dirt and his eyes squinting towards me. Poor guy was going blind I figured, soon he's gonna need to get installments on his eyes too.
“Alright? Nice to see you’re kickin’ gramps.” I jested, I don’t want to see this old fart drop dead anytime soon.
“Oy, right! I won’t die, not yet laddy.” He chuckles, slowly moving to the desk and register he works at. He always mistakes me for a stallion, I don’t really mind though. My eyes looked around for Stacy, she wasn’t here. Usually she props herself up on the desk whenever a customer shows up. “Where’s Stacy?” I asked Racket.
“Ohhh,” Old Racket muttered, rubbing at his beard with his hoof. That doesn’t sound good, “IIII–I don’t know, laddy. Some kids ran off with ‘er, I tried to catch up to ‘em but, you know me son, can’t run.”
“Whot?” I asked, my eyes almost bulging out of my face. “Some fucking rugrats took ‘er? Fucking foals, they can’t pick a roach up the ground and eat ‘at instead?!” I was pissed, royally so I’d like to think. You don’t fuck with cats, and especially not old Racket’s cat, shes a lovely tuxedo and I’d rather them die old together than her end up on some kid’s plate. “Do you remembah which way they went, gramps?”
“Errr..” He grumbled, oh, don’t tell me this guy is losing his memory as well. I pleaded to whoever was listening to me, give me some kind of hint, “Errr, eehhh–yeah.” Oh, thank the nonexistent queen! “ ‘Ey took ‘er to an alley, but some kids were standin’ guard, I couldn’t take ‘em on ‘m own.” I furrowed my brows, and tugged on my satchel, “Don’t worry, gramps, I’ll ‘et Stacy back.”
“Son, you don’t have–” I stopped him, “She’s my cat too, I’ve been goin’ to this place since I was eight, and I’ve been seein’ her since I was eight! I’m gonna get ‘er!” I cared more about that cat than my own self, Racket himself looked surprised. He waved me off, and stared down towards his register, “Well, good luck, lad.” He didn’t sound like he believed in me, and to be frank, I don’t either.
However, I’ve already made my decision, and I was on my way towards that alley he supposedly said those rascals were at.
Eventually, I made my way to this stinky and smelly alley. Felt more like the sewers than an alleyway. There were dumpsters that hadn’t had their trash thrown out in probably five months, little robot flies buzzing around the stench that wavered off of it. Like gramps said, there were some foals standing guard in the entrance. They were the size of my two legs, but they looked like they’d been used for punching bags.
One foal had his eye taken out I assume, and a scar that ran across the top of his forehead to the bottom of his right cheek, he was wearing this potato sack bag that had holes patched up. The other was a filly, she was missing two front teeth and had bandages wrapped around her two forelegs. Although they looked tough, that doesn’t mean they are tough.
I trotted towards the two, and in an instance they recited something like it was out of a script.
“HALT!” They yelled at me, “ONLY FOALS ARE ALLOWED HERE!”
I decided to lie, “I am a foal.” And the filly snorted, “Nuh-uh, you’re a fuckin’ senior citizen!” Okay, they got eyes at least, it was most likely my bags under my eyes that gave it away. Damn insomnia!
“Okay, ya got me,” I said, “But I ain’t fockin’ old ya twats, O’I’m fockin’ twenty!” I huffed. The two laughed at me, this feels like I was on the playground again. “You’re ancient! Fock off!” The colt scowled at me.
I gritted my teeth, “Fine, no more Mr.Nice Mare.” I stomped my leg on the ground, the gears spinning rapidly as steam emitted from the corner of the metal parts, “Oi know you got a cat ‘ere, she’s black ‘en white, ‘en she's got cute blue eyes with a mechanic leg– So you both either tell me, or I’m–” Then, the filly cut me off, “Or what?” She didn’t even let me finish my sentence!
“I’ll–”
“You’ll grow more wrinkles?!” The colt snarkingly replied.
“No, I’ll–”
“You’re gonna give us crows feet!?” The filly popped her bubblegum at me as she’d let out a burst of laughter.
This– This is humiliating.
I sucked my teeth in, I couldn’t take it anymore! I hate these fucking foals, and I hate that they’re making fun of every little thing on my face. Raising my leg, I gave the filly a slap to the face.
THWACK!
The filly fell on her flank, and tears swelled up in her eyes. It felt good for a moment, only to realize– Aw fuck, I fucking hit a kid. The colt stomped his little legs towards me, and then went to reconcile with his friend, “You’re deranged, miss!” He yelled at me. The filly wailed, “WAAAAAHHH!” Sobbing her poor little lungs out. “I–uhh..” I awkwardly stuttered. “You’re fuckin’ mental! It’s okay, Ribbons!” I shrugged it off, and quickly trotted closer to their hideout. “HEY! You can’t just–”
“WAAAAAAAAAAH!” There’s the filly again, and the colt was right back to trying to calm her down.
At least it worked.
Their den was like a bootleg fortress. Candles that were burnt out were all over the place, pillow fortresses which made it seem like they were meant to be tents, and sweets wrappers that covered the bottom of the ground. This was a foal’s playpen.
“YOU!” A pitched voice yelled from somewhere, they didn’t even hit puberty yet!
I looked around for who yelled for me, the blankets were all shut and I stared forward. There were curtains that were tied from one building to another, and slowly the drapes opened up.
It revealed a colt with a paper crown, white coat with brown spots and dark blue mane. His golden eyes staring down at me like he was the next prince in the bloodline. On his lap however? It was Stacy! She didn’t even look a touch wounded, or thank the queen, EATEN!
“WHY ARE YOU HERE? AND WHY HAVE YOU SLAPPED ONE OF MY GUARDS, YOU MUPPET!” My ears lowered, and I scrunched the corner of my snout. “Your guards were making fun of me.” I replied.
“That’s because you’re an old dunce!” The fake prince snarled. To be fair, I am a dunce, but I’m not that old!
“Listen–listen–” I shook my head, I’m not about to slap another foal in the face. “O’Im just here for Stacy.”
“Who the FOCK is Stacy?” The colt huffed as he was petting Stacy on her fluffy forehead. It looks like she didn’t care though. “The cat on your lap!” I responded. “ ‘Er name isn’t Stacy, ‘er name is Flufflekins the Fifth!” He smiled, holding up Stacy and then turning her on her side to rub her belly. “Mrrrrow..” Stacy purred, “And she’s moi cat.” He smirked.
“She’s not your cat!” I called out, pointing towards him.
“Whot?! Yes she is! We found ‘er on the streets! My guards said so.”
“Your guards are lying!” I looked around towards the tents, foals were sticking their heads out. “The cat is named Stacy, an’ she belongs to the bodega owner, Racket!” I spoke my heart out to the child, I don’t know if he's gained the ability to feel empathy but I am trying my best. “Imagine bein’ tha’ old and your only frien’ is a cat! That cat! He’s tha’ reason she can walk on four legs, and she’s tha’ reason he’s still walkin’ at all, that he even gets out of bed!” My voice softened, reaching my forelegs up to the colt. “Please, give ‘er back. He needs her back.”
I could see the colt ponder, and his face eventually turned from a smug smirk to a frown– Then that devilish grin again, “He’s gonna die anyways, so I don’t care! BLEH!” He stuck his tongue out at me, “GUARDS, arrest her!” He extended his leg towards me as more foals marched out from their tents.
I hate foals.
So, so much.
On an instinct, I grabbed the nearest thing to me, a pebble. Launching the pebble up towards the colt’s head in hopes that it’ll at least hit him on his noggin.
Just like I learned with my last lesson, is that I should always enact violence on foals. The pebble smacked him dead in his eye, “OWWWUUUUH!” He cried out, and Stacy’s hair stood up as she ran down his lap and out of the alleyway. The foals tried to catch her, but catching an animal like her is like catching a slime of gloop, she’s just too slick. As the boy whined about his eye, I decided it was my time to head out.
Unlike these foals, my legs are fully grown and I simply could run faster than they ever can. I ran out of the alley, chasing after Stacy, past the two guards. On my way out however, I accidentally knocked the kid I slapped in the face, I could hear her crying again.
“Sorreh!” I apologized, not looking back as I galloped after Stacy.
Out of breath, we eventually reached our destination. Luckily for me, it was Stacy’s home. The bodega, and it was already getting dark. Stacy jumped towards the desk that old Racket was moping on, and I could see his face light up when he saw her.
“Staceh!” He chuckled, roughly petting the cat on her head. He could give a rat's ass about me, I was huffing and puffing over here. “Fwuuhh.. Y–You’re welcome,” I exhaled loudly, “Racket.”
“Thanks, laddy.” He gave me that precious old guy smile, “I’m givin’ you a discount for tha’ next three days for findin’ her. Y’er a good kid, y’er mom is proud of ya, I bet.” My slight smile eventually returned back to my monotone expression– Right, mom.
“Yeah,” I gulped down on my saliva, and fixed my hat which was crooked from all that running. “I–It’s getting late, I think I’ll be goin’ now.” I gave a wave towards the stallion, my eyes breaking eye contact with him as I’d begin my way back home. It’s only a few blocks north, but I didn’t really want to face my mom after what I said to her today.
Staring up, I could see the steam creating clouds of fog that hovered over this town. Where I lived was called Porkobelly Road, and it used to be a road before a certain corporation decided to take over and build their factories here. The citizens here built our own houses, apartments, but it was never anything fancy compared to how the creatures uphill live. I always envied them. I wish I lived in a nice house where I had my own little fireplace, a classic nuclear family, and a mom that’s gadgets weren’t obscure.
Soon enough, I had made my way back home, but there were griffons with tuxedos standing outside, and a stallion with this horrendous goatee. I figured it was just some scandal again, but as I got closer, I could see the griffon clenching my mom’s leg tight in his grip.
She was being questioned, forcefully.
“Where’s the gun, Mrs.Trinket?” The stallion asked my mother, “WHERE are our PRODUCTS?” The griffon clenched my mother’s leg so hard, she yelped; I could see blood being drawn from her foreleg.
“LET GO OF MY MOM!” I yelled out, stomping my leg towards them. All three of them turned their heads around to look at this wimpy mare, and my mom with the most tired expression on her face. She wasn’t smiling like she always was, she looked scared and hopeless, but she tried to fake a smile as best as she could this time. “B–Boxie, please just go upstairs,” She murmured. “No, mom! What are they doing to you– with you! Let go of her!” I screamed at them, at any moment I wanted to lunge at them.
“This your daughter?” The stallion smirked, eyeing me up and down like I’m his food. “She’s grown well.”
“You’re old, back off, fockface!” Fucking creep, looking at me like that. My mother didn’t seem too amused, and she was shaken around like some ragdoll. He threatened her, “Where’s the fucking products, and nothin’ bad will happen to her.”
“To me? You fockin’--” I took another step forward, but the moment that I did, the other griffon made his way towards me and grabbed me by the neck. He forced me to the ground, my face being rubbed with dirt and grime. “Fhuck–! Shtupid,” My voice muffled as the griffon showed no care, and I could hear my mother sobbing. My eyes widened as I listened, I felt paralyzed.
I felt weak.
“Please–please, don’t do anything to her, please, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt my daughter!” My mom begged with the stallion. My eyes peered up, and I could see his face. His shit-eating grin.
“Anything?” I heard him say, he looked towards the griffon that was holding her and they began to pull her away from the scene.
“STOP! SCHTOP!” I cried out, tears formed in my eyes and eventually ran down my cheeks. “PLEASCHE! MOM, DO SOMETHING!” I tried to move, I really did, but the griffon was heavier and he is stronger than I am. I kicked my hindlegs around, pleading, “MOM! MOM!” The tears fogged my eyes as everytime I blinked, I could see her getting farther away.
Somehow, out of pure luck, my hindleg bucked the griffon in his stomach. He grunted, “Rghh–” But, didn’t budge. Snot spurted from my nostrils, and as I cried out one more time for my mother.
“MOM!” THWACK!
Everything went dark.
Fluttering my eyes open, nopony or creature was here. No mom, no griffons, no stallion. I shakingly heaved myself up, staring down at the ground. I pressed my leg around, feeling the dirt as I felt something cold touch the bottom of my hoof.
It was a happy-face pin.
The company took my mother. ‘Cheers and’ fucking ‘Love Co.’.