POINT: You Need To Take Better Care Of Me
by Angel Bunny
Okay, Mom, there’s something I need to get off of my chest—living here is awful. Like, refugee-of-a-dying-country awful. Now, keep in mind that I’m a rabbit, and very easy to take care of. My needs are pretty much minimal. I need food, a place to sleep, and tender, loving care when I’m sick. That’s why it’s so mind-boggling that this house is so awful to be in.
Mom, I need you to take better care of me, or I might not want to live with you in this dump of a cottage anymore.
First of all, let’s talk about what you feed me. It’s the same thing, day after day. Is it dinnertime? Looks like I’m getting a salad. Breakfast? Better hope I’m hungry for salad. Hearth’s Warming Eve? Yeah, you guessed it.
Fucking salad.
Don’t get me wrong, it isn't that I don’t like salad. All I want is a little variety in my diet. Would it be so hard to pass me some of that sandwich, or maybe share the cupcakes that your annoying friend brings by every single day?
No, I guess that’d be too much to ask for. It’s not like you need to lose weight or anything, fatty.
Then there’s my bed—a shoe box. You have me, the second most important living thing in the entire house, living in an old cardboard box that you would have otherwise thrown out a long time ago. I don’t know when the last time you washed my linens was. Meanwhile, you’re upstairs sleeping in a real bed with a mattress and everything.
I don’t think I need to mention how fucked up that is.
But you know what the worst thing is? This one is actually a literal threat to my life. When I get sick, you would think that a doctor would be the best one to look after me. You know, some kind of actual professional. Someone who knows what they're doing. Instead, you decide that proper medical care is for pussies and try to handle it yourself. You make me eat subpar tomato soup and force these massive pills down my throat in what can only be called a show of animal cruelty.
Yeah, don’t really appreciate that.
It’s a miracle that I’m still alive.
COUNTERPOINT: Getting Real Tired Of Your Shit, Angel Bunny
by Fluttershy
Like I don’t have enough to do with both a sick family of squirrels and a litter of abandoned puppies to take care of, now I need to deal with this fuzzy asshole’s complaints. Alright, I’ll let all the other animals living here go hungry while I soothe his bruised ego. That was sarcasm, by the way.
Angel Bunny, I honestly gotta say that I’m getting real tired of your shit.
Is he seriously so miserable living with me? Free room and board, safety from his natural predators, and medical care he doesn’t have to pay for? He thinks all of this is bad pet ownership? What an entitled little shitsock.
Fine, I’ll lay down what things are really like.
This asshole seriously believes that, if I had my way, he would eat a damn salad every damn day for the rest of his damn life. The part he doesn’t mention is how I’ve offered him plenty of other things. Carrot souffle, vegetable stew, lettuce and tomato sandwiches—all of these things I’ve placed in front of him (on an actual fucking silver platter, no less), only to have them thrown back into my face. He will literally only eat salad, and he has the gall to complain when that’s what I give him? I swear to Celestia, if he throws one more salad on the ground because it doesn't have a cherry, I will feed him ground-up glass.
Well, you know what? Go get your own food, Angel Bunny, then we’ll see how good three free meals a day looks. I promise you’ll be begging for your salad when it’s not there anymore.
And what in Equestria is wrong with his bed? Although it technically is a shoe-box, it’s the best damn shoe-box I've ever seen. Cardboard? Really? It’s made of mahogany, for fuck’s sake. I had a small mattress custom-made, and I ordered the finest sheets and linens that I could. To be honest, his bed cost more than mine did, and it’s about a hundredth the size.
Oh, and I change his sheets every day and wash them by hoof. Not that he’d notice, since the lazy little asshat's always either cramming his face full of food or napping somewhere. Sometimes I just want to strangle him in his sleep.
Then there’s this little bit about taking care of him when he’s sick. You know, this was my favorite part of all to read, because I almost couldn’t stop laughing. Over the course of my life, I’ve taken enough classes in animal care to be a veterinarian. He wants someone who knows what they're doing? The only reason I'm not a professional is because I don’t care about the title. And that tomato soup he hates so much? That’s how I give him his medicine so that it doesn’t taste so bad going down. Of course I’ve told Angel this, but it’s typical of him to ignore me like the little twat he is.
Animal cruelty? For making him take a pill? Yeah, because keeping my pet from dying a painful death after he eats a pound of poison ivy is “animal cruelty”. It doesn’t get more “tender and loving” than the care that I provide, but if you’d prefer to die by shitting out your insides like a fluffy white party-popper, then be my fucking guest.
I’ll tell you what, Angel Bunny. You better shape the fuck up, or it’ll be a miracle if I don’t murder you myself.