These snoots ain't made for booping.
Charlie wiggled impatiently in his seat as the car pulled into one of only a few available parking spaces. It was his birthday, and he was finally visiting the Houston Boop Farm. He had wanted to see it for months, ever since it first opened and advertisements for it had flooded his area. Billboards, targeted internet ads, TV commercials, radio ads while in the car, and even a promotion for it on the boxes of one of his favorite cereals. He couldn't wait; his parents made him wait regardless. He was determined to boop their snoots, and nothing was going to stop him. His pudgy, stubby arms flailed and he squealed as his mother exited the car from the front passenger side to open his child-proof door for him. When she did, the corpulent little imp nearly fell flat on his face, but was caught by strong motherly arms.
"Dang it, Charlie, hold yer horses. We're almost there," she said, her voice raspy from decades of smoking cigarettes and yelling at her husband.
"I wanna boop the ponies! I wanna boop the ponies!" he screeched, earning a glare from his mother that he was too excited to care about. She sighed and set him down, holding him still with a firm hand on his wrist, then quickly pulled a leash from a holster in the side of the car seat and, with a sharp click, attached it to an X-shaped harness he was wearing over his shirt. The moment she let go of his arm, he ran toward the large nearby building, only to be frustratingly stopped short by the leash, held firmly by his mother.
"Lemme go, lemme go, lemme go!" he yelled, tears of impotent rage forming in his eyes.
"Christ, Diane, do we really have to use that thing?" his father asked as he walked around the front of the car.
"This place is gonna be a crowded-ass clusterfuck, and he's gonna be dashin' about to who-the-fuck-knows where, so yes, Dan, we're usin' the leash," she replied and yanked on said leash, turning to face Charlie. "You behave right now or we're gettin' right back in the car and goin' home, understand?"
Charlie panted then sobbed out a chain of I'll-be-goods, strung together by snot-filled snorts and exaggerated gasps.
"Good. Now, let's get in there and get this over with."
Dan offered his son a half-assed smile and a too-hard squeeze of his shoulder, then they were off, headed toward the giant barn across the sea of parked cars. Charlie sniffled but remained silent, walking alongside his parents with the fear that they might still go back home weighing on his heart. The walk took several minutes, but they eventually reached an enormous, winding line through endless roped-off areas.
Putting on his biggest salesman smile, Dan pulled a folded hundred dollar bill from his pocket and strode to the main entrance, at the front of the line. "Hundred bucks for your place in line, anyone?" he yelled.
"Yo!" yelled a teenaged boy with a black hat and long jacket. "Right here, old man!"
Dan strode over to him and ducked under the rope, handing the kid the money, earning him glares and some annoyed shouts of protest, but no action. Never action. Charlie soon joined him, only having to tilt his head down to walk under the rope, followed by Diane with a lit cigarette in her mouth.
"Heh heh, works every time," Dan said, ruffling Charlie's hair. The plump child, nose still snotty, was feeling much better now that they were close. He started fidgeting, which soon turned into small excited hops and he quivered. The line moved forward slowly but steadily and it wasn't long before they were inside at the ticket booth and Diane had to put her cigarette out. They purchased three tickets and got their hands stamped and then stepped one by one through the turnstile.
Lining the immediate wall was a row of cages that stretched the length of the barn, probably about the length of a football field, Dan guessed. Each cage had a pastel pony inside it, but they could only see three, all mares, from where they were presently standing. One was a rosy pink with an orange mane, another light purple with a lime green mane, and the last a sky blue with an ivory mane. All three looked directly forward with their large eyes, staring at some distant point far away from here as if that imaginary not-here place was where they truly were. And perhaps, in their minds, they were.
Charlie shrieked out a high-pitched squeal of glee and ran up to the pink and orange one, her face just behind the bars and easily within reach of his dirty fingers. He giggled madly as he pressed the pony's nose with his fingertips, squishing it slightly. Again and again, with more and more verve, bordering on violence, he booped the pony's snoot, and she never reacted. It was as if Charlie wasn't even there. Or perhaps more accurately, as if she herself wasn't there. Her body was a soulless husk, lost forever as a mere plaything for humans' enjoyment. She was already dead in every way except physically.
"Hey! Hey, you! Pony! Say somethin', will ya?" Diane demanded. "I know you can talk, we saw videos of it on the internet, ya know."
The pony ignored her. Ignored everything.
Diane pulled on Charlie's leash and he got one last smack in that forced a blink from the mare, a dead reaction of pure instinct, but nothing more.
"Come on, Charlie, let's find one that talks," she told him, and he nodded and hurried ahead of them.
As the family passed more cages in the crowded barn, they noticed most of the ponies had the same dead-eyed stare, and the few who didn't were crying, tearless dry sobs. They, too, however, had no entertaining reactions, but Charlie booped them anyway.
One pony's nose looked raw and bloody, possibly infected, and Diane had to choke up on the leash to prevent her son from touching the disgusting thing.
They passed endless cages, finding many of the same sights. The unicorns had their horns filed down to nubs, as their magic could otherwise be dangerous. Pegasi had their wings clipped and tied back to prevent them from using them in creative ways. Most of the ponies looked too thin, as if they hadn't been fed enough, possibly to keep them weak and obedient.
Eventually the family found one with some life in her eyes. She was a pegasus, wings tied back like the rest, but she had additional restraints holding her head in place, up against the bars of the cage. Atop her head and neck was a mane with six distinct solid colors, making it look like a rainbow made of hair. Her eyes followed Charlie as he approached her, and to his and his parents' surprise, she spoke.
"Stay away from me, you hear?" she growled. Charlie laughed shrilly and poked her nose, and she snarled at him. Diane considered pulling him back, but this pony was much more interactive than the rest, and she didn't want Charlie to throw a fit, as he seemed to be enjoying himself with this one. "Stop it! Stop touching my nose, you little brat!"
Charlie smacked her nose harshly and giggled, then smacked it again, and she tried to pull away, to avoid his swinging hand, but her collar, tied tightly to the cage's bars and also to a hook on its ceiling, held her firmly in place. She had no option but to suffer his abuse.
"I'm warning you, you snot-nosed punk!" the pony said, but nobody was concerned because she was in a cage and they were not.
Charlie, a devious and maniacal smile plastered on his still-snotty face, poked his grubby finger at her nose and pressed, smushing it uncomfortably.
Her face twisted into a snarl of unfettered rage, and she lost all self control as she gave herself to it.
The pony's mouth opened wide, and the little intrusive finger found itself slipping down off of her nose and into her jaws. She closed her mouth, not holding back, merciless in her desire to put the kid in his place. Her teeth tore through it, cutting tendon despite their dullness, crunching through bone and cartilage, and it was still in her mouth as Diane yanked back on the leash, severing it fully from its owner. Charlie's face was frozen in shock. All of their faces were.
"My baby!" Diane screamed. The pony spit the finger out of her mouth, bright red blood dripping down her lower lip. Dan marched up and tried to attack her, but his large hands were awkward against the cage, and she bit viciously at the digits he presented, but didn't get a good hold before he gave up to yell for a guard.
"Ponies! Listen to me! We can fight! Don't let them own us!" the rainbow one yelled, desperate to get a message out before the guards came. Flecks of blood misted the bars in front of her as she continued. "Don't give up hope! Fight back, and make them pay for what they did to us!"
All around the barn, pastel ears perked up and eyes, lifeless and hopeless, turned toward her voice as if she was a shining beacon burning brightly enough for them to see despite their blindness to the world.
"They lied to us! They're not gonna let us go, and you know it, so fight! Waiting has gotten us nowhere! We can sti- AAAGH!"
She was cut off and the distinct electrical clicking sound of a shock stick was heard even over the distraught cries of "My baby! My baby!" from Diane and the shrieks of pain from Charlie.
As the pony went limp, disabled by the painful and powerful shocks, her cage was opened. Guards quickly added restraints to her legs and carried her away.
"I'm gonna sue you assholes into the ground!" Dan was shouting, at nobody in particular.
The entire place devolved into chaos and some people panicked and fled through the emergency exit, setting off an alarm that spread further panic.
Not long after, the building was empty of customers and was shut down for the day.
Dan held the morning newspaper in his hands, his breakfast half-finished as he found the story that interested him. It wasn't on the front page, but it was certainly relevant to his interests.
"Huh," he said. "Remember that pony boop farm we went to last year?"
Charlie glared at him as if the question offended him, his missing right index finger an ever-present (or perhaps ever-absent) reminder of that day and that place.
"Yeah," Dan continued, "anyway, looks like they're finally opening back up. Gonna keep muzzles on them now so nobody else gets bit. Isn't that great, champ?" He looked at Charlie with a very awkward Dad smile. Charlie just kept glaring. "Oh, don't be such a baby. You got us a lot of money when that pony bit you. Hell, if only I could have traded one of my fingers for a couple hundred grand..."
"Your father's right, sweetheart. It's just a finger, and look at all the nice stuff you got for it," Diane said.
Charlie said nothing. He let his rage seethe quietly, for he had learned not to express it outwardly to them.
Oh, how he wanted to bite their fingers off.
