A bad lunch (Text by Menn019, inspired by the artwork of InfraRedTurbine for Write a smol story 8)

The area surrounding supermarkets and take-outs were always high risk on littered trash.
Environment services knew that, but cleaned up only after rush-hours, something feral fluffies knew.
It was just after the lunch-rush in the netherlands when Fikkie, a blue-gray fluffy with purple mane and tail was looking for left-over food, with varying succes.
Some french fries, a piece a sandwich salad and an empty Kapsalon tray with only some spicey sauce which he licked clean. Instant regret. “Wowstest buwnie huwties!”
In a panicked, burning, hurry he looked around for ‘miwkies’, but to no avail.
Then Fikkie saw it; fallen plastic remains of a sixpack a cola with two cans, one still closed, one busted open with still some in it…
The fluffy hobbled as fast as he could towards it and started guzzling, not knowing what or how he was drinking, he finished it.
Still burning, he wanted more. Ragingly, he moved and twisted to try to get to the other can, but noticed he got stuck akwardly in the plastic in the process…“NUUU!”

Valjean afvalverwerking was a waste disposal company who employed criminals for community service at the end of their punishment, reïntergrating them back into society.
Jan Ver, a balding white fatty with a goatee, was one of those sentenced to do forced labour for kicking the neighbours barking outside dog in the middle of the night, and was send to clean the trash along the road with a bunch of people who shared his faith under the supervision parole officers with 4-seater pickup truck equiped with plastic bags, gripper tools, leafblowers, brooms, shovels and nets to cover the open parts of the truck so stuff don’t come flying of.
The group, wearing bright coloured safety vests and cloves, and carrying trashbags and gripper tools, was dropped off at the beginning of the high-risk for trash roads, and the we’re supposed to leave filled bags near the road for pick-up.
Next to the usual stuff like disposable food-trays, empty coke-envelopes and sodacans, they had found weird shit before in the past; bicycles with only a seat missing, used underwear, full bags off weed, money, but it was beyond the turkish take-out, towards the end of the road Jan Ver found the weirdest so far, new to him (Hewwo, nice mistah, pwease hewp fwuffy fwom meanie tentwicwes?) and didn’t knew how to respond, should he help the helpless critter?
It could do good for his reputation towards the others… ‘Hey look! it’s a fluffy stuck in the trash’ Jan heard the officers say.
Write a smol story 8 (InfraredTurbine)

‘Yeah, should i help release it?’ Jan asked, but the officer chuckled to his surprise. ‘Neh, this klotebeestje doesn’t have an owner anymore i think, a stray. But they didn’t had any animal rights to begin with…throw it in the trash, but ehm, i advice you to use the pencil next to it to stick in a wad of that toiletpaper up it’s arse, they tend to shit and stink like a cornfed cow.’
Jan was utterly baffled by the officers exlanation. Seeing Jan’s face, the officer counted fluffies were new to him, and sed ‘…here, lemme show ya…’, and picked up the toiletpaper and rolled it in a wad, got the pencil and stuck it into the wad, grabbed the plastic-stuck fluffy (Bad upsies!), and poked the pencil there where the sun didn’t shine (Nuuu!).
Then the officer handed Jan the plastic wrapped fluffy. ‘…you can’t get convicted if you kick this one…or do worse…’

Around 0430 the boys arrived at the companies headquarters to dump off the load in a bus-sized industrial trash-compactor, and Jan was in the van of the officer who gave him the fluffy, and two others on the back seat.
The fluffy himself was still strapped in plastic which was wrapped to the radio-antenna by Jan, and with an agressive brake-manoeuvre by the driving officer to stop the vehicle, the antenna was shaking violently back and forth under the fluffies weight and cars g-forces. Good the pencil with wad of paper was still in.
The boys laughed their asses off hearing the fluffy screaming in agony through the open window (Huuuuuhuuu! Nu wike!).
Once out of the truck, the boys started unloading the trashbags from the back into the lowered lifting part of the compactor.
Nearly done, Jan ‘helped’ the fluffy off its awkward position. ‘Wai so meanie?’ the fluffy asked. ‘Because fuck you, that’s why!’ the officer replied, who had seen Jan taking off the fluffy, and grabbed a leaf-blower and walked towards Jan.
‘Hey Jan, can you give it to me?’ and Jan tossed the fluffy (Nuuu!) to the officer, who loaded ‘it’ into the barrel, and started yanking the startercord, and with a roar the engine started and as the officer flicked the switch to max, the fluffy hurtled with a ‘Screeeeee’ through the air, over the heads of the co-workers who witnessed laughingly,‘its’ landing.
The fluffy hitted one of the upper metal walls of the lift of the compactor, instantly breaking ‘its’ neck on impact, landing the fluffy on top of the pile trashbags.
Still in agony, the fluffy was cryingly complaining ‘it’ couldn’t move ‘its’ ‘weggies’ while the boys stared with joy how the fluffy was suffering. ‘A’right, that’s nuff, let’s close it up’ the officer sed after a few seconds, and Jan walked to the controlpanel on the side of the machine and started pushing the buttons, and slowly, the lift went up slowly to dump the load into the pusher section.
The fluffy, who was on top, ended up on the metal bottom (Wowstest head huwties!), Jan saw through the viewingport and all other trash followed while the lift closed off the pushersection, landing the other trash on top.
Thats were the pusher started moving…The boys started walking closer toward the machine to keep hearing the fluffy babbling in panick. ‘Nu wike meanie huggies! Stawhp! Wai bawkie-munstah am hewe foebah-sweepies? Nu wan huggies, NU WAN!’
And it all ended with a classic ‘SCREEEEEEEE’ and the popping of poopie-pressurised fluffy intestines while the pusher hitted it’s max, the boys and officers nearly scat and pissed their pants laughing, Jan even harder, because he just came up with an idea.

A few months later.
Jan woke up from barking in the middle of the night. He was home again, and the neighbours outside dog couldn’t shut up, again.
A minute or what later he was outside, next to the fence the dog was located, and the barking madness intensified…but this time he wouldn’t kick the dog, or harm the critter in any way.
Jan grabbed a fluffy out of his pocket. ‘Wai Daddeh teak Fluffy out in dawkie-time? Wai Bawkie-munstah bawkies?’ the fluffy asked. ‘Bawkie-munstah wants to be your friend.’ ‘Nyu fwend? Yay!’ ‘Yes, yay. Go give your new friend a hug.’ Jan sed placing the fluffy near an opening of the fence.
The fluffy couldn’t wait to meet his new friend and went in. ‘Hewwo nice bawkie-munstah, wan hugg…’.
Jan was listening how the fluffy was giving a satisfying death-scree while the dog was eating. Finally Jan found a way to shut up the dog.
Back in the bedroom Jan’s wife asked; ‘Couldn’t you just use some cheap meat?’ ‘Yeah, but you know Fluffies are cheaper, schat…’ Jan replied with an evil grin on his face.

Write a smol story 8 (InfraredTurbine) - Fluffy Image Self-Posting - FluffyCommunity (fluffy-community.com)

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lmao

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Haha, fuck. That’s a hell of a visualization!

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