Bob woke up feeling groggy. He had been puzzled as to why he was so depressed after Dyer broke. Was he feeling bad about it? No. Was it because he is loosing the joy he feels in torturing semi-sentient chimeras? No. It was eating him up inside. Then it hit him, the mill ruined her before he got his hands on her. Dyer was already partially broken and brainwashed before. It explained why she was willing to kill and eat the foals, why she just accepted that her foals changed color and lost their wings, and accepted her fate as a foal factory. While this eased his mind at first, it slowly began to piss him off.
As he was seething in anger, he had an epiphany. This picking up ferals and torturing them wasn’t the best way to go about getting his abuse fix. If he had a mill of his own, he could torture fluffies at his leisure and make money at the same time. He actually knew of just the place to set up shop too. All he needed was an investor or better yet, a business partner.
Getting out of bed, he made sure to feed and water the fluffies then made a call to an old friend and former co-worker. “Hey Luke, long time no talk.”
“…”
“Look, I’m sorry about the Deary incident and the stuff with your sister.”
Luke sighs, “What’s this about?”
“Glad you asked, I have a business proposal.”
“I’m listening.”
“You know that old farm store on Barley street? Well I was thinking, why not buy it and use the land as a breeding mill and store front. It has a big sound proof basement perfect to keep higher end breeders in and a warehouse they once used for machinery for the main breeding area.”
“You know those buildings need work done on them. The warehouse isn’t even insulated.”
“How do you know?”
“Summer job as a teenager.” There is a small pause from Luke. “If I help with this, there will have to be ground rules. I can’t have you torturing fluffies in front of customers or stressing out mothers for no reason.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Depends. To find a way to test products in a lab that no one ever thought of. Yes. To watch a fluffy without turning it into a living sock puppet. No.”
“I said I was sorry about Deary, how was I supposed to know it was the CEO’s daughter’s pet?”
“The fucking nametag.”
“It was a smarty anyways. Hell, after he calmed down, he actually thanked me.”
“Not the fucking point.”
“Look, do you want in or not?”
After about a minute of silence, “You know, I might regret this, but sure. Just tell me one thing, why?”
“Not going to lie, having a supply of fluffies for my hobbies is part of it. So I figured why not breed them, sell them, and take the rejects and fluffies we would incinerate anyways for my own use. Ferals are getting harder and harder to find and people like me and hugboxers are going to run out of fluffies to torture or save.”
“Alright, meet me at the property later. I’ll text you the time after I get in touch with the current owner.”
Without a single goodbye Luke hangs up the phone on Bob. Part of him wondered why Luke was so easy to convince, but better not to look a gift fluffy in the mouth.
Luke was a little dumbfounded after the call with Bob. He knew the only reason he called him about this was because Luke had the money to make things happen. With a small sigh Luke started to call some people and get all the transactions in order. Despite the fact that Bob was an insufferable ass at times, this store idea was a good one. Plus, if he stopped finally started actually contributing to society, it would be worth it. A few calls later and he had an appointment set up for 3pm so they could meet at the site with the former owner. Luke had to leave a bit earlier to get the paperwork done at the bank.
Before leaving Luke looked to the small pen he had in the living room. In it was a sullen Trent and a round but still mobile Tundra. They were separated and put in a small pen as punishment for deciding to have special huggies before Tundra was 6 months old. Their reasoning was that what Luke said was just no babies before then, so if Trent pulled out before he came, they wouldn’t have broken Luke’s rules.
Unfortunately, Trent’s pullout game was as weak as Luke’s dad’s was. So now they were stuck down here with no toys besides a single block. Yes, the fact that a single block wasn’t enough to actually play with was a bit of twisted torture for the two fluffies that were 4 and 5 months old respectfully. To make it worse, the TV played nothing but documentaries narrated by Ben Stein.
Fern was also in trouble. She was aware of Trent and Tundra’s plan and didn’t tell Luke or try to stop them. If he didn’t need her to keep an eye on Dolly, she would also have been exiled to here. His punishment for the book loving alicorn was to read the entirety of Brave New World. After reading it, she informed Luke that she would never betray him like that again. She also mentioned that pillowing her would have been a kinder punishment.
Dolly was Dolly. She was still dumb as bricks, but it wasn’t her fault. Apparently, the she had brain damage from around when she was born. Probably from Sprinkles’s assault when he first go them. It really didn’t matter. Being partially derped didn’t really do much besides keep her mentally at the age of an adolescent foal, it really only meant that breeding her was a no go.
“Trent, Tundra, I’m leaving for a bit, and before you ask, no the TV stays on this playlist and no new toys. You broke my rules and until the babies are born, this is your punishment.”
“Otay daddeh, Twent undahstan’.”
“Tundwah undahstan’d tuu, daddeh. Twent an’ Tundwah am bad fwuffies an’ deserb this.” Fortunately she didn’t get bitch mare syndrome, but Luke was always monitoring them with hidden cameras and microphones just in case it was a facade.
Luke made double sure that every door and gate were locked in case they were plotting to run away in secret. He doubted they were, but one can not be too careful when dealing with something as inherently stupid and bull headed as a fluffy.
Bob had been waiting for about 15 minutes before Luke showed up. “Good to see you.”
“Likewise. Seeing as I will be the one putting in all the money. I went ahead and purchased the land and all its contents.”
Bob just smiles, “Wouldn’t have it any other way. Don’t worry I know some people who can get the retrofitting done cheaply.”
“Cheaply? You do realize that I will be getting us high end stuff directly from Flufftech at the prices wholesalers pay.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I’m on the board now. Truth be told, the company has been looking at the property for sometime to turn into an offsite testing facility. Jackson was a bit disappointed at first, but the draw of having a store that carries our more harder to get and specialty products would be better in the long run.”
“Holy shit. You don’t half ass anything do you.”
“Nope, and you want to know something interesting?”
“What?”
“They just finished patching holes in the fences recently, and there is apparently a feral herd living in the warehouse.”
“So we potentially have breeding stock? Fuck yeah. Oh, here.” Bob hands Luke a sheet of paper containing all the names and descriptions of the fluffies that escaped from Huggylove acres. “Keep an eye out for fluffies on that list. Some will make great breeders.”
Luke scans the list and sees the name Snowball as well as a description of his fluffies’ mother. “Well you can cross these two off the list. One got beat to death by a smarty unicorn bitch, and Snowball died on my doorstep from shock and exhaustion.”
Bob seems a little miffed at two sparkly gene carriers being dead. “Fuck.”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you they had a litter, and that I had them safe at home. Before you ask, we can’t breed the sparkly female, but there is a sparkly male named Trent with brown fluff and a white mane. He can be a sperm donor.”
Bob’s mouth drops, “That will work, but why can’t we breed the female.”
“One, the three of them are my pets. Two, she is partially derped and wouldn’t understand what was going on.”
“I understand, I have a pet fluffy myself now. Can’t breed her due to complications, but I just love her companionship.” Luke raises an eyebrow. “Plus the fact she is a cannibal fluffy with a cruel streak towards bad mothers is a plus.”
“That makes sense.”
A third car pulls into the parking lot and an old man gets out, “You must be the new owners.”
“Yes, I’m Luke Palmer and this is Robert Crier.” The three men shake hands.
“Travis Morrison. Well, here is the keys to the place. Utilities are all hooked up and payed for til the end of the month. Also, there is an infestation.”
“Of fluffies, we know and have a use for them.”
“Well, saves me a having to call in an exterminator for you.” Morrison then preceded to show the two of them around the property. They caught a glimpse of a couple of the trapped ferals, but Morrison informed them that the bulk were in the warehouse itself. He was also quick to say that the main storefront was completely free of fluffies, and the inspection of the store confirmed it.
After Morrison had left, Bob and Luke got some crates and supplies, including an aluminium baseball bat, out the back of Bob’s van. Bob always had fluffy traps and cages on him in case he found ferals. The main thing was to kill any problem fluffies and grab anything that could possibly become premium breeding stock.
Opening the warehouse door, the smell of fluffy shit immediately hit them. They flicked the lights on and around fifty adult fluffies and an obscene number of foals froze. A blue unicorn with a yellow mane waddled up to them, “Dummeh hoomin this am smawty wand, weab nao.”
“Is he on the list?” asked Bob.
Luke checked the list, “is your name Butane?”
“Smawty nu hab na-”
Thwack
Bob had used the baseball bat he was carrying to smash the smarty’s skull in. “Attention all bitches, line up and bring ALL of your babbehs and soon-mummahs. You are now under new management.”