Several hours had passed since Chris had transported the unconscious fluffies to their new home of the fortified pig pen. The pen which he affectionately called, Château d’fluff; was designed to be a hopeless and uncomfortable place for its tenants. The ground was damp and muddy, ideal for a pig but disgusting for a fluffy with thick fur. The pen was partitioned off into four sections, each having an old feeding troth and a container for water. Each section had a meager shelter, that was not remotely large enough to accommodate each partition’s inhabitants. The new inmates of Château d’fluff were still unconscious and unaware of their surroundings, the lilac oil keeping them in a deep slumber. Unfortunately for them, they were in for an incredibly rude awakening.
Chris had only slept for a few hours, waking up early in the morning to begin the first phase of the herds punishment. Today would be the easiest day for the fluffies, In-doc and a Captain’s Mass to assign out punishments. It was four thirty in the morning, an unreasonable time for most sensible people but Chris isn’t what you’d call a sensible person. He grabbed some supplies: an airhorn, a pair of pliers, his foal’s sorry stick, and a reel of fishing wire. These items would be essential to what Chris had instore for his unwelcome guests. Walking out into the darkness, Chris noted to himself how quickly the temperature had crashed. It wouldn’t be enough to make the herd freeze to death, but it would certainly keep them miserable. Chris got to the pen and looked at the sleeping inhabitants, their peaceful sleep disgusted him. This wouldn’t last long; Chris would make sure of that. He raised the airhorn into the air and depressed the button for a solid 10 seconds, shocking the pen’s inhabitants awake.
A chorus of screes and crying filled the cold air, as the fluffies came to realize they were no longer in the wonderful safe room. The foals snuggled up close to their mothers, with the remaining fluffies panicking. Where were they, and what was going on? The fluffies looked above to see Chris staring down at them, with a look of contempt. Now they remember the night before, where the monster human came with his loud sorry stick and wrecked their lovely room while the suddenly fell asleep. Sadly, they have been forever cast out of that fluffy heaven for what can only be surmised as Hell.
In a commanding voice Chris shouted to the fluffies, “Alright Shit-Rats, Welcome to your new home. I am only going to tell you the rules once, so you better listen”.
This was to be their new home? It was worse than their old one in the forest! The fluffies complained and cried, their high-pitched whines like nails to a chalk board. Chris screamed at them, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!”, causing the terrified fluffies to silence their complaints. Chris resumed with his speech, walking back and forth to make sure he made eye-contact with each shit-rat. “As I was saying, this is what you can expect living in your new living quarters. I will wake you up early every morning, and it will not be pleasant”. Chris then stared directly at the mares and foals and resumed his speech. “I will feed you assholes once a day at a time of my choosing, so you better learn to ration your food”. Chris smirked s he saw the panic in the fluffies, who yesterday had a feast fit for a king; now reduced to his mercy. Chris then said, directing his attention to the fluffies, “I suggest you find a corner to designate as the head, or you’re going to get real sick real fast”. The Smarty grumbled, his private suite was so small that he would probably be sleeping in his own filth by the next evening.
Chris Surveyed the fluffies and said, “Do any of you shit rats have any questions before I get this show rolling?”. Suddenly a beta-scavenger got up onto his hind legs, he looked at Chris with the most pleading and desperate look.
He asked, “Am Hoomin hewds nu Daddeh?”
Chris felt his blood boil from this question. These stupid shit-rats have the audacity to think he would take care of them, right after what they did to his poor foals? Chris whipped out his foal’s sorry stick and began to mercilessly beat the beta-scavenger as hard as he could. The scavenger screed and cried, desperately trying to manipulate Chris into stopping his relentless assault. He whacked the fluffy relentlessly, knocking its teeth out and breaking its bones. Eventually the fluffy began to wheeze, it then lost consciousness, and then with one hard crack to its skull Chris had killed the dirty shit-rat. The other fluffies looked at Chris, too terrified to even make a peep. Chris screamed at them, “LET ME BE CLEAR, I AM NOT YOUR DADDY! I AM YOUR WARDEN AND YOU SHIT-RATS WILL ADDRESS ME AS SUCH”.
Chris took a moment to calm down and collect himself, he placed the dented sorry stick on a table he had brought outside and resumed his conversation with his captives. “Moving on, we are now going to have a captains mast for your transgressions against the law. I do not expect you all to understand what this is, but I promise you I will have justice for what you’ve done”. Chris took out a book he had brough with him, a small notebook where he kept notes of what each fluffy had done and when. Chris walked over the section holding the smarty, he looked down at the little red bastard with disgust. The Smarty snorted and exclaimed, “Wet Smawty and hewd go, dis am Smawty wand, Go Away!”. He was met with cheers from his loyal subjects, as he grinned defiantly at Chris. Before he could say anything else, he felt himself get lifted up in a single jerking motion. He shrieked from the “Bad upsies” letting lose a stream of shit all over his partitioned part of the pen. Chris brought him close to his face and calmly said to him, “Oh is that right baby-fucker?”. The tried to muster any kind of bravery he had left and said, “Nu dat am bad namsie, fo’ bestest smawty!”. Chris dropped the smarty right into his own shit, walked back to the table to grab the dented sorry stick, and returned to smack him hard has he could in the mouth. The sorry stick knocked out three of the smarty’s teeth, as he just stared blankly back at Chris. No one had ever hurt the smarty like that before, he just stared in disbelief as his mouth filled with the nasty taste of his own blood.
Chris glared back down at the smarty and continued, “Baby-Fucker, you stand accused of the following crimes: Home invasion, several counts of destruction of property, theft of food, five charges of assault, conspiracy to commit murder, the rape of a minor, and grand theft oxygen”. The smarty looked at Chris, fear welled in its eyes as he tried to muster any sort of bravado he could. He shouted back at Chris, “Nu cawe, smawty find hewd wand and gib dummeh babbehs foweba sweepies and enfies”. His herd cheered him on yet again as Chris remained unphased, walking over the enclosure of toughies. He turned a page in his notebook and says to the defiant looking fluffies below him, “Orange-Eyesore, Fat-Fuck, and Shit-Colored-Baby-Fucker; you stand accused of the following: Home invasion, destruction of property, three counts of murder, several counts of assault, several counts of rape of a minor, and gross theft of resources”. Before the toughies could answer, Chris walked to the foal and mare enclosure, directing his attention to the Smarty’s special friend. He turned the page and began once again, “Fat-Bitch, you stand accused of several theft of property, aggravated assault, a single count of murder, and several accounts of infanticide, and clearly gluttony of the highest order”. Chris faces the rest of the herd, he flipped to the final page of writing in his notebook and cleared his throat. He then speaks to the herd, “It is clear you all have participated in these heinous acts against my foals and home. With the power vested in me, I sentence you all to death. I will dole out the proper punishments at my leisure”.
The fluffies cried and whined, they did not want to die. They protested and pleaded, but Chris would have none of it. He took back out the Air Horn and held the button down for a long and annoying sound. The Fluffies shut up and Chris walked himself back to his home, he was hungry and there was a lot that needed to be done.