Actaeon was a Smarty. Not just any Smarty, a cream of the crop, bestest babbeh Smarty. The kind of insufferable asshole that made people want him to suffer from cosmic retribution. Tragically, none such experience had happened to him in his privileged life. He was a domestic Fluffy, having lived a pampered life of Fluff TV, all the toysies he could ask for, and Sketti. Heaps and heaps of Sketti. He was given everything he had ever asked for. Except for one thing. The day his life was ruined, was the day he was told “No.”
“DUMMEH DADDEH, AK-TAY-ON WAN SPESHAL FWEND!” Actaeon shrieked with his whiny bratty voice.
“For the last time, NO! I can’t afford to look after another Fluffy! And I certainly can’t afford to feed babies!” his human owner shouted.
The audacity! Actaeon threw a tantrum there and then. No matter how hard he stomped, kicked, shrieked and wailed, his daddeh wouldn’t give in. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when he caught Actaeon closing in on a sobbing feral mare who had wandered into their backyard because she got lost trying to find her nest.
The last time he ever saw his daddeh was when he took Actaeon into his giant vroom vroom and drove him to the city, dropping him off by the side of the road and abandoning him.
Actaeon was living the street feral life now. And it was hard. The Fluffy was used to humans tending to his needs, and he couldn’t comprehend the fact that he had to find his own nummies and sleepy place now. Toysies were out of the question.
Actaeon grumbled and he marched down the street. Up ahead, a truck belonging to a food factory had gotten into an accident. The vehicle was on its side, and was leaking it’s precious contents onto the street. What humans saw as a disaster, Actaeon only saw an obstacle.
“Dummeh vwoom vwoom munstah! GU WAY NAO!” Actaeon demanded. The truck, being an inanimate object unsurprisingly didn’t respond. And so Actaeon did what any Smarty would do to something that dared to defy him. He gave it a good strong kick.
The container sprung a leak and completely soaked Actaeon with it’s contents: warm, delicious, appetising gravy.
“SCREEEE! AK-TAY-ON NU WIKE POOPIE WAWA!” the Smarty shrieked.
Some time later, Actaeon came across a certain side alley. He was tired. He was hungry. He got drenched in what he thought was poopie water. Most of all, be was pissed.
There was a poster on the wall with a picture of two Fluffies on it, a pink pointy Fluffy and a brown not-pointy Fluffy. The text on the sign was a warning: Property of Ludlow Estate. Abusers will be fined $10,000.
It was meant as a warning for any human who would attempt to steal, torture or kill any of the Fluffies belonging to the millionaire’s late wife. This particular pink fluffy, despite being a street feral, was born within the forested grounds of Mr Ludlow’s estate, and thus he had the fluffy tracked down and marked with his company’s logo on her flank like some sort of corporate cutiemark.
Unfortunately, Actaeon was a Fluffy. And so be couldn’t read. All he saw was a pretty mare. The poopie babbeh, who cared about it? Actaeon ran through the alley and at the end, he saw her.
A pink Fluffy and her babbeh were curled up inside a cardboard box, sleeping peacefully. Actaeon got heart eyes instantly. Finally… A special friend! His own twisted idea of a special friend was a mare that he could mate with any time that he liked whether she wanted it it not. Just an object, a new toy. And she would provide his babbehs with all the milkies they needed to grow big and strong. Any girl babbeh? Just more mating toys.
She would be the perfect new toy.
It would be that day that the cosmic retribution finally came for him. The reason why the gravy truck had gotten into an accident was because it had been in a head on collision with a truck transporting several dogs to a pet shelter to be adopted. In the crash, several dogs had escaped and were now roaming the streets. And they were hungry as well.
Actaeon heard barking behind him, and he turned just in time to see a pack of dogs charging right at him. Drawn by the scent of gravy, the dogs immediately ripped into his flesh, devouring him alive. Actaeon’s screaming lasted until they tore his throat out. In a few minutes, all that remained was a pile of bones. Satisfied by their delicious gravy coated meal, the dogs happily scampered off.
Slushie poked her head out of her cardboard box home. She had been woken up by terrifying noises, and all she could see was some random Fluffy’s skeleton in front of her home.
“Wut da fukk?” she muttered, confused and a little bit mortified at the sight. For a brief moment, she could have sworn that she could hear the distant sound of someone laughing hysterically in the skies above, but she could not see where the sound was coming from.
Slushie yawned and went back to sleep. Some Fluffy schmuck just had a VERY bad day, but it wasn’t her problem.