This is not part of our Fluffies Take Flight Theme Week.
I am having a really shitty week. Between the problems at my job and the problems in my country, I’m pretty thoroughly pissed off.
I had considered commissioning @infraredturbine to do this, (you’ll see why, in a moment) but since all of my money has to go toward finding and securing motherfucking gasoline this week, I’ll just have to put the idea out there for anyone to pick up.
A particular scene from Fight Club keeps coming to mind.
And it occurs to me that I really want to see someone stalking from office to office pumping round after round into co-workers and colleagues.
But not bullets.
Instead, I want to see them firing a t-shirt launcher full of fluffy foals or microfluffs at their co-workers.
(I suppose you could use malnourished pillowfluffs, too)
Preferably this ammunition might have devastating effects.
I imagine the fluffies excitedly flying through the air, blissfully unaware of how their brief ballistic voyages will end.
Here are a couple of pieces of media that can be used as references .
This is not part of our Fluffies Take Flight Theme Week.
This is an abuse-centric request that would merely make me feel better.
Aw, I’m glad you thought about me <3
yeah my week is a shit so far… My ADHD is fucking me up these days --’
but I saw about this whole gas problem on the news
thought it was something to solve in like 2 days, but it seems the thing is serious now ._.
I intend to publish a story where my mad scientist creates a breed of Fluffies who produce poison gas upon death. I actually already have it mostly finished, the problem being my chapter one needs to progress from road trip to experimenting in a Hasbio science bunker in Cleveland, Raccoon City/Fallout style.
Collecting dead ferals in the area for dissection she finds several examples of dead Stallions or Mummahs without visible injuries bu a stomped Foal. She finds they had an organ in their necks that released a noxious gas. Some folks come to Cleveland to gather Fluffies for Stomping Day in four months, ruining one of her experiments. So she develops the neck organ strain and releases them into the warehouse where the Fluffies are being gathered. Two months later the stomping begins and around half the participants, mostly children, die. She’s been releasing them into the wild during this time, far away from Cleveland.
I referenced this in my last story, Fluffcontrol needs expensive hazmat suits to deal with her “variants” which balloons their budget and turns off casual Abusers who hate the paperwork, insurance, and restrictions.
Long story short, poison gas Foals.
Goes from a gruesome prank to a terrorist attack. But why not?
There was a head canon a while back that had fluffies producing farts that were fatal to humans but harmless to fluffies after eating boysenberries, I believe.
Would you mean like the person is shooting fluffies at the office like they hate the place they work at so it’s like a fluffy-themed workplace shooting, or like a lighthearted bring-your-fluffy-to-work day that turns out to have devastating and messy consequences?
