The rain falls as a group of newborn foals camp out next to their mother underneath a disgusting home. Filth lines every inch of the box they currently call home; afterbirth, shit and piss, even dried blood. The foals peep and chirp looking for their mother to touch them, look at them, acknowledge them. However, the unnamed crimson mother rests, ignoring their peeps. She could not give herself a name as fluffies were unable to do so due to their genetic programming, which caused them so many problems in hindsight. The mother rests into the night as the bright-time fades, rain still pounding on the roof of the now deforming box. As the night goes on, a hole begins to form in the roof, leaving a small but steady drip of water. The first dropped plapped directly onto a sky blue foal, staining the front half of his fluff but hydrating him all the same.
âmummah wheaw? Mummah wheaw? Hunnies nee miggeâ the blue foal thought to itself, roused out of its peeps by the drop of water. It was far too young to see, nevermind be a talkie-babbeh. It delved right back into the ear-piercing chirps despite no response from his mother.
He was shoved out of the way by his navy blue sister, barging her way for a drink. She was far worse off than her brother. Her button nose, velvet ears and silky coat were reduced to a coagulated mess of bodily fluids sticking to every inch of her body. Her lips were cracked, bleeding with every harsh breath she took in attempting to run over to the dripping water. She stood weakly on her hind legs, already skeletal body reaching out for liquid salvation.
She waited for an eternity. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, searching for something, ANYTHING to quench her thirst. Her back legs began to fail her. She jumped in place, reaching for that one drop, but as she came down her back left leg bent the wrong way. The filly screamed, reaching for her now broken kneecap but unable to reach and give it the bestest huggies to make it all better.
The mother stirred from her sleep in a rage, angry that anyone, especially her BABBEHS, would wake her up from sleep. She stood and peered down at her newly broken filly.
âDUMMEH BABBEH! Mummah es sweepin! Nuâ wakies from dummeh babbehs wike yu. Shud fwow en twashees oâ gib to munchie munstah!â
She looked upon the two infants with petty anger, sleepily spitting out empty threats about how she would give them forever-sleepies if they woke her up again. The navy filly, unable to understand what her mother was saying to her, kept sobbing and screaming about her increasingly bloody and broken leg. The broken end of the femur began sticking out of the fillyâs thigh, pushing her into further agony. The light blue foal toddled to the corner of the ever-soaked and beginning to collapse box and huddled by himself, silently huu-huuing.
âYU NU UNNASAN?? MUMMAH SEH KWIET!!â The mother stomped on her fillyâs pelvis. It shattered instantly, along with the connections to her legs. The filly screeched, and her mother and sibling covered their soft ears with their hooves to block out the wailing. The pain of the event had apparently breached her maturation coding, allowing her to prematurely speak and see for the first time.
The very first thing the filly saw was two shades of red. Her hazel eyes blinked and then peered at the trunklike appendage that was seemingly attached to herâŚand then the second shade of red, which was coming out of her.
BOOBOOJUICEBOOBOOJUICE BOOBOOJUICEBOOBOOJUICEBOOBOOJUICEBOOBOOJUICE her brain fired.
She screeched more and more.
ââUBBA!! OWDEE!! WUBBIE! NU HUWBTEEE!â she pleaded, as her mother retreated to a separate corner of the box.
âShaddep, babbeh. Oâ gibâ foweba sweepie.â
The filly cried to herself, long into the morning hours. Unfortunately, her wailing attracted some unsavory guests. Her cries crescendo as a golden snout breaks into the soggy home, sniffing the three fluffies and lips formed in a snarl. Funnily enough, the species that was friendliest to humans had a vicious bone to pick with fluffies.
âEEP! BAâ MUNSTA!â the mother peeps, reverting to an infantile state at the terror of the all-too-familiar intruder. In a matter of moments, the sorry excuse for a ceiling was opened to reveal three malnourished and bloody fluffies. In the stress of the sudden attack, the sky blue foal opened his eyes as well. Unlike his sister, his first sight was a forty lumen flashlight. Incidentally, it burned out his retinas as soon as he laid eyes on the beam. He flipped on his back and began to flail his legs about, dislocating its hind legs in the process.
âDad, itâs just another family. Can we go now? These morning runs are making me too tired for school.â
The father of the young boy stared him in the eyes. âTake a look, son. What do you see?â
âOh noâŚthe momâŚstomped the babyâŚâ
âYep. And what have you learned?â
ââŚthat theyâreâŚbadâŚ?â the clearly tired boy squeaked out.
âHey! Look at you! Maybe you will take after your old man after all!â
âWhateverâŚshould we grab them? Or can we please leave themâŚorâŚâ
âWell. Thatâs up to you junior partner!â the father said with a wink.
The boy sat deep in thought for a moment, almost drifting off to sleep. His eyes opened once more, and met the navy blue fillyâs hazel eyes, wracked with pain and suffering.
âAlright Dad. Hereâs the plan. Clearly the mom dislikes her babies, or at least one of them, and itâs not even for colors. I think we take her home, and you get to deal with her in the basementâŚâ he trailed off with a shudder. He continued, ââŚand I take the broken baby.â
The father looked on with a questioning face. âThe broken one? Why? Itâs worthless.â
âDadâŚlook at her. Sheâs clearly sad, and I think at least some fluffies should be comfortable during their deaths.â
âGuess you got some of your motherâs genes too huh kid,â he said with a smile. âLetâs do it. But what about the other one in the corner? Itâs blind, wonât be much fun.â
âLetâs bring it with us,â the son quickly followed up, âI have a good spot on the path I bring Tucker on.â
At the mention of his name, the yellow lab sitting politely at your feet perks up and looks at you with his adorable face.
As the two men and dog run back home into the sunrise, the family of fluffies jangles about recklessly in the backpack attached to the sonâs back. Their home collapsed and quickly dissolved in the excess rainwater coming from roofs surrounding it.
Their fates were sealed.
The father, son, and loyal dog returned home, exhausted after an hour run back home. The son immediately ran up the stairs and into his bed, wanting to sleep just a bit more before school started. As soon as he closed his eyesâŚ
âETHAN! YOUâRE GONNA BE LATE BUD! CANâT MISS PRACTICE AFTER SCHOOL!â
âSHIT!â Ethan says to himself, eager to make the varsity lacrosse team at his high school. There was a rule at his school; if you missed school, you couldnât go to practice after school. It made sense to Ethan and his father, but both of them wanted to impress the coach for better access to the team, so Ethan aimed to make school every day, and his parents vowed to get him there every single day prepared and on time. Ethan grabbed his clothes from the dryer (freshly put in there by his wonderful mother), including a belt and ironed tie laid on top of the dryer, and quickly got dressed. He realized he smelled like death, and quickly ran to the bathroom to rinse off in the shower. As he entered, a familiar baby voice pierced his ears.
âBABY MISTUH! PWEASE HEWP!!â
âIâm not a fucking baby. I donât hate you, but Iâm not helping a shitty mother like you with anything.â
ââŚthough I might take you and your babies out of the shower so I can use it.â
The mother made the âuppiesâ pose, wanting hugs and love from Ethan. He grabbed her by her neck fluff and dumped her into the sink, still slick and cold from when his father was shaving earlier.
ân-n-n-nu w-w-i-i-ke c-c-owdiesâŚâ the ungrateful mare squeaked out.
Ethan then held the blind sky blue blind foal and the still surprisingly alive navy filly in his hands.
âGuess we gotta give you names.â
The two peeped at the word ânameâ. Clearly scared to use their newly-acquired voices, as they associated it with the pain they felt, they could still understand what words meant.
âGood,â Ethan thought to himself, catching himself in the process.
âDamnâŚâ he continued in his head, âguess I am like Dad. Wonder if him and mom will like me going into this stuffâŚâ
Looking at the sky blue fluffy, Ethan gave him the name âBluieâ. Changing his gaze to the broken fluffy, wheezing as she laid on her back, he gave her a small kiss on her head. She seemed to enjoy this, cooing at the slight touch that wasnât painful.
âYouâll be Apricot.â
âAbowkot yub nammee!! Fanâoo dayeh!â
âWait shit apricots arenât purple,â Ethan said out loud to the dismay of Apricot, incredibly tired at the morning he had. âSheâs not purple either dumbass,â rattles around his brain. The distraction of being given a name had taken her mind off the excruciating pain in her lower extremities, and the charade ended when her new daddeh didnât like her new name. Lightning bolts of fire shot through Apricotâs ruined leg and pelvis, arcing to the tips of her hooves and back. She howled in pain as water pooled around her eyelids.
âToo early for this. SHIT I GOTTA GET GOING!â Ethan exclaimed, as it was already 6:30AM, and he wasnât even showered yet.
After getting dressed again, him and his father set of for school. On the way there, Ethan was nervous about asking his father a question.
ââŚhey Dad?â
ââŚuh yea? Sorry just a bit tired. Mom and I ran out of coffee. Fuckinâ mail guy is late by a day again.â
âDo you think you can fix Apricot?â
âApri-who?â he asked, unsure as to what his son had just said.
âWellâŚI named the foal and the filly last nightâŚâ
âAnd?â
âI wanna keep the navy one.â
âCalled it. Your mom owes me five bucks. Knew youâd be a hugboxer at some time or another!â the father said, laughing and slightly swerving off the road.
âCMON REALLY DAD?!â Ethan exclaimed, eliciting more laughs from his father.
âYeah yeahâŚâ his father wheezed, calming down. âListen. Iâll get âApricotâ all set while youâre at school,â taking his hands off the wheel and making air quotes at her name, âbut the other two are gonna be lunch meat. Sound fair?â
Ethan was pleasantly surprised. He thought Apricot was a goner for sure. He didnât much care for the other two, and besides, he really wanted a fluffy for the annual âBring Your Fluff To School Dayâ two weeks from now. Last year, he had seen half the senior class making a bonfire from the corpses of the fluffies they bought specifically for the school event, and this year, he was thinking about maybe joining inâŚif he had a fluffy he hated enough.
As the father and son pulled into the driveway of the school, they bid their goodbyes. And from the moment he left the car until the moment his father picked him up, he was thinking about one thing:
Apricot.
âRotten ass kid wants to keep a fluffy in my houseâŚâ Ed thought to himself, before quickly correcting himself.
âNah, heâs a good kid. Plus, his mom will love having a disabled fluffy in the house.â
Edâs wife, Julia, was just as much an abuser as him, but didnât act on it as much. But when she didâŚhell hath no fury like a woman who hates a biotoy.
Ed made the short drive back home, thinking about the filly that laid in the sink at home, and how he would fix her for his son. When he arrived home, he didnât even think about the fluffies. He went straight to bed, utterly exhausted from the morning run and drive.
âThree more years of thisâ he thought to himself, âthen no more runs. I can sleep in again, finallyâŚâ
He drifted off to sleep, and was awoken at 9:30AM by the trio of screaming fluffies.
He raced to the bathroom, wearing nothing, as was his typical sleeping attire.
âWHAT THE GODâS NAME ARE YOU THREE DIPSHITS SCREECHING ABOUT??â he loudly yelled, causing all three fluffies to shit themselves in fear.
The mother cut the silence with a meek âbabbehsâŚbein bahââŚneed foweba sweepie foâ wakie up mummah.â
âCool. Guess youâre first then.â
Ed grabbed the pink mother by her mane, tearing out tufts of fluff in the process as he tried to get a solid grip.
âSTOP FUCKING MOVING!â Ed commanded, and the fluffy obliged. The pink mummah whimpered silently as her new daddâno, captor,âdragged her to what seemed like the pits of Hell itself.
Illuminated in front of her was a dungeon, there was no other word to describe the home-crafted basement.
The small windows were tinted black and barred with steel rods thick enough so no shitrat could escape.
Every flat surface was made of stone. The floor was made of uneven concrete than caused some ponies to trip, fall, and shatter their teeth on the cold floor. The walls were made of black bricks, created by Ed using a particular agent that was harmful to fluffy biology. Essentially, it cooked them from the inside if they remained within the room for too long. The ceiling was flat concrete, with fixed lights buzzing like a hive of vengeful insects looking for a meal.
The mother was terrified, to say the least.
âMy son give you a name, shitrat?â
The fluffy frowned, tears forming in her eyes.
âMummah nu wike dat namesââ
âDID. MY. SON. GIVE YOU. A NAME. SHITRAT.â
âHUUUHUUUUU NU HAF NAMESIE!! NYU DADDEH GIF PWEASâ??â
âSo you really are feral. And bony too!â
âFee-wow?â
âYeah. From the street. No owner.â Ed spat.
âB-buhâŚyu am daddies? Wite?â
Ed laughed in the detestable creatureâs face.
âYou lived without a daddy, and now youâll wish youâd died without one.â
Ed began the sawblade that was attached to his workbench. He began to slide the mummah on the sheet of wood she was attached to towards the spinning blade.
Ed whistled an electric tune as the saw cut through skin, muscle, sinew, and then bone. He could barely hear the screams. He learned how to drown them out yeeears ago.
As each leg came off one by one, the straps that held her in place were freed, leaving the frantic fluffy able to escape.
She screamed until her throat was hoarse, and then some. She spat up blood after five minutes, unable to speak. She then attempted to flip herself rightside-up, but, now lacking the legs to do so, and only caused more pain for herself and her captorâs ears.
âShut the fuck up and listen, rat.â
She immediately did so, for fear of more huwties.
âYouâre gonna be a milkbag. I know you donât know what it is, but youâll experience it first hand.â
âFWUFFY KNO WHAâ DAT IS!! FWUFFY KNOW!! NU HUWTIES CAUâ KNO??â
âHow innocent. No.â
The bad word rattled in her brain as Ed placed her back-first into a machine that locked around her waist and shoulders. Ed watched in amazement as the âBagger-3000â worked its magic, roughly inserting the waste tubes in the motherâs asshole and stomach, and filled the rest of her extremities with dry-fast super glue. Only her eyes remained mobile, iris flitting around the eyeball like a game of Pong.
You know she could barely hear you as the super glue dried in her ear, but Ed spoke out a message anyways.
âThis will be the last thing you ever hear, rat. Not your babies, that you hate, not your special friend, and certainly not the loving words of an owner. You are beneath trash. You are a disgusting hybrid of natural-born creatures. You should not exist. You are a BAD FLUFFY, just like every single one of you that there are. I hope you donât rest easy, shit rat. I hate yââ
The glue had set.
The last message she would hear, filled with hate and vitriol.
Ed left the mother on the workbench, eager to return with the filly and foal. He marched back upstairs to retrieve them; one to fix, one for fun.
Ethan was nervous to ask his father about Apricot. He had a sinking feeling that he had killed her, like every other fluffy that entered their house. He saw the look in her eye when he touched her; it was sincere. She loved him like no other. He was the first one to ever give her love, no matter how deformed she was. He decided to wait until he got home after practice to ask.
The drive home was awkward, to say the least, in the eyes of Ethan that is.
For Ed, it was a regular day at the office.
As soon as Ed put the truck in park in the driveway at home he said to his son,
âGot a surprise for you in the bathroom. Go ahead and get her.â
Ethan flew out of the truck, eager to see his fluffy and her condition.
His happiness sank when he saw Apricot.
She was a mess of bleeding stitches around her broken knee and hips. His father had taken eighty percent of her fluff to âhelpâ with the surgery. It did, but now she looked like one of the fluffy stuffed animals Tucker ripped up all the time. She peeped and gasped as Ethan gingerly picked her up and placed her in his hand. She was bawling her eyes out, lips cracked with dehydration. She clung to Ethanâs thumb for dear life, not wanting to let go, let her good owner away from her.
Ethan stroked her rough skin softly, and she cooed between sobs.
She spoke out, in her undeveloped voice, surprising Ethan.
âAâŚahbâŚabbacawt yubâŚyub yu!â
His heart was touched. He thought he loved her too.
Two weeks later.
Ethan was incredibly excited for the Bring Your Fluffy to School Day. He decided to not cremate Apricot, as the two became very close. Her fur began to grow back in, albeit with large bald spots, and Ed had pitched in to buy her a leggie-wheelchair so she could walk around with her ravaged lower half. The night before, he had put together all of his clothes on his bed. His new outfit was sure to impress the entire school. He had even volunteered to talk about Apricot and what happened to her!
He would have to lie, obviously. âCanât expose me like that!â Ed exclaimed angrily when Ethan told him the news. âThey would crucify us! Thereâs not another abuser for fifty miles!â
He shook the thought out of his head. He didnât want any anxiety going into tomorrow, he already had enough with being on the lacrosse team now.
The next morning, Ethan rocketed out of bed, eager to wake Apricot for their big day ahead! He ran over to her pad in the corner of his room, putting her in her wheels. As she fully woke up, she ran around in a circle excitedly. Some of her language had been progressing, but only past infancy stage. It wouldnât get past the lowest fluffyâs IQ.
âDayyeh! Suâ sited foâ skoowies!!!â
âMe too âCottie! Weâre gonna do great in front of everyone today!!â
As Ethan began his usual morning routine with a little more energy today, he asked his father to leave early for school.
âReally? Why today?â
ââŚwhy is the shitrat up.â
âGUâ SKOOWIES WIF DAYYEH!â
Ed paused for a moment, then turned beet red. He collapsed to the floor in laughter.
âYOUâRE GONNA BRING THAT THING TO SCHOOL? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!â
âWhatâs so funny about it? Itâs a day where students bring their fluffies to school and show them off.â
Still cackling, Ed spat out âTheyâre still doing that?? Back when I was there it was dogs. Sad shitâŚahahahahahaaha!!!â
âCan we just go.â
Ethan tucked Apricot into his front shirt pocket, still excited for the day.
When Ethan arrived, he immediately regretted it.
Apparently, every one of his friends hated fluffies. He had never thought to ask.
And he was the only one who brought one in. In the entire school
Apricot hid within Ethanâs pockets, driven nauseous by the vile looks from all four high school grade levels.
She didnât know why the meanies were looking at her they way they were, but she knew that as long as she was near daddeh, he would make everything better. After all, he turns your dummeh-weggies into wheelie-leggies every morning! Humans are so magical, she thought. As she bounced within the deep shirt pocket, her daddeh came to an abrupt stop. There were some meanie-words said, daddeh had booboo juicesâŚshe thoughtâŚ
âŚand as she saw the red liquid, she was catapulted back to her infancy in the cardboard box. When her mummah called her bad. When she did the thingâŚ
âŚat the thought of the bad times, Apricot did the only thing fluffies know how to do well; she shit herself.
As the warm, wet feeling hit Ethanâs skin through the pocket, he knew he was caught. Apricot had let herself go in his pocket due to the yelling and jostling.
His friends were messing with him, asking if the rumor that he had brought in one of those shitrats was true, and grabbing his shoulders and shaking him around. They even squirt a ketchup packet at him. Ethan tried to laugh it off and pretend Apricot wasnât in his pocket, but she had alerted the world to her presence.
âAUGH DUDE!? WHATS THAT SMELL??â
Ethan froze, trying to come up with an excuse.
He had none.
Despondently, he whisperedâŚ
âCheck the pocket.â
As Apricot heard three words come out of her daddehâs mouth, she opened her eyes. She didnât want to see the munstahs.
But the munstahs wanted to see her.
In one swift movement, the friend next to Ethan tore off his pocket.
Ethan felt time go incredibly slow. He locked eyes with Apricot and saw her pleading eyes. But there was no forgiveness in his heart. She had ruined the charade; he was supposed to reveal her later as his fluffy on the stage, but she soiled it. And she had soiled him.
Apricot slammed chair-first into the table the students were sitting around. She looked up at nine pairs of young adult eyesâall with murderous intent. ThisâŚapparently included her daddeh. He was very angry, or so it looked like. She tried to wheel her way to her daddeh, but he stood up and stepped back.
He could do nothing, or, rather, chose to do nothing, as a pair of hands descended upon her. She was picked up by her right wheel and left dangling in the air, dangerously close to slipping out of her chair.
âDAYYEH EEFEEN!! PWEE SAYâ APPOWCOWT!â
âDADDY ETHAN?â a blonde-haired boy scoffed. âDude. You shoulda told us. We would have taken her off your hands a lot earlier.â
Ethan looked at him sheepishly. He didnât want to hate her too fast.
âWellâŚsheâs sorta my pet. My dad and I found her a few weeks back. Sheâs been living with me.â
The other boy holds back a laugh and snorts.
âAlright man. Iâll give her back, cause of your shirt. You probably shouldnât have brought her here.â
Ethan took a breath. âYeah, probably.â
He held his hand out, and Apricot was swiftly returned. Ethan quickly stuffed her in a small pocket in his backpack, making sure to leave just a little bit of it unzipped so Apricot could breathe. His friends had told him they wouldnât say anything to anybody else about Apricot.
But as high schoolers do, they talk. And the rumor that Ethan Willow had a fluffy on him spread through the school like wildfire.
If his friends treated him badly over the fluffy, what the rest of the student body rained upon him was unholy. Insults walking through the hall, seniors expecting to see the âlittle bundle of joyâ, and then holding her by her chair and flicking her nose until it got bloody.
This was no hazing event. Ethan was too preoccupied with getting ready for Fluffy Day that he forgot to check this yearâs memoâŚ
He sat down for his last class of the day before the big reveal.
The big reveal.
âOhno.â Ethan said under his breath. He had totally forgotten about the reveal of Apricot and the show.
He stood up immediately, leaving Apricot in her backpack pocket. He sprinted out of the classroom and to the headmaster of the show.
In between deep breaths, he tried explaining his newfound position.
âGASP have fluffy GASP cant do show GASP everyone hates GASP fluffies GASPâ
The director furrowed his brow.
âYou brought a fluffyâŚto a high schoolâŚand didnât expect all of this?â
ââŚI guess notâŚâ
âRude awakening, Willow. Iâm not letting you back down. We need to promote fluffies and their protection, not their harm.â
Exasperated, Ethan walked back to his class, incidentally at the same time as his teacher.
âLate today, are we Mr. Willow?â
âBackpackâs already in there. Had to run to the office.â
âStill lateâŚyouâre excused this time,â the teacher said with a smile. âYou have that big assembly later! Iâm sure it had something to do with that.â
Ethan gulped.
His final class went by as if he was stuck in molasses. He had asked to go to the bathroom, but was laughed out of it by the rest of the class, as they thought he wanted to clean his fluffyâs shit off his backpack. This elicited a quiet huuuuu as the teacher told the class to be silent; the class, including the teacher, then erupted into laughter at the psychological suffering of the infant fluffy. She continued crying until Ethan asked permission to hold her, which was granted by his teacher.
Almost instantly, Apricot shit herself.
The minutes ticked by. The assembly was nearing.
The class phone rang. It was for him.
His teacher had beckoned him towards the front of the classroom to tell him a message.
âGrab your little friend and head to the auditorium. Itâs time to go!â
Ethanâs blood ran cold.
âO-O-O-okâŚâ he sputtered out.
âNervous, are we?â the teacher asked.
âY-you could say thatâŚâ
Of course, every student knew why he was so jumpy and shaky.
Ethan waited backstage, sat down in a corner while Apricot wheeled herself in a circle, giggling to herself. Suddenly, she looked up at a sad daddeh.
âDayyeh? Wai saddies?â
âARE YOU FOR REAL RIGHT NOW APRICOT?â Ethan barked at his shocked fluffy.
Apricotâs ears were held tight to her head, and she huddled as close to herself as she possibly could. Fluffies donât like when their owners yellâŚ
âYOU CAUSED ALL OF THIS! IF YOU DIDNâT SHIT YOURSELF LIKE THE FUCKING TODDLER YOU ARE YOUâD STILL BE HIDDEN! AND I WOULDNâT HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS SHIT!â
Apricot stared at Ethan, horrified and scared.
âI SHOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU TO DAD!â
As stupid as Apricot was, she knew what this all meant.
Her daddeh didnât want her anymore.
She sat down, right where she was, and began to throw a hissy fit only feet from the stage curtain.
âOOâ FAIW! OOâ FAIW! DADYEH WUB APPOWCOWT, NU WEAVE WIF SKAWIE DAYYEH!! FUFFIE MAEâ FOâ HUBBIE ANâ OBâ!! HUBBIE ANNNN OBBBBHHHUUUUUUHHUUUUUU!!! DADYEH NU WUBBIES ABBOOWWWCOOAAWWWTTT HHHHUUUUUU-HHHUUUUU!!!â
Ethan looked on with bewilderment. He could her the laughs and snickers coming from the front row.
The lights dimmed as a voice boomed from the loudspeakers.
âLADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME TO THIS YEARâS BRING YOUR FLUFFY TO SCHOOL DAY!â
Boos erupted from the crowd.
A âWEâHATEâFLUFFIES! WEâHATEâFLUFFIES!â chant echoed in the large auditorium.
âAHEM! THE FASTER WE START THE FASTER YOU LEAVE.â
The crowd quieted to barely a whisper.
âTHIS YEAR, WE WILL BE HAVING A FEW MESSAGES FROM THE ASPCA, THE SAVING FLUFFIES SOCIETY, AND THEN OF COURSE, THE TALENT SHOW!â
The speaker paused for applause, but none came. A few snorts and giggles rang out from the corners of the auditorium.
âWell, letâs get on with it,â the loudspeaker boomed, the speaker clearly dejected.
Ethan was still screaming at his sobbing fluffy.
âWHAT YOUâRE GONNA DO IS YOUâRE GONNA GO OUT THERE, WITH YOUR FUCKING DADDEH, AND YOUâRE GONNA DO YOUR LITTLE TRICKS. THEN, WE GO HOME, AND WE SEE WHAT TO DO ABOUT YOU.â
Apricot was in hysterics.
âNUUU DADYEH NUU WUBBIES APPOCAWT!! WANâ BE GOOD FUFFY FOâ DAYEHHUUUUHUUU!!â
She spun around in a circle crying.
The next thing that Ethan knew, he was being tapped on the shoulder by a stagehand.
ââŚeverything okay Mr. Willow?â
âEVERYTHINGâS FUCKING FIâohâŚsorry. Uh, yeah weâll be good in a sec.â
âYou donât have a sec. You gotta go now.â
Ethan went pale. He squat down to attempt to comfort Apricot.
He picked her up, and held her in his arms. He stroked her fluff, and told her that everything was going to be okay. That he wasnât really upset, just nervous, and that they could get through this together. He assured her that she would cuddle up next to him in his nice warm bedsies, forever and ever.
He lied through his teeth.
âONCE AGAIN, HERE IS ETHAN WILLOW!â
Ethan and Apricot walked out onto the stage, illuminated by a spotlight. Ethan waved at the crowd, while Apricot attempted to do the same, but only succeeded in making her position in her daddehâs arms more uncomfortable.
The announcer handed Ethan the microphone, with a sarcastic âgood luckâ and a chuckle as he walked offstage.
Ethan gulped at the quiet crowd.
He observed their facesâŚ
âŚthey were all angry, bloodthirsty, or some combination of the two.
âUhmâŚhey everyoneâŚmy name is Ethan Willow. Iâm uhâŚa sophomore hereâŚand for Fluffy DayâŚI, uh, brought my fluffy, Apricot. Can you say âhi everyoneâ, Apricot?â
She peeked out from under his arms. He put the microphone right next to her mouth, as to not miss her sentence.
âH-he-hewo ebbywun!â
The crowd remained silent, save for a few oohs and aaws from hugboxers that apparently roamed your school.
âWell, Apricot is a special fluffy.â Ethan set her down on the ground.
YET AGAIN, she shit herself in fear.
Ethan heard a smack from beside the curtain, and see the principal of his school holding his forehead in his palm. He could practically feel the audienceâs blood boiling.
âUHM uhâŚmy dad and I rescued her from the street, we found her on a run. She had an accidentâ
âYEAH, NO SHITâ echoes through the crowd.
âand she has been living with us ever since. She has become very special to meâŚâ
Ethan could feel his confidence rising.
ââŚand sheâs amazing, despite her bad legs! She has a wheelchair, all to herself, look how she runs!â
Apricot begins to run in a circle around her owner, but the tires give out on her on the first turn.
She is left sobbing at your left foot, on her side. Stuck.
All it took was one mistake for the crowd to erupt.
An explosion of jeers, slurs, and various throwable materials rained upon Ethan and Apricot.
âHUGGIE-FAG!â
âFLUFF-FUCKER!â
âPASTEL PUSSY!â
Ethan was flushed red, almost as red as his father when he laughed.
For Ethan, it was embarrassment. He stood in the same spot, staring at Apricot. The microphone dropped from his hand and hit the wooden stage. An empty plastic bottle hit the side of his head, knocking him out of his short trance.
He scooped Apricot from her side position. The wheelchair remained on the stage.
He took off for his belongings behind the curtain. Apricot was screaming and crying in Ethanâs arm, disliking the humiliation she had just undergone and hating her current situation.
No legs. No babbehs. No daddeh that loves her.
âWuâ ehâ babbehs?â Apricot thought to herself, momentarily.
She was interrupted by the banging of doors opening.
As quickly as he could, Ethan sprinted out of the front doors of the school and to his home. An hour later, a sweaty and only slightly out of breath Ethan arrived home. His father was there, scrolling on his phone absentmindedly.
âHey, youâre home early! You see theââ
âI want to kill Apricot. Now.â
âAhhhh, finally come to this side. Letâs go,â his father said, with a devilish grin worn on his face.
Ethan didnât love Apricot anymore.
It was time for her to go.
apricot is fucked