The introduction of Baxter’s best bud Arnold, my favorite Fluffalo.
"Okay buddy, Daddy is only gonna be gone for three days. You’ve met Sheila before, so don’t try anything or she’ll beat the hell out of you." Baxter shook mightily in his toddler carseat as he practically spit his displeasure at daddy. “Nu! Nu weabe gud Baxtew wif dummeh wady! Dummeh wady haf big siwwy Fwuffawo hu awways bothew Baxtew! An-and dummeh wady smeww funny! Wike daddeh siwwy smokies onwy nu pwetty.”
“Yeah kiddo, that’s because Sheila smokes mids and bathes in patchouli while daddy gets that good shit and mixes it with spearmint. You’re welcome, by the way. Awful judgy for someone who shits as much as you do.”
Baxter closed his eyes and huffed. “Hmph! Dummeh daddeh, Baxtew onwy make gud poopies. Good poopies smeww pwetty daddeh, evwy dummeh knu dat awweddy.”
Daddy rolled his eyes. “Tell me that next time I’m cleaning your litterbox.” Baxter looked away and piped down. “Yeaaah, that’s what I thought. Now weggies up kiddo.” Baxter lifted his front legs and daddy freed him from the confines of the seat.
Daddy stood aside to give Baxter room to depart the spacious Kia Sedona, with its first in class legroom and tapered door panel, it’s perfect for whatever life throws at you. But Baxter put out his legs instead. “Upsies? Pwease?”
“Huh. Only because you’re being suspiciously polite.” Daddy lifted big cool Baxter into his arms and began walking up the dirt path to the house. At the door was a spindly woman with frizzy black hair tied back in a sort of “fuck it it’s out of my eyes” ponytail and coke bottle glasses. Beside her is a Fluffalo about the size of a Malamute. It is, of course, an almost neon green with a weirdly non-vivid lavendar mane.
“MUMMAH, WOOK! NICE MISTUH BWING BAXTEW! JUS WIKE OU SAY!” He started flailing a hoof to wave, having to constantly shift to stay upright. “HEWWO BAXTEW! WEMEMBEW AWNOWD? AWNOWD SU HAPPY FWEND BAXTEW CAME TU SEE AWNOWD!”
“Nuuuuuu…” The cry came meekly from poor poor put upon Baxter, whose life is so so hard. “Awnowd tu wowd, Baxtew nu wike.” Dad chuckled. “Well why don’t you tell him? I’m sure Sheila won’t let him give you stompies too bad.”
“Baxtew twy dat! Dummeh fwuffawo am tuu dummeh. Fink Baxtew pway gamesie. Baxtew nebba pway gamesie! Baxtew am onwy fow weaw! Nu fow pway!”
“Oh gosh bud that sounds real tough OH HEY Arnold, good to see ya big guy. Ya want Baxter?” He deflected to the Fluffalo, for some reason. Fluffalos are not good at reading conversations.
“Baxtew am Awnowd’s wittwe fwend!” The fluffalo stared sort of blankly. Daddy looked back to Sheila.
“That’s a ‘yes,’ or at least it’s the closest he’ll give you. Set the little tyrant down on his back.”
~😑 ~😑
Daddy had set very good and cute Baxter who is daddy’s favorite buddy, on the back of a large Fluffalo. Baxter had hoped to avoid this by appealing to daddy’s pity, but no use. Now daddy and the dummy lady are off making smoke that smells funny instead of rescuing poor Baxter!
“Hewwo, Baxtew! Awnowd su happy fow Baxtew come back, nu can wait fow show nyu safewoom! Mummah made big fun woom fow Awnowd because Awnowd gonna hab famwy! Dat mean nu mowe Baxtew hab tu weaw siwwy hewmet ow nuffin!”
Baxter perked up. As obnoxious as he found the fluffalo, he had to acknowledge that a fair amount of his consternation at the arrangement was due to how bad that helmet smelled. Maybe he’d see how this room turned out…