You’re Applefluff! Daddy was nice and let you out of your safe room, but he closed all the other doors so you can’t explore. Daddy’s bruddah and his special friend are visiting daddy and sitting on the cowch. You’re a little sad, because you wanted to sit on the cowch with daddy and watch cartoons, but there’s no room for you up there. You roll your ball around, ignoring the hoomins. Maybe if they see how cute and funny you are, they’ll let you sit on the cowch too.
Daddy gets up and starts making clinky noises in the dishy washer, and daddy’s bruddah’s special friend sets her drink on the table and follows him into the kitchen, talking about something. Daddy’s bruddah watches you play with your ball and you try to be eeeeeextra cute so he lets you up on the cowch. You roll on your back and hold the ball up in the air with all four hoofsies and roll it around, then flop on your side and nibble at the ball while making “nom nom nom” noises like you’re eating it. Daddy thinks that’s so funny every time you do it, so you just know it’ll work!
Smiling, daddy’s bruddah pats his leg and says, “C’mere fluffy! Here fluffy! I have a special treat for you!”
You abandon your ball and come trotting over excitedly. Oh boy! It worked! He’s gonna let you on the cowch now!
Wait, no, what’s he doing? He puts a little bowl on the floor, but there’s nothing in it; you can smell that it had nummies in it before, but it’s empty now. What’s this? He picks up his special friend’s drink and pours it into the bowl. It’s dark and fizzy. You sniff it; bleagh. It doesn’t smell bad, but it doesn’t smell nummy either. You look up at him, confused.
“Go ahead, it’s ok! Drink up!”
You sniff it again, wrinkling your nosie, and give it a little lap. Bleagh! It tastes like medicine, and after you swallow there’s another taste; not sweet, but like it’s trying to pretend to be sweet. And failing. You don’t like it.
“If you’re a good fluffy and drink it all, I’ll give you a nummy!” He proves it by taking a nummy out of his pocket and you sniff, tail twitching eagerly. Oooh! It DOES smell nummy! But… you don’t like the brown, fizzy water in the bowl.
“Daddeh bwuddah gif Appuwfwuff nummy?”
“Only if you’re a good girl and drink up all the Diet Coke there!”
You don’t know what “die-et cote” is, but you’re pretty sure he means the brown, bubbly, icky water. You look at the bowl and frown.
“Nu can haf nummies if nu dwink bad wawa?”
“It’s not bad, it’s good! Drink up!”
Weeeeeell… you really want that nummy. And you don’t want to be disobedient. Daddy says good fluffies do what they’re told, and daddy’s bruddah wants you to drink the icky bubble water. It must be ok for fluffies, since he’s telling you to drink it. You make a face, but you lap it all up anyway. Bleagh.
You can feel it bubbling in your tummy; it feels weird. And you don’t like the taste that stays in your mouth after it’s gone. But you were a good girl, you drank it all!
Sitting back on your haunches and holding your front hoofsies up in the way daddy likes, you politely ask, “Daddeh bwuddah gif nice nummies tu gud fwuffy naow?”
“Here you go! But it’s a special nummy! You can’t chew it, you have to swallow it whole.”
Huh? That’s silly. How are you supposed to eat it if you can’t chew it? You hesitantly take the nummy in your mouth, and it tastes soooooo good! Especially after that icky stuff! You want to chew it up so badly, but if it’s a special nummy… It’s really big and it hurts your throat a little, but you manage to swallow it whole. You smile at daddy’s nice bruddah and wiggle your tail.
“Fank yoo!”
He seems to be waiting for you to do something, so you play with your ball some more. Ooh. You need to make burpies really bad!
BELCH
“Ex-scoos meh!”
How embarrassing! You go back to playing with your ball, but you keep having to make burpies. Daddy’s bruddah’s special friend comes back and sits on the cowch, and a little while later daddy gets the dishy-washer to make wawa noises and sits on his chaiw again. You pretend to num your ball to make daddy laugh.
Suddenly, your tummy is all gurgly and doesn’t feel good. Uh-oh. You’re not sickies, are you? You need to make burpies soooo bad, but it’s not coming out, and… and…
You’re watching your cute little fluffy Applefluff play with her ball, deliberately trying to be as adorable as possible so she can bask in your attention. Your idiot brother’s girlfriend picks up her Diet Coke and shakes the can.
“What happened to my soda? It was almost full when I set it down.”
Suddenly, Applefluff sits up, her peach-colored face turns noticeably paler, and she projectile vomits all over the living room floor. Brown, foaming vomit goes everywhere. Your brother is laughing so hard he has tears in his eyes and you immediately know he did something to your fluffy.
“What the hell did you do, asshole?”
“Dude, the Diet Coke and Mentos thing totally works!”
Applefluff is moving backwards, either trying to get away from the vomit that keeps spewing out of her mouth or she’s actually being propelled across the floor from it. Tears are staining her fluff and she makes pathetic little squeaks in between bouts of projectile vomiting.
“Get the fuck out of my house, you son of a bitch! If you can’t come over without doing mean shit to my fluffy, then you’re not welcome in my fucking house! Get the fuck out!”
“Allright, allright, I’m sorry! Geez! But you gotta admit, that shit’s hilarious!”
“GET! OUT!”
His girlfriend is angrily grabbing her purse and smacks your dumbass brother upside the back of his head as she follows him out the door.
“Why do you have to be such a dick to that poor little animal!”
You slam the door behind them, pissed, then turn to see if Applefluff is ok. She’s not puking anymore, but she keeps belching and looks thoroughly miserable. You wipe her face with a napkin and pick her limp body up and hold her close to you.
“Daddeh… sniffle”
“Yes, baby?”
“Appuwfwuff nuh wike daddeh’s bwuddah… sniff him meanie…”
“I know, sweetie. I know. Daddy’s not going to let him hurt you again. You’re a good girl.”
You kiss her on the forehead and she whimpers as she belches again.
“He a ash-howe.”
Normally you’d give her the sorry stick for using that kind of language (you also try your best not to use foul language around her; fluffies are generally averse to picking up bad words from their owners, thanks to Hasbio’s programming, but they can and do start repeating naughty things if exposed to them enough.), but you decide you’ll let it slide this time.
After all, she isn’t wrong.
Hic-BURP
