Because I’m somewhat proud of my Devastation piece, and becuase there needs to be buildup to an excruciating payoff, here’s a picture of the fat little poopy foal’s morning huggies routine. He’s so overcome with joy at being accepted as a normal pet, even by some dismissive office wagie, that he has to smush his little snotty, teary-eyed face RIGHT into that pantleg, hold on for dear life, and ask him a daily routine of questions to make sure it’s not just a dream. Too bad it’s not a dream that’ll last, especially after one too many snorts on his clothes.
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Ewwww. As if the shitting wasn’t bad enough! Snot is worse in some ways.
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Deadass i wouldn’t let that nga rub snot on my slacks whip him
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Ugh, and his nasty little vienna sausage
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It was the snot that told me that Jerry the (generic) Sex Pest from down the road, should deal with him
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The owner: hmm you look like a smore colored pig rat. Fluffy you’re making daddy very hungry.
Fluffy: huuhuu Fwuffys am fow huggies and wub, NU AM NUMMIES.
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Bet he could make the 80lbs..
Okay, I admit it. Despite my comment last post, I wouldn’t love nor miss those morning hugs. Buxley would get shaken off that leg and placed behind a child gate so I can do things in peace.
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I was so tempted to make it fully happy like what you were saying, but my thoughts told me this lil poop balloon would be so needy and insecure that he’d ruin it with everyone by going way too far on the hugs
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