Warning: spoilers for the Spirits of Sin Saga.
Hi there. I’m a fluffy owner, and you probably don’t know me, but you might know my fluffy.
See, I own a rather chubby light blue and bright orange unicorn stallion by the name of Chunky.
“Rather chubby” is an understatement, though.
He’s always had a big appetite, and it took me a while to realize how big he was getting.
I once caught him trying to scam spaghetti out of Judy Blaze at the park, by pretending to be her fluffy.
That was way back, before she became a wizard.
Anyway, once it was pointed out to me just how fat Chunky was getting, I tried to put him on a diet, but I never had the willpower to follow through.
Until Chunky became so fat that, like a mare in the last stage of her pregnancy, he could no longer walk.
And the very nice Dr. Stahlberg at the Foundation told us that Chunky had a year to live if we didn’t make some changes pronto.
That gave me the kick in the pants I needed to put Chunky on a strict diet and exercise regimen, and keep him on it.
Naturally, he wasn’t happy about it. He had become accustomed to being able to laze around and eat as much as he wants, and I’ve caught him trying to cheat a lot.
Then, not long ago, something weird happened.
Something that, in hindsight, turned out to be exactly what Chunky needed.
Where we live, weird things happen a lot.
But this was really weird.
Now, I don’t have all the facts, but a while back, there was a group of evil spirits running wild in the city.
They were called the Spirits of Sin, and as you can probably guess, they were embodiments of sin.
And they were looking for hosts who have those sins in abundance.
At the time shit went down, I was in the middle of an argument with Chunky. We had walked past McDonald’s when he started whining about wanting to go in there, and I was holding him by the collar to stop him.
That happened every damn time we pass a fast food place, I swear.
Then Chunky stopped whining all of a sudden, and started twitching and convulsing.
I thought he was having a seizure, or a heart attack, but then he spoke, and this time, it wasn’t his voice coming out of his mouth.
“Oh, this little fellow will do just fine! He’s so… hungry!”
I was so surprised that I let go, and by the time I processed what just happened, Chunky was gone.
I didn’t know what was happening at the time. I can’t see spirits. I’m no wizard, and I didn’t have one of those magic rings that lets you see the invisible.
But it turned out that Chunky had been possessed by Gula, the spirit of gluttony.
I can’t say I don’t get why Gula chose Chunky as his host.
Fortunately, the ChaotiX was able to seal the Spirits away again, and most of the possession victims were freed.
A few of the hosts died, but nobody I really knew, except this one woman who might as well have had “HELLO, MY NAME IS KAREN MCKAREN” tattooed on her face.
I had seen her get banned from over a dozen businesses. And those were just the ones I was there for. It’s like she wanted to save money by getting herself banned from everywhere she could possibly spend it.
I once saw her scream for the manager at the literal drop of a hat.
So, this might sound harsh, but I think that when she died, everyone in the service industry working in this city breathed a sigh of relief.
So yeah, when I was called and told I could pick Chunky up at Faucheuse Plaza, I came running.
And once I arrived, I didn’t get a chance to ask what exactly happened before Chunky waddled up to me, begging me for some carrot sticks.
For a moment, I thought he was still possessed, because it was so unlike him to do that.
There was a bunch of M&Ms spilled on the ground, Chunky wasn’t even looking at them.
They were next to a dead guy, that might have had something to do with it.
And Slayer was leering at Chunky, while humming… will.i.am’s Big and Chunky.
That might have had something to do with it too.
Slayer does like 'em big, I’ve seen Doomguy Dave’s videos. Little pervert once screwed a werewolf.
I could make a “doggystyle” joke, but I won’t.
And I can guess who taught him how to hum that song.
Frankly, Chunky got off easy, compared to the victims of the other Spirits.
There was a lot of demand for morning-after pills after the orgy that Luxuria set in motion.
And a lot of people who will never be able to look each other in the eyes again.
A couple of my neighbors hooked up during that mess, y’know.
Now his wife hates her, and her husband hates him, and if one of them doesn’t move soon, it’s probably gonna get ugly.
And to be honest…
I’m not entirely sure that they were actually affected by Luxuria.
They might have just seen it as an opportunity for some guiltless adultery.
Anyway…
Since then, Chunky’s been trying as hard as he can to slim down.
Now, he’s got plenty of incentive.
We’ve, ah, run into Slayer a few times, and he’s always eager to hear how Chunky’s efforts to lose weight are going.
Very eager, and even Chunky can see what Slayer is implying.
Between you and me: if I feel like Chunky’s starting to slip, I call Doomguy Dave and arrange for us to “coincidentally bump into” Slayer while we’re out on a “completely ordinary” walk.
Dave has told me in confidence that Slayer is entirely insincere about his barely veiled threats to enf Chunky if he doesn’t lose weight, and is doing it purely to motivate him.
Slayer doesn’t actually do his thing to ordinary fluffies anymore, Dave said. Horny little bastard saves it all up for the bad guys the ChaotiX deals with on a semi-regular basis.
But what Slayer is doing is working like nothing I ever tried.
I tried disguising vegetables as spaghetti, Chunky saw right through the ruse. Tried getting him to run on a treadmill by dangling a skettie treat in front of him, he decided he didn’t want the treat that much.
They’ve got treadmills for fluffies at Flufftopia. They’ve got a whole section for that kind of thing. Hell, a gym for fluffies opened across the street from Happy Fluffy Daycare a week ago.
Point is, nothing motivates a morbidly obese fluffy to lose weight like the threat of quality time with a horny, chubby-chasing, half-demon fluffy.
So I’ll tell Chunky that the threat is a bluff eventually.
I’m gonna let him lose a few more pounds first…
Right now, me and Chunky have just arrived at that gym I mentioned. It’s called Fluffy Fitness, and it’s the best place for a fluffy to shed some pounds.
Or kilos, as our city’s many British immigrants would say.
This place is damn good, so when I first came here, I expected to see the ChaotiX’s fluffies working out here.
But they’ve got a whole training facility at the School, so it makes sense that they don’t train here.
Maybe I should ask Mr. Korkea if Chunky could use that training facility. The ChaotiX has been trying hard to make up to victims of the Spirits for what happened, so they’ve already done a lot of favors.
I got one of those Flufftopia discount cards, like that stoner who was possessed by Acedia.
This is another FauCorp chain, like Flufftopia… or the Faucheuse Foundation… or Happy Fluffy Daycare… man, they’ve got a lotta fingers in a lotta pies.
And all of the equipment was designed by the Nerd Squad, specifically for fluffies.
Only here will you see a smoothie bar that sells spaghetti smoothies.
Hey, spaghetti does have a lot of carbs, and protein, which are both needed after a workout.
As we walk in, we see a familiar face behind the counter.
He’s muscular, with skin that’s a tad orangish, and blond hair in a slightly spiky crew cut. He’s wearing the gym’s pastel green uniform, with the gym’s logo: a silhouette of a fluffy lifting up a barbell.
I know his name: Clovis Boucher. He’s told me that he’s half-Saingan. His mother was one of the Intergalactic Patrol officers who had been monitoring Earth undercover for years. She was stationed in New Orleans, and got rather… friendly with one of the locals.
Like many Saingans, Clovis’ mother is baffled by the notion of having to pay for a gym membership. On Vajarsi, all gyms are free.
But Clovis is half-human, born and raised on Earth, so he can understand the notion just fine.
He’s alright, y’know. A bit boisterous, but not a bad guy. His tail was removed as a baby so he could pass as a pure human, and he could get it regrown, but he’s still on the fence.
Clovis grins when he sees us enter.
“Sup, brahs!”
After scanning Chunky’s key tag for him, I see Clovis offer me a fistbump, and I accept.
dap
“Sup, Clo. How’s it going?”
“It’s going good, brah! So! You ready to get totally shredded, Chunky?”
By now, Chunky knows that when Clovis says things like “shredded” or “ripped”, he doesn’t mean it literally.
Yes, there was a humorous misunderstanding during our first visit here.
“Chunkee am weddy tu git shwedded.”
“That’s the spirit! All aboard the gain train! Holler if you need help.”
“Thanks, Clo. But we know our way around.”
I lead Chunky over to one section with a bunch of fluffy-sized treadmills, and the obligatory full-length windows.
A couple of the treadmills are in use, the fluffies’ owners encouraging them.
“C’mon! Eye of the tiger!”
“Dewe am a tai-guw hewe?!?”
That mare starts running faster.
I look down at Chunky, who is already standing on the treadmill.
“I’ve gotta turn it on first, buddy.”
“Oh, wite.”
I kneel down, pushing a few buttons on the treadmill, and as I turn it on at the lowest setting, Chunky starts waddling, looking out the window.
There’s a great view of the street, and of our car in the parking lot, and the daycare across the street.
Oh hey, it’s Mr. Korkea! All of his fluffies are with him, he’s got like eight of them. He must be dropping them off.
I wave, and Mr. Korkea sees me, waving back.
Kinda weird that Marley still goes to the daycare. I mean, he’s got superpowers out the ass, he can turn human, and with all the crazy adventures he goes on, a daycare must be downright boring for him.
But maybe that’s why he likes going there. Marley might be a fluffy with powers beyond my ken, but he’s still a fluffy, and going to the daycare might be a good way for him to wind down after one of those adventures.
I’ll ask them about it later.
Right now, I’ve gotta keep an eye on Chunky.
“Keep it up, buddy! You’re doing great!”
“Fanks, -haff- daddeh. How wong -haff- du Chunkee gutta -haff- du dis? Chunkee am -haff- tiwed…”
“It hasn’t even been five minutes yet! Let’s see if you can keep this up for fifteen minutes.”
I’ve gotta be careful. I don’t want Chunky to have a heart attack, but he’s gotta lose weight somehow.
And I don’t think Chunky is tired, I think he’s just feeling a bit lazy.
I whip out my phone, sending a text to Doomguy Dave.
Heya, me again. We’re at Fluffy Fitness, and Chunky needs a motivator. You got the time?
I quickly get a reply.
Gimme a minute, we’ll be right there. I know what’ll work.
So I wait, watching Chunky waddle on the treadmill, occasionally glancing at the windows.
Then we see Dave walk past the windows, Slayer trotting next to him.
As they pass us, Slayer makes eye contact with Chunky, leers at him, and winks.
Chunky’s eyes widen, and he starts waddling a bit faster.
“Chunkee gutta twy haw-dew!”
I see both of them suppress laughter as they leave.
Honestly, I’m trying not to laugh myself.
And when they’re gone, I send Dave another text.
Thanks, man.
No problem, Slayer was happy to help.
Clovis walks over to us, looking confused.
“Yo, brah! Was that Doomguy Dave? What was he doing here?”
“Just, uh, passing through.”
I whisper into Clovis’ ear.
“Sometimes Chunky needs a bit of incentive to do his best. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.”
“Sure, brah. I’m going to Harry’s Place after my shift, we can talk about it over a beer or eight.”
“The funny thing is, I know that’s barely enough to get you tipsy.”
Clovis laughs.
“Hey, I get that from my mom’s side of the family. I can drink any normo human under the table.”
“So when are you gonna fluff your shit up too, Clo? I know you love fluffies, kinda odd that you don’t have a fluffy of your own.”
“Y’know, brah, I was thinking about getting one of those new Vajarsi Flag Fluffies. My mom’s already gotten one.”
“There aren’t a lot of Saingans with fluffies, are there?”
“Give it time, brah. The King and the Prince already have fluffies. Even my cousin Venny is talking about getting a fluffy! I mean, her boyfriend has one.”
“Yeah, I know, she’s told me. Akira and Wukong are in the ChaotiX too, she said.”
Apparently, women in Clovis’ Saingan half of the family tend to have a thing for human men. It’s just one of those odd little quirks that runs in the family.
“Yup, and Venny’s been meaning to ask Cal to invite her. Hey, she can balance it with her day job, and it’s not like she’s no good in a fight. You know Venny, right brah?”
“I go to the butcher’s shop she works at a couple of times a week, so yes, I do. What’s up with that weird guy with the red mare? He comes in and buys a lot of beef and pork blood.”
“Oh, that’s Sander, brah. He’s a hemomancer, but Ven says he’s cool.”
“Aha. Well, I’m not gonna worry about it.”
I look back at Chunky, still waddling.
“You ready to turn it up a bit, buddy?”
He nods, so I kneel down again, turning the treadmill’s speed up a notch.
“You’re doing great, Chunky!”
“Yeah, give it time, brah! Soon, you’re gonna be as shredded as Marley!”
“Chunkee -haff- nu knu abowt -haff- dat…”
Impressively enough, Chunky is keeping up with the treadmill.
On our first visit here, I turned it up just a weeeeee bit too high, and Chunky fell off.
Fortunately, he had a lot more padding back then, so he wasn’t really hurt. His spirit was wounded worse than his body that day.
So this is good! It means we’re making progress!
Sure, Chunky might always somewhat live up to his name, but he’s making changes, and he is losing weight. I’ve been weighing him frequently, and keeping track.
So maybe Chunky will eventually slim down to the point that his name is no longer accurate.
Maybe not.
But every pound he sheds delays his inevitable appointment with the Death of Fluffies.
Yeah, the Deaths have been public knowledge for a while. Ever since that whole alien invasion thing.
Point is, Chunky’s on the right track. And not only am I keeping a close eye on his progress, I’ve got friends in high places doing the same, friends who are happy to help us with this.
Mr. Korkea knows a lot of wizards. Maybe there’s some kind of weight loss potion or something?
I dunno, I’ll have to ask about that, too.
I’m not gonna muck around with magic on my own, I know that. Leave it to the professionals, I say.
And it might be for the best that Chunky doesn’t use some kind of magical shortcut to lose weight.
I love the little guy, but…
He’s lazy enough as it is.