Big Bad John (Ace)

Big Bad John was a fluffy who was not particularly big and, well, he was a rather sweet tempered guy too. Brown fur with an ashy mane and tail that were often covered with a thick layer of black soot. A guy named Rich had discovered the poopie all on his lonesome out on some back mining road leading up to their current job site and he’d quickly become a mascot for this little outfit of the Hancock Coal Company.

The mines were a harsh job even for the stoutest of men but John was deep down in the darkness with them every day. With an appropriately sized helmet with his own headlamp, a reflective safety vest, and leather booties to keep his soft hooves safe from the harsh Earth below John would be found down there every day.

“Foreman can kiss my ass, John.” All gathered along a slat of wood they’d been using as a bench, the men had to duck their heads to eat their lunch or slam down massive quantities of coffee from grimy thermoses. Dank water dripped from above, pooled down at their workboots. Miserably cold at times, hot as a dungeon other times.

“He am num poopie pwace!” John agreed with his usual chipper tone. The fluffy caught a corner of the corned beef sandwich Rich tore off, tossed to him. Quickly chewing it up, he had a swallow of water set out in a Thermos lid and gave a burp which received a spattering of applause from the miners surrounding him.

“Still not enough men. Safety equipment…what a fuckin’ joke.” Nearly all of their multi-gas detectors were useless. Was there a step below ‘Made in China’? They had the equivalent. The best detection was currently going about their business until a guy or two dropped and had to be pulled out for clean air.

A steam whistle blew. Men on the bench grumbled, finished off whatever Little Debbie snack cakes or beers they had been drinking on the sly. If the foreman caught them with alcohol, docked pay.


Rich, who John was usually caught shadowing, was in charge of loading coal up onto a cart. One of the less glamorous jobs for the crew though he was always fascinated with watching the bearded man grunting and piling the carts heavy with the black stuff they were all down here to get.

He’d learned a long time ago to not get in the way as work was being done. There was someone who didn’t mind being bothered though. Scampering off, he went to find the man in charge of big boomies. A wiry, thin fella by the name of Jeffy.

“How’s it go, John?” Asking the fluffy as he went over everything for the current explosive that would loosen up more of the

“Jawn am otay!” Getting as close as he could to examining the explosives before he was shooed away, the fluffy did a little dance for the entertainment of his ‘coworker’. Jeffy chuckled a bit, getting a good look at him from the dim light that the single bulb above his work table cast down.

“Foreman’s making his rounds, Johnny-boy. Might wanna make yerself scarce like. You know how he is.”

BBJ did indeed know how the foreman was. A man that even a fluffy could see for being of little to no use. He was younger than everyone here (fluffy excluded, of course), and had gone to a place called ‘college’. The men here thought that college was very poopy and was a place only ‘rich pussies’ went to. They were all his friends and the foreman wasn’t very nice to him, so he could only guess they were 100% right. Ducking under a bench, John got himself tucked away as best as possible as the foreman walked through.

He was a guy still in his early twenties with fancy clothes, including a tie. Everyone down here didn’t wear such nice things, John knew that. They had durable work clothes all covered with soot but whenever the foreman even got some on his loafers he’d wipe it away with a handkerchief. Parted blonde hair, a thick pair of glasses, a wispy peach-fuzz mustache. It was easy to see why he had no respect from anyone down here, especially with the way he was waving his clipboard around like a God giving commandments.

“I want to see you layabouts actually work today! You might think it’s easy for me to be up there in the office, but it’s not. Every day I have to hear about how you limp noodles aren’t pulling up enough!” The man would shout angrily, making John wanted to run out and give him a piece of his mind! A dummeh didn’t get to be meanies to his friends, especially when they were making the hawdest wowkies ever. Rich had told him to think better of that though.

“Yeah? Love to see you down here, princess. Some coal dust in your lungs’d do ya some good, I think!” A burly guy named Danders interrupted, one of the guys who was in charge of wheeling carts back down the line once they were fully loaded.

“Heh, careful Dandy. Rich boy’ll dock your pay.” Chimed in Jeffy from his table.

Straightening his back and trying to seem imposing as possible, the foreman prissily tipped his nose up. “I’ll dock both of your pay. Now get back to fucking work! I want another shaft opened by the next shift change!”


Opening another shaft. They’d worked all day (or was it night?) but it seemed like an impossible task. No matter how much they cleared away, there was even more to pull away. John did his best by helping where he could.

“Coffee!” One man shouted, and he’d learned to match their voice to their Thermos. Bumbling through the darkness with only a headlamp to help out, he found the appropriate vessel and lugged it back over to him with his mouth.

“Thanks, John.” A guy would belch out, slapping a fist against his chest amicably.

“Teehee! Wewcome, fwend!” Back to scampering around.

“Who took the fuckin’ TP!?” Some guy bemoaned from an abandoned area they’d be using for the toilet. With some quick scans to and fro, John found the precious paper and brought it over to the guy who had definitely had too much coffee for the day.

“Lifesaver, John.” The fellow grunted, the fluffy backing away quickly.

“Suuuuu stinkeh!” Was all he said in response, getting back to helping wherever he could.


It was already time for another meal break before John knew it. Jeffy had gone back to set the explosives needed to make way for another shaft and they’d all be going up to elevator soon for the boomies to take place.

“Wub sammich!” John cooed at an entire sloppy joe a guy had given him. More congealed than sloppy now that it had been perhaps an entire day since some loving wife had made it, but he loved it. The sauce reminded him of skettis somewhat!

Perhaps three guys were still back there before taking their own lunch break. Packing the more sensitive equipment away before the explosives were to go off. It would take some time before all the dust settled and it’d gum up some of their tools.

“So who would you rather fuck. Miss Piggy or…” The incredibly strange game of ‘Who would you rather fuck’ was interrupted by a ripple through the air, a massive explosion that tore throughout the mine. In the darkness, the light was blinding. John felt himself knocked clean off his boot-covered hooves, sent tumbling down from the bench and back toward the mine elevator. Heat and foul smelling gasses followed. There was a ringing in the fluffy’s ears, chaos all around him as men sprang to action. An alarm was blaring now, a red warning light flashing at the elevator.

“Get the fuck back up here!” Squawked a voice on the intercom. The foreman, and judging by shrill nature of his voice he was awfully scared. To be fair, many of the other guys were too. They began piling onto the elevator, already beginning to see the support beams bowing and fissures beginning to appear on the rock above.

Rich immediately went to the intercom on the elevator, depressed the button with one thumb and shouted into it. “There’s still six in there! We gotta get ‘em out!”

There was no response for a moment, the voice on the other end coming through all warbly and panicked. “If you aren’t out of there in a matter of minutes, I’m giving you the pink slip!”

Giving a deep breath, he looked to his fellow miners. Their eyes were cast down to the ground. All men with families, they didn’t want to risk it and he couldn’t blame them. Taking Big Bad John up in his arms, he’d try to bring the fluffy on over to the elevator but he started to raise a fuss and kick his legs around.

“Dey am Jawn’s fwends! Wan hewp fwends!” Well, now the guys really looked ashamed. Of course a fluffy was more stupid than it was brave, they had to know that. Rich set him down on the ground and moved on over to their equipment lockers as the elevator gave it’s loud buzz and began rattling up and out of the mine which was filling with fire and noxious gasses with each passing moment.

There wasn’t an appropriately sized compressed air tank and mask for John but Rich had one, pulling it on with a hiss of air. The two went into the Hell within, Rich pulling down rocks where it was appropriate and the fluffy squeezing through any gap he could find.


The men were still in the main chamber they’d been working in. Question was…where? Even though the area had filled with choking gasses, smoke from fires which raged here and there, John could still use his nose. Fluffies had an amazing sense of smell. Shooting past Rich, he began tugging weakly at a pile of loosened support beams. Following the fluffy, the human began moving away debris until finally a boot appeared. Muffled screaming from below. Once it had all been thrown to the side, it would be Danders at the bottom. Thank God he’d been wearing his hardhat or else he likely would have been done in.

“Hewp Dandeh! Jawn am ‘fin mowe fwends!” Getting Danders up to his legs (well, one. The other had been broken), Rich began to move him down the line toward the elevator.

Rocks fell down from above and more coal dust sifted down as John navigated the mess. He had so many scawdies. Even more water had come in down the tunnel after the big boomy and it went all the way up to his legs, the fluffy immersed in the cold wawa, boots sucking against the ground as he navigated his way around. There was the familiar smell of coffee and cigarettes, John’s nose navigating him to an area where the fire had gotten closer. A corner of the room where it was hard to see. One hand, two feet, and a head poked out of the rubble.

“John! You ‘gotta fuckin’ help me man, I can’t get out!” The man’s eyes were bulging out, sweat rolling down his grimy forehead, the flames approaching faster. more and more support beams collapsing down the tunnel. Each time they did, there was a massive shake which sent a belch of black dust out.

“It otay fwend. Wich am comin’ ‘fo hewpsies.” It’s not like he could pull the rubble away. All he could do was get close, let the man’s free hand rest against his fur. Just having another living thing so close by, even if it was just a fluffy, helped the man relax immediately.

“Rich? Crazy bastard…” He murmured with hope in his eyes. Eventually, Rich’s headlamp would poke out over the tunnel’s entrance.

“WHERE YOU AT JOHN!?” Cawing out to the chaos, the fluffy moving from the man he’d been reassuring to gave rapid waggles of his front weggies.

“AM HEWE! PWEASE HEWP FWEND!” Immediately, Rich busted right back into action and began pulling debris away from the pinned man. A crushed pelvis, unable to walk. Skin all cut to Hell. Alive though. Getting the man’s arms looped around him, Rich looked down to John.

“One more, big guy! Let’s get this cat skinned!” Huffing, puffing, Rich began to haul his coworker out.


By now everything had begun to really go to shit. More of the support beams in the main chamber all of the men had been in began to buckle under the stress of a mountain of Earth above them. With a groaning roar, it seemed as if it would collapse down on top of his head. John screamed, got down low to the floor, put both hooves over his head. Scaredy-poopies blew out behind him and he sniffled against the puddle of water he was down in.

He had to be a brave fluffy though. Because these with all of his friends. They gave him sandwiches, and smiled when he did dancies. The miners were all nice to him, just a fluffy. Even his own mummah hadn’t been so nice. Sniffling a bit and attempting to smell, he caught the faintest sense of something. Aftershave. It was really distant though and mixed with…poopies.

Sloshing through the sludge-like wawa, he got to the area where the humans made their poopies at. It wasn’t accessible though. The chemical smell of the pretty-smelling wawa they wore sometimes was there and even if he couldn’t smell or hear anyone, he was sure someone was back there.

“Jawn wiww hewp yew!” Boots scrabbling at the rocks which had covered the area and attempting to dislodge it all with his mouth, all he got was sore gums for the effort. A small explosion rocked the walls from nearby, causing him to squeal and hit the floor again. Frustrated tears rolled down his eyes. Why was he so small? He wanted to help his friends.

“John! Joooohnnnn!” That was Rich! He couldn’t scrabble out so fast because of the swamplike conditions the floor were currently in, instead he had to yell out as hard as he could

“JAWN AM HEWE! DEWE AM FWEND HEWE! PWEASE HEWPSIES!” Swooping in at the sound of his voice, Rich found him at the pile of rubble. Too much. It had to be too much. Yet just as he did every day, he began pulling rock and tossing it aside. It had to work. Even though he was wearing workgloves, he could begin to feel his hands tear from the constant friction of it all. Teeth grit, brows furrowed, he dug his boots in and slung things away until the light of a headlamp was visible and the smell of human shit curled out from within.

“There he is!” Andy was his name, unfortunate enough to be taking a shit when the explosion had gone off. Worse condition than the other two, unconscious. Locking the man’s arms against his own, he would have to pull the poor bastard against slat and water to safety. It was better than being in here when everything went down.

“C’mon John! We’re blowin’ this popsicle stand!” Making sure Andy’s head was above the raising water, the three began their trek toward the entrance. The walls shifted, most of a support beam went down along with a fair amount of rock. Yet there was still room for a man to squeeze through. A tiny crevice that would be just a tight enough squeeze for a big fella. Getting through it first, Rich peeked through the opening.

“You’re gonna need to help me bud! Keep his feet together the best you can!” The man was unconscious and his legs were just splayed out so it was up to John to grab one of his bootstrings and notch his legs together, teeth clenched as hard as they could be he legs would stay together. Slow progress, dragging Andy out. John could see that his shirt had snagged on the sharp rocks, a bit of blood coming out. Wanting to give a ‘huuhuu’ at the booboos his friend had gotten, he instead focused the entirety of his small brain on keeping his legs together until they too began to disappear past the hole. His eyes shined with happiness once the last of his boots had disappeared.

“C’mon, John!” The fluffy saw the excited face of Rich peek out from behind the hole. Boots finding purchase to finally get himself out, the fluffy heard a loud noise from up above, a great force, and then never thought about much ever again.


Hancock Coal Mining still operates. A mining accident like that was no big deal to them, especially with no fatalities. Except for the one lone fluffy.

That site closed down, operations moved elsewhere. The foreman got a new, cushier job at the corporate offices and all of the men who were down there that day simply moved onto the next mining job. That was coal country: There was no room to fear what might happen to you until it did. Food needed to be put on the table, kids needed new shoes.

Yet at that old site, a statue was erected. A lifesize rendition of Big Bad John with his little hardhat and a big smile. Even years after he’d been buried down in that mine, people still left Moonpies and sandwich halves for him out of respect. It was good luck to leave an offering to the fluffy.


Oh my gosh, I really really liked this story! Really well written and I loved big bad John so much! I’m so glad they gave him a statue, what a good fluffy!


What a fluffy! The little moonpie offerings <3


Big Bad John. An actual good fluffy. :sparkling_heart:


well that was sweet also I felt my heart break a little you went down like a man John even tho you were a fluffy I salute you :saluting_face:


Rip to a real one

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Do fluffies have souls? I don’t know, but at least this one seems to have one.


I am surprised by the wide range of furry that @ace manages, from the most detestable to the most noble.


Excellent work!


I’m not crying, slipper fucker, you are

Fucking bastard.


He cared so much for his friends, have a sandwich little hero :sandwich:

Big Bad John was a very good fluffy


Yasssssssss… helper fluffs and that sweet sweet corporate satire. RIP Big Bad John. MVPony.


That was very well done. Rip

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