Booger was a huggyfluffy, and she lived in a bathroom with no other fluffy to hug. Her fluff was a sickly shade of greenish-yellow, and her mane could be called ‘olive’ at best. She had been the runt of her litter, and was still smaller than most fluffies her age. Being a huggyfluffy meant that Booger’s back legs had been amputated shortly after she was born. What was left was just enough to lift her ass off the ground so she could use her litter-box. Her main mode of locomotion was to just drag her rump across the floor using her front legs. It wasn’t graceful, but it worked.
She didn’t have a lot of room to move around though. The bathroom that Booger lived in was small. A convenient closet by the stairway on the house’s main floor with a sink and toilet crammed in, as well as Booger herself. A small window far up on the wall let in a pitiful amount of sunlight during the day. The room was cold most of the time, and it didn’t smell very pretty.
There were no toys. Booger barely had the necessities. A crusty takeout container served as her food dish. A rarely-cleaned litter-box was crammed between the toilet and the wall, taking up a lot of what little floor space there was in the room. Booger’s only other possession was her best friend in the world. Her blanket.
Booger’s ‘blanket’ was actually a filthy washcloth that had been on the floor as long as she could remember. It was thin, stained, and it didn’t smell pretty in the slightest- but it was something she could hug, and it was nicer to sleep on than the chilly linoleum when dark-times came.
The tiny mare also liked that it was blue. It was the only spot of color in the otherwise entirely white room, other than Booger herself, and the not-pretty litter-box.
Booger spent a lot of her bright-times tapping her padded front hooves on the sticky linoleum floor, or singing little songs to herself. Mostly misheard commercial jingles from when the teebee was turned up way too loud; if Booger was lucky, she could listen to it by laying by the door and putting her ear next to the small crack. Sometimes, she talked to her washcloth. There wasn’t much to talk about, so she mostly talked about how much she liked it.
It was something to do. She was desperate for that. ‘Daddeh’ didn’t have much to do with her a lot of the time. He only fed her when he remembered to, and changed out the litter-box when he could no longer ignore the smell. He never played with her, never let her out of the bathroom to explore or watch teebee. She mostly just heard him go about his day outside of the door, and he mostly didn’t think about her.
Every now and then though, he’d step into the bathroom to use it for its intended purpose. This is why Booger knew what the toilet was for, and why it made her feel very not pretty whenever she had to drink out of it. She had to do this a lot more than she wanted to.
Not only did drinking out of the toilet make Booger feel gross- it was dangerous to do, especially for a fluffy missing about half of its limbs. If she fell in she’d almost certainly drown. Getting the toilet water was a terrifying event from start to finish, so Booger only drank when she absolutely had to.
Today was one of those days. She couldn’t ignore her thirst any longer, so she summoned what little courage a fluffy like her could muster and shakily scooted towards the toilet, glancing once back at her ‘blanket’ for emotional support. She imagined it cheering her on. That helped, slightly.
The process of Booger getting to the toilet water was only made possible by hauling herself up on the rim of her litter-box (which was already a tall order) and then pulling herself up and over onto the bowl of the toilet. The porcelain provided Booger no good grip- in order to drink, she would have to hang her front half into the toilet bowl, leaning in just far enough to where she could lap at it with her tongue. It was painful and tedious, taking all of the strength in her back stumps to keep her from falling in face-first.
This was how Daddeh found her when he opened the bathroom door.
“Booger, what the fuck! Nasty!”
Booger screeched as her back stumps almost lost their grip. The toilet water terrifyingly close to her nose.
‘Daddeh’ was a man named Bryce, and he wasn’t actually mad at Booger for drinking out of the toilet. Who gave a shit? Bryce just couldn’t turn down a good opportunity to bully his fluffy. The two-legged sadsack had been scooped up from a FluffMart bargain bin a few years ago just so he could engage in some toilet humor from time to time.
It beat mindlessly scrolling his phone for ten minutes anyway.
“You’re nasty, Booger- drinking out of the shitter? You’re a stupid, stinky fluffy. Now get out of my way!”
Booger slipped off the toilet shamefully, landing roughly on the floor. She scooted over to her mildewed washcloth in hopes of some sort of comfort. She huu-huu’d softly as Bryce continued to taunt her as he pulled down his pants and sat down. He taunted her the entire time he took a shit.
Booger had to sit there, nose wrinkled at the smell and eyes filled with tears as he hurled every school-yard level insult he knew at her. Stinky. Gross. Nasty. Smelly. To a fluffy, those words were like knives. Booger couldn’t stand the thought of not smelling pretty. She already knew her fluff was not pretty. She had been told so her entire life. She wanted to at least be clean. She squirmed and cried as she stewed in the stink and shame. It was a pathetic sight.
Finally, Bryce finished his shitty tirade. He reached for the toilet paper- only to realize that the roll was empty.
“Aw shit.”
Booger winced at another No-No-Word, but didn’t speak up. She shuffled her washcloth closer to her, hoping her daddeh would flush the toilet soon and leave. Even if the noise it made was super scary, she wanted the whole thing over with already.
Bryce looked at Booger and her ‘blanket’ thoughtfully. He could get up and waddle to his other bathroom and grab a roll. Or…
“Hey, Booger, since you’re such a stinky fluffy, how about you help me?”
This was new. Booger looked up from the floor curiously, ears perked up. She wasn’t usually tasked with much other than being Daddeh’s verbal punching bag. It made her uneasy.
“Hewp Daddeh? How Booga hewp?”
Even if Bryce was mean to her, he was still her Daddeh, and she wanted to be useful.
“I need some toilet paper.”
“Booga fin’ toiwet paypeh?”
“No, Booger is toilet paper.”
It took a minute, but eventually the light upstairs came on, and Booger realized what her daddeh meant. She looked up at Bryce in horror. She didn’t want to be that helpful.
“Nuu, Daddeh! Fwuff am not fo’ poopeh cweanies! Nuu-hu-hu-hu!” She began to cry in earnest now.
Bryce rolled his eyes.
“You’re such a crybaby, Booger. Fine, I’ll use this.”
Booger screeched as Bryce snatched the washcloth from under her hoof, causing her to jerk forward and fall on her chin. He ignored her owwies, flicking her on the nose.
“I need to wipe, Booger. You want me to use you instead?”
Booger shook her head, hiccuping in distress. Her nose hurt where Daddeh had flicked it. She didn’t want to be covered in poopies, but she didn’t want her ‘blanket’ to be, either!
What she wanted didn’t matter. Daddeh reached behind him with the treasured washcloth, back where she knew poopies had just been made.
“Nuuu, Daddeh!”
Bryce made a big show of groaning as he wiped. He then unceremoniously dropped the washcloth into toilet under him before standing and pulling his pants back up.
“Daddeh gib bwankie back?”
Bryce looked down. The fluffy below him looked up at him with large, desperate eyes. Even if it was covered in poopies, Booger didn’t want to lose that washcloth. It was the only object of comfort in her small and smelly world.
“I don’t think you want it now, Booger. It’s shitty.”
Booger huu-huu’d softly as Bryce flushed the toilet. There was the scary noise. She wrenched her eyes shut, wanting the washcloth back more than anything. She tried not to think about it, covered in poopies, going down the scary hole at the bottom of the toilet. She really wished it wouldn’t!
Something happened, then. The scary noise cut off early. A new, unfamiliar one replaced it.
“C’mon,” Bryce was muttering under his breath, looking angrily at the toilet. He pushed down the handle again. “What the fuck?”
Booger opened her eyes, instinctively scooting back. Why was Daddeh mad now?
Suddenly, water started pouring on to the floor. Booger’s wish had come true, unfortunately. The washcloth did not disappear down the scary hole. Instead, it had clogged the toilet, causing an overflow. Bryce started frantically trying to shut off the water. Booger started to panic. Doing her best to hold her ass off the floor, the trembling mare started screeching.
“Daddeh! Hewp! Hewp Booga! Wawa bad fo’ fwuffies!”
Bryce was beyond pissed. He had finally wrenched the valve under the toilet all the way shut, but the floor (and his socks) were still soaked in shitty water. The smell was awful. Also, there was a high pitched squealing at his ankles.
“Shut up, Booger! Your stupid ‘blanket’ did this!”
Booger cried as her uncontrollable trembling made her fall flat on the floor, shitty water splashing all over her.
“Nuu-hu-hu, Booga sowwy! Booga sowwy!”
She didn’t know what to do. Everything was wet and stinkeh and it was apparently her fault. Daddeh was so mad!
Bryce stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door. Booger was scared. She was also still dehydrated. She closed her eyes and tried not to think too hard about what she was going to do.
It smelled and tasted terrible, but she drank what she could anyway. She needed water, and maybe daddeh wouldn’t be as mad if she cleaned up the mess. She didn’t feel pretty though, and the more she drank, she worse she felt. Never had Booger felt so not pretty in her entire life, lapping up that water.
Despite her best efforts, the water seemed limitless, and soon it was coming right back up and out of her throat. Booger collapsed, pushing herself against the wall, crying. All she wanted was something to hug.
Bryce eventually returned with an armful of dirty laundry and tossed in on the bathroom floor to soak up the water. Somehow, the fluffy wasn’t buried in it. She opened her mouth to apologize again, but Bryce cut her off before she could say anything.
“I’ll pick that shit up tomorrow. Night, retard.”
The door slammed shut once more, and after a moment, Booger dropped her head crawled onto the pile of smelly clothes. The stink in the room was nearly unbearable now. Booger wriggled herself around on top of the pile and tried to find a dry spot, but everything was already soaked. The already cold room seemed so much colder now.
What little light the window gave was now gone. There was nothing else for Booger to do but to curl up and try to sleep in the damp. So that was what she did.