A sequel to Bad Uppies are Bad for Fluffies which I guess is now my main abuse timeline now. This whole story was written around the John Madden joke.
“Huuuu!! Fwuffeh weggies am aww twashies nao!!” A now naked and pillowed feral colt screamed up at Chad. God these thing were so annoying, he thought. In addition to their high pitch whining and screaming, rancid smell, intrusiveness, and coats of fluff oversaturated with color so badly that they hurt the eyes; they narrated literally everything.
“Nuu daddeh gib bad uppies! Nuu pinchies am wowstest huwties! Wouwd Noisy! Scawy buzzies! Nuu take fwuffehs fwuff! Nee Fwuff! Scawy pointy ting! Nuu take fwuffehs weggies! Nee weggies fow huggies an wub an pway wit bwokies! Scwee! Huwties! suu manneh boo boo joos! Scwee! Scee! Weggies am aww gown! Buwny huwties scweee!! Gib weggies bawk! Nu fwow in twashies!!”
Chad swore John Madden giving the instant replay slow-motion play by play would have less detail. If he had tied a hooker to the radiator (which for legal reasons he doesn’t, hasn’t, and has no desire to do so), she might scream a lot, sure, but she wouldn’t be breaking out ‘baby’s first thesaurus’ to articulate her terror.
The end result of the colt’s basically listing the fluffy equivalent of an windows 98 blue screen error log a was positive feedback loop where Chad grew even more annoyed and inflicted more suffering on the 18-ounce colt. Pain, whining, annoyance, even more pain. It truly was a vicious cycle.
As it happened to get to this point, he was walking home from the office when a car swerved to avoid hitting a feral mare carrying her litter on her back in the middle of the street. Not out of the kindness of his heart but because he drove a vintage white 1982 Supra and body damage was expensive on the classics.
By pure chance, (100% is a chance, right?) another mare was crossing the city street in the other direction with a trail of foals in tow like baby ducks behind her. The colt was the rear of the line and watched his entire family get emulsified by the Toyota’s square bumper.
Chad normally wouldn’t whisk a foal away from a mare in broad daylight to torture but now he HAD to, the poor thing lost his mom after all. A cute blonde who watched this played out thought he was so compassionate and gave him her number. He would most certainly be tapping ‘dat ass’ later.
He took his cauterizer, the hair curler some ex had forgotten, and clamped down the fluffy’s tongue. That finally shut him up. He got plopped in a litterbox with a notch for his head to hang out and reach a food bowl with the name Champ printed on it.
Generic babette #873 came over super concerned for the fluffy. She brought a ‘sketti flavored’ pizza the colt couldn’t eat with his injured mouth. Chad spun some story about the vet saying he had mange and all four of his hooves having gangrene from walking in broken glass and also having gingivitis and oral rot from eating junk food in the trash.
After and bit of “Fluff TV and chill” to calm the traumatized colt, they did the horizontal monster mash on the couch in plain sight of ‘Champ’. The colt could only silently huu as he watched his new daddeh give special huggies to his ‘special friend’.