It’s been three weeks since Mister Kindly came to live with Steven, and things were going well. The little guy had become even more affectionate, asking for scritches and pets endlessly, never seeming to be satisfied no matter how long Steven lavished him with attention. The pen he ordered had been set up in Steven’s office, but it didn’t see much use. Mister was a free-spirited fluffy, and liked to come and go from his office as the mood struck him. He wandered the house, taking the time to stack his blocks or push one of his balls when he saw them, and pausing to scratch himself for long intervals in what must have been a heavenly sensation, judging from Mister’s expression.
Steven saw his tendency to wander and decided to help his fluffy friend along. After all, he didn’t want the guy to be bored because of his laziness. After doing a little research online, he decided to buy some fluffy safe furniture ramps to give Mister some more places to reach. He installed one on the living room couch, as well as his bed. Steven had to be careful that Mister Kindly couldn’t get anywhere that he would accidentally hurt himself, but he wasn’t too worried about the little guy trying to fly or anything. He was a unicorn, after all.
It had also been three weeks since Steven’s manager had chewed him out for Mister’s appearance in one of the staff meetings; something that he was loath to repeat, which meant when Steven was notified that his annual performance review was happening near the end of his work day, he paid attention. He’d have to give Mister a heads up ahead of time, that way he’d know what to expect when Steven needed him to be quiet. He wrote down a reminder for himself on a piece of paper, placed in front of him so it was impossible to miss, and began his day. Five hours later, the alarm telling him it was lunch time came long after his stomach had told him the same. Glancing at the paper on his desk which read “TELL MISTER HE CAN’T ASK FOR SCRITCHES DURING MEETING”, he clocked out and bolted to the kitchen to fix himself a quick lunch. After frying up a storm he quickly fixed himself a plate and sat in front of the TV to enjoy his brief rest.
Mister, knowing Steven’s routine as well as Steven did now, already knew the drill. The second his butt hit the couch Mister Kindly was tip-tapping his way up the ramp and sat in his own spot, ready for scritches and wuv. Feeling the warm presence, Steven remembered his own message and cleared his throat.
“Hey Mister, I’ve got something to tell you.”
Mister didn’t look away from the zen garden video playing on the TV, but his ears swiveled towards Steven. He didn’t say anything, but Steven knew he was listening.
“Later today I’ve got a meeting with my boss, and you can’t come ask for pets while that’s happening. Ok?”
This got his attention. Steven saw concern plastered across his fluffy’s face as his head whipped around to plead his case. “But fwuffy wub daddeh-me! Nu wan weave daddeh-me!”
“I’m not leaving you Mister, it’s just for one meeting. You can still be in the office with me, you just have to be quiet, ok?”
Mister Kindly cocks his head at an angle, as though he’s giving what Steven said some thought. “Otay daddeh-me. Fwuffy be quiet fo dah meetin’” he beamed. “Scwitchies pwease!”
Steven smiled back at the little face as he gave Mister a scratch under the chin, behind his ears, and all along his back. Mister Kindly takes to his ministrations well, wagging his little tail, cooing and moving his head and body around to position your hand just so. The pair enjoys the rest of Steven’s lunch break like this, until Steven reluctantly coaxes Mister off of his lap. “Back to it,” he grunts.
The rest of the work day was ordinary, but the performance review loomed over it like a shadow. Every time he checked the clock Steven felt his heart rate increase slightly. He tried to ignore it. Steven had this problem more times than he could count. He just really, really got nervous when meeting with authority figures, even if it’s for a good reason. He tried to breathe through it, but Steven knew he just had to get it over with to feel better. Fortunately, his thoughts were interrupted by an alarm telling him that the video call was in 10 minutes. Ugh. Steven turned to Mister Kindly, letting him know that the meeting would start soon, and reminding him to be quiet. “Otay, daddeh-me” came the response. With a nod, Steven stood to set up the webcam that he’d bought for occasions like this. Technically he was required to have it plugged in whenever he was working, but nobody outside of management took that seriously. After a quick test of the camera and microphone to make sure the inputs were correct, Steven sat down and counted the seconds until the call began.
Sitting at attention as the ringtone played on his headphones, Steven answered. The first five minutes went as expected. There was a smattering of small talk before the review began in earnest. Steven’s manager talked over all the standard points of performance: absences, late days, how he met his metrics, when Steven felt a small tug at his pant leg. His stolen glance showed Mister’s eyes looking up at him, clearly begging for more scritches, however discreetly. Steven sighed. He had hoped his chat with Mister Kindly would be all that was needed, but hopefully ignoring him would remind the fluffy of his earlier promise. He continued the meeting as if nothing was amiss. Mister, however, didn’t seem to get the hint. He tugged again, this time firmer. Irritation flared in the part of Steven’s brain that was focused on him; he had told the little guy twice and he was still bugging him during the meeting? This is exactly what Steven wanted to avoid, but he’d have to tell him to go away in front of his manager. He gently looked down and shot mister a knowing glare, and shooed him away with his foot. Hopefully it wasn’t too noticeable.
Peace lasted for two merciful minutes before Mister Kindly returned with new vigor. The tugs were practically rough for a fluffy, he had clearly switched from using his front hooves to his teeth, putting his entire bioengineered body into the motion. A tiny, almost pitiful voice came from under Steven’s desk.
“Daddeh-me, Mistew hab itchies. Fwuffy be quiet. Gib scwatchies?”
His jaw tightened at the sound; it seemed Mister Kindly didn’t get the message. Steven sighed again, this time drawing the attention of his manager, who was in the middle of detailing how many minutes his lunch breaks had run long by.
“Am I boring you Steven? I wasn’t aware you had more important things going on.” He spoke like a machine, like he was being pushed along by a mindless clockwork mechanism.
Steven blanched. “No sir, I’m sorry, my pet’s just being rambunctious . Let me put him in his pen real quick.”
The machine seemed annoyed by the interruption, but he indicated his assent. Steven quickly muted his microphone and fixed Mister with an eye-watering stare. Without a word, he scooped the fluffy up with both arms, ignoring the cry of bad upsies as he crossed the office and placed Mister Kindly into his pen. Steven didn’t like to upset him, but he needed Mister to give him space for this. He really didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself. It made him nervous. Maintaining eye contact with his fluffy, Steven gives a stern “shhh” to Mister Kindly with an accompanying finger in front of his mouth for emphasis.
Things didn’t improve from there. Steven nodded and looked in the webcam’s direction, but his mind was outside Mister Kindly’s pen. After sitting quietly for a few forevers, Mister had walked to the pen’s side and started pawing at it, making a staccato of taps with his leathery hooves. After this failed to get Steven’s attention, Mister Kindly gently called out to him.
“Fwuffy wub Daddeh-me, pwease gib fwuffy scwitchies?”
After this is ignored he repeats it, just in case Steven didn’t hear him. Then again, and again. Anger bloomed heat in his neck and chest. The little stinker was begging even after being shushed! When Steven still didn’t answer Mister says it at speaking volume, definitely loud enough for Daddeh-me to hear, as he knew from prior experience. After this doesn’t work a note of desperation creeps into Mister Kindly’s cries.
“Fwuffy wub Daddeh-me, pweease gib fwuffy scwitchies pwease?”
Despite this Steven doesn’t budge and remains silent. After his great effort Mister falls back, devastated from the silent treatment. Steven finally brings his attention back to the end of his performance review to process the machine’s few remaining words when a shriek fills the room.
“DUMMEH DADDEH-ME, GIB BESTEST FWUFFY BESTEST SCWITCHIES NAO!”
Steven’s mouth dries. He closes his eyes as his hands squeeze painfully into fists, his knuckles aching from pressing against each other. He takes a deep, meditative breath, looks back at his webcam, softly excuses himself, and strides to Mister Kindly’s cage to grab him by the scruff. As soon as his hand gets a grip Mister immediately shits himself while screaming.
“SCREEEEE! BAD UPSIES! BESTEST NU WIKE! FWUFFY SOWWY! WET FWUFFY GU!”
The volume that the little guy could produce only quickened his pace, Mister’s plump fluffy body swinging with each step as his legs flailed around frantically. He threw his head in circles, rotating his body to shake as much as possible, but the little thing couldn’t escape Steven’s iron grip. As he reached the safe room, Steven placed Mister inside and, astonishingly, closed the gate. His justice enacted, Steven rushed back to his office to see what damage had been done.
Author's Note
Phew! Wasn’t that exciting? This chapter took a while to make compared to the first two. Partially because I was scared to write the action “wrong” and partially because I was busy lol. I also realize that this is kind of a slow burn, but hopefully I’m sowing enough seeds that I seem clever in the later chapters. As always I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and expect to see the next one in a week or so!
I wasn’t sure what to put instead of Mister Kindly “pawing” at his pen since fluffies don’t have paws but hooves, but I couldn’t think of another word that described the motion so easily so oh well.
Originally this was going to be even longer, but I decided to end it here because I wasn’t decided on if Steven remembered to turn off his microphone after Mister’s blowup, and how his manager would react. So, I’ve decided to give it some time to marinate. I also decided to make a poll for part of it, just for fun 
Did Steven remember to mute his microphone when he got up the second time? Vote below!
- Yes
- No
0 voters