The real Clandestine Fluff shit now. Little more serious. Do not worry, back to the jovial tone when I recount my time with Kill-Mother
It was morning; that almost never happens unless something big was going down or some shitty HR training.
Boss lets us know 2 days before he wanted us and gave us the day before off.
We roll to the location in the van. Bossman standing there with his car, talking to a lawyer. Black suit, black briefcase. Lawyers seen carrying boxes from the building, police standing by.
”Well this looks low key” Jack says.
“Ya” I replied
We both were confused as to what was up. This looked like no HR training session.
We walk up to Bossman, He looks at us.
”Long story short, this guy” Points to lawyer, “is shutting down this fluffy mill. We are to go a sweep.”
”K…”
We move up, bossman in the lead. I look at the lawyer, we lock eyes for a few seconds.
I nod, he nods.
Let’s see where all this leads.
We enter, go through the offices that are being shredded by lawyers, a few cops laze about.
They have not been here long. Just enough time to snatch up papers and rip out hard drives.
This is strange, not anything we should be involved with. We just do population control, not deal with breeders no matter how run-down they are.
”What is the deal boss? When is it we deal with scrubby fluff mills?” I ask
He does not look back
“Just follow my lead”
We step into the fluff kennel. Depressing as hell.
Row of cages on each wall, each with a fluffy sows moaning and coughing.
"Pwease mistah, hewp soon-mommah” among other pathetic lines pour out of the cages.
Lots of different colours, nothing too spectacular. Run down mills shit out run down colours. Most of the good mares end up in more high end breeding facilities.
The ones here will shit out fluffs that will get bought in bulk to abusers, creeps, and those looking for a quick 1 month pet. Those that live will just be out on the street getting thumped by me.
In the back there are 5 milkbags hooked up, a flock of foals in a large cage under them. I have seen milkbags before, but damn those looked wrecked.
Sore outters, faces lifeless, bodies clamped down by worn leather and rusted metal. Under them are the foals, chirping, shitting and fighting for the drops of milk left in the constantly used utters.
Then the smell hit us three, Bossman coughs, me and Jack sniff and move our heads to look away, though it does not help.
A Layer is standing there, cloth covering her face. A sharp suit that shows off her features. Would be cute if she did not have a bitch face.
”Finally made it, this way.” She motions us to follow her.
As she walks, she explains. “We knew we would hit the jackpot, we left these for you to deal with. We are in the lawsuit buiness, not dealing in Fluffs.”
She leads us to a side room, opens the door. All three of us stop, staring.
”Holy shit” Jack states bluntly. In my mind I agreed.
There a top open cage was set up, Two milkbags strapped against the cage wall, Feeding tubes shoved down their toothless mouths.
Resting on the soft blankets chirped 7 Alicorn foals. A rainbow of fluffy colours moved around the cage.
Bossman speaks up after a moment. “Jack, get a few padded boxes. Anon, let’s check them.”
The 7 foals are in more or less peak condition. Still quite young, just really getting their legs under them and no language.
The milkbags have done their jobs, all seven are well fed, brightly colored, and have been kept clean.
The rest of the mill is a hell hole, this cage is perfection and had care.
We check genders, 4 fillies and 3 stallions. How the hell did this happen?
An Alicorn is such a damn rare event. 7 of them, all appearing to be the same age in a dump like this? ‘Shit is weird’ is the main thought running through my head as Jack returns with the protective boxes. They are padded, secured, have a bottle attached with foal formula. Everything a fluffy foal needs to survive for a few hours.
We typically use them for Alicorns, 2 boxes are in each van just in case.
We load them up, they chirp happily on contact, I cannot help to pet the little things here and there.
Males in one box, females in the other.
We get ready to move out, stepping back into the rusy and shit-smelling main kennel. My boss turns and looks at us. “Hand me the boxes.”
We look at each other and do so.
With both boxes in hand he looks a the lawyer then us. “I am taking the package back to HQ. You need to clean up here.”
”Clean up?” Jack responds. “I’m not scooping up shit for mill-fluffs.”
"No jack, you and anon are exterminating every fluffy in here.”
”Wut?”
”Kill everything, do not use company tools, i’m sure you are creative.”
”And the bodies?”
’Leave them” says the lawyer, still holding a cloth to her face. “It will leave a message”
They walkout, the Lawyer holding the door as Bossman holds the boxes.
”Ill meet you back at HQ for a debrief” the Bossman says as the doors close.
We look at each other.
”This is some real black ops shit Jack”
”I know Anon, leave a message? What is this?”
We set to work. I wanted out of this fast.
Is this wrong and fucked up? Probably. But It’s not like I’ve killed Fluffys on mass before.
Besides…
FUCKING DENTAL.
We figure out the plan, we have grabbed baseball bats the workers kept around. We will move down the line of cages, snuffing out the sows one cage at a time.
Jack opens the first cage and pulls the fat sow out
”PLEASE MISTER! NO HURT SOON-MUMMUH”
Jack whips the sow down to the ground, the wind is knocked out of her. A few bones are broken, She looks up
”PLEASE… NUU….”
My bat caves in her head, shit starts streaming out of her. A chorus of screaming and bleating Fullfies fills the room. Next cage.
”NUUU! PWEASE HUMMIN! NUU HUR…”
Slamming into to the ground stops her sentence. My bat cracks mid body, shit and blood shoots out of her onto the concrete floor.
”Nuuuuu Pweese!”
Second hit is to the head.
This repeats until he hit a sow giving birth due to the stress of all the death screams, bangs, and the smell of blood. I am doing the grabbing now
“NUUU! HUUMIN! BIGGEST POOPIES! NUU!”
I grab her leg, her body rolling over her first bloody foal. It is twisted and crushed by friction.
I throw her to the floor, she cracks her head, starts to babble. The impact caused blood the flow from her, a mess of newborns struggling in the blood.
Jack slams her head with a bat.
The next sow the thrown to the grown onto the bloody mess and is taken care of.
Any foals not crushed will drown in blood or die of exposure.
We continue on down the one side of the room, killing every occupied cage.
We reach the foal cages at the back. I slam my bat down blunt end like a spear. Jack does the same.
The foals get crushed under us. Mostly we hear chirps of pain, fear. Every now and then we hear a “Nuuu” or “Why” from the more mature ones.
It’s a bloody mess in those cages. Foals crippled, limping sobbing until we finish them off. I turn my attention to the milkbags as Jack heads to the Alicorn room to finish off the milkbags there.
The milkbags saw everything. Each and every foal crushed. Their eyes tear up.
If they felt any purpose in their constrained lives, it is gone now.
I cave in each milkbags head. I swing straight down. On the first, one eye pops out from the impact, blood flows down over her body.
The other 4 look at me. Their feeding tubes prevent any talking. I can hear only muffled cries from them. The bat comes down, ending them one at a time.
The last tries to struggle, but lack of legs, leather straps and metal force her to sit still as I wind up my swing.
I come down with full force wanting to end her quickly. The impact drives her skull fragments into her body. A fountain of blood flows into the cage over the dead foles.
Me and Jack meet up at the other row of cages. The carnage starts anew.
This time there is way more shit. These fluffs have seen, smelt and heard the whole ordeal. They know we are coming for them.
The first one struggles
”NUUU! Fluffy Wuv! NUUU!”
The shit and piss makes it hard for me to get a solid grab.
Eventually I get a lock on her leg. I rip her out with force. Completing the motion I swing her body down, slamming her head first into the dirty concrete. She spasms once. I move on.
We move down the line much like before. Me a Jack switch roles as our arms are getting tired.
The last one. I grab in to reach her. The sow is wedged in tight, the shit is making it hard to get a hold on while she fights with all her strength.
’Pass the batt” I say.
I angle the bat at her face
”NUU! Fluffy Soon-Mummah! Go way!
I slam the bat forward.
The fluffy screams in pain as her snout is caved in.
I strike again. Blood starts flowing. Demented wailing fills the cage.
Again and again until whimpers, then silence.
The room is silent. I walk back through the room, stepping over dead sows, the squashing of blood and fur under my boots.
I then hear it. “chirp”
The fluffy biology betrays them. Their design fucks them over at every time in the cruel reality of nature.
Their colours make them easy to spot, their over friendliness to humans makes them victims of such suffering. Their designed intelligence makes them incapable of understanding threats and survival until it is too late. Their foals make noise when distressed, announcing their presence.
I stopped and slowly turned towards a closed cage I thought empty before.
The view from the cage must have been of a bat-wielding psychopath. Face dead of emotion, except for deadly intent in the eye, turning towards you.
I open the cage, two foals chip in distress. Not many days old. One is a deep turquoise coated unicorn. The second a bright pink pegasus. They are stunning. I pause a moment to take them in.
Again, how did two beauties like this come from a dump of a fluff mill.
The chirping continues. I reach into the cage and grab them both…
Back at HQ we wash up. Pass by the office workers and Fluffy keepers. We did not say our usual greetings.
We step into Bossman’s office. We sit down and just look at him.
”We are not doing that wild shit again unless we are in the know Bossman” I say.
”That was Fucked” Jack states. “Extermination on the streets ya, that was something else.”
Bossman looks me in the eye.
”Hasbio”
We just look at him.
“They are not out of the fluffy game. In fact they technically still hold the patents on the little fuckers DNA, no matter if it is in the wild or not. They want to keep some public image so some shell companies are doing the dirty work.”
”So this is some kind of Clandestine Fluff ops?” I ask looking at Jack.
”Pretty much. You guys have signed the non-disclosure agreements so ya, you are.” Bossman says, leaning back.
”What’s the endgame? Why the work on Hasbios part?” Jack asks
Silence for a moment
”Alicorns” I answer
It all kinda makes sense. They are rare things. Rare means valuable.
”Why not just cook Alicorns up in a lab?” I think out loud. “Why all the footwork?”
Bassman answers “Alicorns are only found in the wild. Never have shown up in the lab.”
The answer takes us aback, our minds start racing.
”No shit. Really?” Jack states. “So the only way to get them is jacking foals?”
”Yes, we get them, Hasbio picks them up, we get paid, science is done.” Bossman replies.
”So what’s the point, I thought Fluffy development stopped once PETA broke the fuckers loose?” I asked.
”For the most part, yes All I know is that if Hasbio can get Alicorns figured out, they can improve upon them, make fluffies what they were intended to be.” Bassman says as he sips his coffee.
“If there is none or few in the wild, then they can actually market them,” I finish the floating thought.
“Correct” Bossman says. “In the meantime we keep the population from going insane, find alicorns along the way, and do extra jobs for Hasbio when they ask. Just like you did today.”
“Also keep your eyes out for any strangeness, the more fluffs get out there, the more weird shit will occur.” Bossman says on second thought.
”And what do we get out of all this” asks Jack.
” Dental insurance.” I reply
”And a raise now that you are at ‘in the know’ pay grade.” the bossman says with a little smirk.
Me and Jack look at each other. ‘Fair enough,’ we think.
We get a day off to get back into the sleep cycle for the night shifts. Our pay bump comes in the next week. Decent pay, help us out both. I take on new expenses, so the extra cash goes a long way.
Nothing covert pops up for a while, until the night me and Kill-Mother team up.
That is next time. Until then fluff fags.
(note there should be a > at the start of each line, oh well)
Mission 1 — Mission 3