Larry heads towards the Faucheuse Foundation, through the alleyways. He knows where it is. They advertise it, the morons.
Really, they should have just put up a sign saying “Hey, abusers! Come on down!”
They don’t even have any guards!
Larry turns a corner and sees a bum sleeping on the ground, his back against the wall.
Larry managed to get away too. Boris went berserk, and all the pigs focused on him.
Well, Larry got away for now. He’s been laying low in the rough part of town for the last week. Biding his time. He even got a black market gun. He knows a guy.
Larry’s gonna finish the job. And by the time those hugboxing ChaotiX faggots find out about it, it’ll be too late to save Cleo and Julius. It’ll be too late to save their foals.
Larry knows that Kevin got away too, but has no idea where Kevin is.
Oh well. Fuck Kevin. Larry always hated taking orders from that little greasy cu–
whump
Larry loses several teeth.
Did that fucking bum just trip him u–
“You idiots just don’t learn, do you? I’m disappointed in you, Lawrence Sprout. I thought you were smarter than this. Oh, and I know about those women you roofied. You sick bastard. You know one of them was seventeen? Tch. You probably did know. You just didn’t care.”
blip
glop glop glop glop glop
The regeneration vat empties. Julius slowly wakes up.
Valerie carefully lifts him out, and carries the fluffy over to the bathing station.
Meanwhile, mechanical arms descend from the ceiling, thoroughly cleaning out the vat.
Julius has not yet noticed that his front legs are back. He’s still a bit drowsy.
Valerie starts carefully bathing Julius, using Bestest Bath shampoo. The same scent that Mark and Rosa used: lavender.
“How are you feeling, Julius?”
“Am… am bit sweepy, dok-tow.”
“Well, have you noticed?”
“Wut?”
“Your legs are back.”
That got his attention.
You are Cleo, and you’ve settled in nicely at the Fown-day-shun. It’s a very big housie, so you and your babbehs get your own saferoom. But there’s also a big play area, where you can play with other fluffies. They’re all really nice!
Mistah Mark, one of the nice hoomins who has been looking after you, is helping you give your babbehs namesies. They’ve already opened their see-places. He said you’ve been here a week, but you don’t know how many forevers that is.
There’s six in total. You can count this high, because that’s how many babbehs you have.
First, there’s the brown and dark brown babbeh. He has no hornie or wingies. Mistah Mark names him Cadbury. He’s got brown see-places, too.
Then there’s the wingie hownie babbeh. He’s blue and purple. Mistah Mark names him Cincinnatus, but you don’t know how to say that, so you call him Cinny. He’s got blue see-places, like Julius.
Then there’s your yellow and white babbeh. She has little wingies, and mistah Mark names her Omelet. She’s got yellow see-places, like you.
Then there’s your purple and yellow babbeh. He has a hownie. Mistah Cal is checking in on all of you, and he names the babbeh Wario. He says something about “a little yellow cap and a tiny fake mustache.” You don’t know what he’s talking about, but it’s a pretty namesie. Wario has green see-places.
Mistah Cal also says that your funny-talkie hoomin friends said hello, and they asked how you’re all doing, and that they’d like to see you all again.
Then there’s your blue and green babbeh. Mistah Mark names her Gaia. She’s got green see-places like Wario. She doesn’t have wingies or a hownie.
And finally, there’s your last babbeh, who doesn’t have wingies or a hownie either. He’s white and white, and has green see-places too. Miss Rosa names him Blanco, and mistah Cal says he looks like Snowball.
Who’s Snowball?
Mistah Cal explains that Snowball is one of his fluffies, and he’d be happy to let you meet them all.
Now that you’re all done, the hoomins are leaving the saferoom to go talk to each other. Now you’re just trying to make sure you don’t forget the new names, and your babbehs are playing. The hoomins told you to make sure you all make good poopies in the wittewbox, so you’re doing that too.
Before Mistah Mark leaves, he says that you are welcome to stay at the Fown-day-shun for as long as you need to.
He looks a bit saddies when he says that.
But remembering names isn’t hard. It’s one of the few things that fluffies excel at.
Rosa leaves Calvin and Mark to talk, because she’s got to go give another fluffy a bath.
Calvin and Mark walk through the halls.
“They’re surprisingly well-behaved for a family of street fluffs. And especially well-behaved for runaways, Cal. But listen.”
“What’s up, Mark?”
“Cleo and Julius are chipped, Valerie sent us Julius’ owner’s number. We called them last week, and they don’t want them back.”
“Shit. What did the owners say?”
“Cleo’s owner said she didn’t have room for a litter. She said if Cleo came back with a litter, she would drown the foals. She said it was a joke, but it didn’t sound like a joke.”
“We should keep an eye on her. If she does drown any foals, that’s a crime now.”
“Speaking of foals, did you find the guy who dumped a bag of them by Miles’ house?”
“Oh yeah. Walked in on him beating his wife. She was trying to stop him from beating the fluffy after the poor thing got knocked up. Even though it was his own damn fault for not patching that hole in his fence. I called the cops, and handed over the footage from the drone right away. What he was doing to his fluffy wasn’t illegal then, but what he was doing to his wife definitely was. I heard she filed for divorce after that, and took the fluffy with her. They’re both doing better now. What about Julius’ owner, though?”
“He said he was sick of the constant requests for sketties, and got a pit bull instead. The little bastard has already mauled three of the neighbors’ fluffies.”
“Yeesh. Make sure Valerie knows about the–”
“I told her. She said Deston will be having a talk with Julius about sketties being a privilege, not a right, before Julius is brought here. And Victor will be having a talk with Julius’ old owner about his new pet’s choice of meal. Victor was gonna do it today, but he said something else came up, dunno what.”
“Ah, that’s good. Des has never failed to reason with a fluffy yet. Not counting Umbra.”
“Yeah, but Umbra was a shitrat.”
“True, true.”
The conversation is interrupted by Afroman’s Because I Got High.
“Oop, hold on, Mark. Moshi moshi, Cal desu. Yo, Vic. You caught the beanpole? Wait, he was doing what? Wow. And I thought the James lookalike was an idiot.”
LAWRENCE SPROUT?
“…Crap.”
YOU CAN’T GET AWAY FROM ME.