Jimmy turns and steps through the small antechamber between the small “Smarty Saferoom” and the lab proper. Stepping into a clinically white room lit by slightly buzzing fluorescent lights, Jimmy lets out a contented sigh. While to most people this environment would seem cold and impersonal, to Jimmy it is a paradise of sterility and order in a chaotic world.
Lining the walls of the room are a number of epoxy topped counters, various technical equipment and storage mediums can be found carefully arranged on every available surface. In the center of the room is an island, topped in stainless steel, with a large drain in the middle. Various instruments ranging from surgical tools to cleaning equipment hang from the ceiling over the center island.
A large set of frosted glass double doors take up the majority of the wall to his far right, with a large neon green “Exit” sign over it. Behind him is the door to the “Smarty Lab”, and to his right is what’s referred to as “General Population”. Most ominously is the dark red painted steel door in the far corner, written on which in ominous black ink is “Operating Room”.
Jimmy is brought out of his assessment of his slice of heaven by a soft but shrill female voice. “Wow, you managed to get out of there without a splattering of feces? Lucky,” Ellie, one of his lab partners slightly jeered at him while flashing a coy smile. Standing half a foot shorter than him, blonde hair, fair skin, and an athletic build; she was hard on the ears but easy on the eyes.
“Pretty sure he would have tried if I hadn’t found a steaming pile of his stomach contents on the ground when I walked in. How’re things going in Gen Pop,” asks Jimmy, addressing the question to the only other worker in this part of the lab, Dan. Bald as the day he was born, brown skinned, and slightly chubby, Dan could be a poster boy for “Geeky College Boy Magazine”.
“Can’t complain too much, the normal amount of grief from adding new fluffs. A little bit of bullying and complaining about ‘no smell pretty fluffies’ but I’ve got it under control.” Dan tends to be a bit too soft on the test subjects, but he’s the best damn organic chemist in the country and is far from a hugboxer; a trait which is impossible to have and maintain this line of work.
They’ve been working together for two years at this point, each of them fresh out of their doctorate programs and head hunted by FluffBio at its creation. They started out as simple interns under more experienced doctors but it quickly became clear that each is a prodigy not only in their own fields, but in surgical experimentation too. “Ever think what this place would do without us,” ask Jimmy to no one in particular.
The three of them are the pinnacle of fluffy science at FluffBio, a merger of Fluffmart and Hasbio after the latter suffered a market crash from the top of the industry. They’ve been given their own lab, a suitably massive budget, and all the ‘problem cases’ the rest of the company couldn’t quite tackle. These range from curing smartyism to “ simply” making a fluffy that doesn’t offend its owner’s sensibilities.
Their current accomplishments include eliminating the fluffy’s natural hatred of alicorns, but the treatment is so expensive only luxury mills can afford it. They’ve created an aerosol spray that is non-toxic to humans, but causes infertility in any female fluffy that inhales it. Most impressively though, and the main source of their massive budget, the team isolated and recreated the alicorn gene for FluffBio’s personal breeding mares.
They test on a mixture of lab grown fluffies, surrendered house pets, and very rarely on ferals. Pets and ferals are selected for their personalities and psychological makeup, while lab grown fluffs are carefully created for their genetic make-up. They currently allow the fluffies to socialize with each other as it helps avoid the ‘Wan Die’ loop, something the team hasn’t yet been able to cure, as well as allowing them to more easily observe the effects of their tests.
The fluffies live in a heavily regulated control tank called “General Population”, where every aspect of their lives, from temperature, food quality, and sensory stimuli are controlled by the trio of laboratory doctors. They have a number of ‘nurse fluffs’ as they refer to them, which are heavily augmented to allow more careful observation in the tank. These fluffies can also be used to introduce scenarios to the General Populace, to test the success of experiments, and psychological theories.
“Wampage am hate Maws, Maws am Wampage’s wowstest fwiend,” the strange pink wingie fluffy that confuses even Poptart states matter of factly, to no one in particular. “Wampage wan’ gib wowstest huwties to Maws, even wan’ gib huggies!” A loud gasp escapes the wingie fluffy before he screeches loud enough to hurt Poptart’s hear-places. He crumples over, grabbing at his no-nos while screaming, “SPECIAL WUMPS FEEW… so… good. Huuhuu…”
“Dummeh Wampage stiww get bad owwies, wondah when he gunna weawn,” Poptart, one of the safe room’s Nurse Fluffs thinks to herself. She feels an urge to scratch the itchies on her neck scar, but knows better than to do so. She also feels the strange movement in her see-place again and feels the urge to tell Rampage what a dummeh he is being.
“Wampage, 'ou is so funny,” Mars, Rampage’s bestest friend, manages to gasp out in between fits of laughter. “‘Ou am awways make Maws’ heart hab biggest happies!” Poptart stares blankly at the equally strange fluffy. An odd pairing, one a pointy friend who never gets upset in any way, the other a wingie friend that speaks the opposite of whatever they mean. Poptart had been told by their thinkie-place friend that she needs to spend lots of time with the two weirdos today though, and she doesn’t get special treats unless she does what her thinkie-place friend says to do.
KzZzZt “Wemembeh Numbah 22, 'ou wiww hab wowstest huwties when ‘ou don’ teww dah twuthsies” KzZzZt. A robotic voice speaks from the itchies place on Poptart’s throat, chastising Rampage. Poptart hasn’t been able to speak ever since her neck-friend came around, but sometimes her neck-friend speaks on her behalf.
“Huuhuu… wai Poptawt bein’ so meanies to Wampage. Poptawt can’t use Wampage’s namsie when fwuffies am awone, huuhuu…,” Rampage complains while limping slowly towards Mars. “Maws, pwease gib Wampage wowstest owwies now ow Wampage wiww hab biggest happies.”
“Siwwy Wampage, Maws wiww awways be hewe to gib Wampage ‘Wowstest Huwties’,” Mars giggles to himself while sitting on his rump and grasping Rampage in a very nice looking huggie. Poptart wishes she could get nice huggies, but none of the other fluffs in the safe room liked her very much. She turns and walks a few feet away, giving a stuffy friend a huggie while keeping her one good eye on Rampage and Mars.
One example of the lab’s nurse mares is Number-7, or “Poptart” as she used to be known. She is a top of the line Alicorn, and ex-pet of the old CFO of Hasbio. When he was arrested along with the other upper management she was sold off to a luxury breeder so the CFO could make bail. After the FluffBio merger a private eye was hired to track her down, so as to keep her impressive pedigree from flooding the market with Alicorn genes.
When she was brought back, the ex-CFO managed to convince someone higher up in the company to keep her out of the breeding mill, so instead she ended up in the labs, a slightly better fate though not by much. Ellie then removed her vocal chords and fitted an electronic voice transmitter where they used to be, as well as a smaller one in her inner ear. She also removed one of her eyes and replaced it with a live feed camera. In short fashion the trio had their first nurse mare, and an easier way to observe goings on in the General Population tank.
Currently 7 has been ordered to observe an unlikely friendship between Number-22 and Number-36, two of Ellie’s more recent experiments. 22 used to be a breeding stud but after being bred relentlessly for months on end he suffered a mental break and tried to “enf” everything in sight. Ellie fitted him with a shock collar around the base of his testicles and a portable lie detector, set to shock him any time he tells a truth. This is a dual experiment to see if physical trauma can fix his pyscho-physiological response to the extended sexual trauma, as well as seeing how long a fluffy forced to do something against their nature can last before breaking.
Number-36 was a feral smarty found outside the lab with his herd. He offered himself as a sacrifice to let his herd go, so the custodian taking care of the lawn decided to see if the lab could use him instead of killing him. He was treated with a complex lobotomy and a series of electroshock treatments to render him unable to feel any negative emotions.
These two were quickly outcast from the rest of the fluffies in the General Population tank due to their quirks and found comfort in each other’s presence. 36 is unable to be offended by 22’s words and 36 is a comfort to 22 when he slips up. Number-7 has been ordered to keep an eye on this relationship so Ellie can catalog how two fluffs nearing a mental break may be able to mend each other’s psyche.
They’re about to receive a new arrival in the tank so 7’s focus will be ordered to be shifted to them. The team is still debating as to what experiment on their backlog would apply best to Number-44. Currently they’re keeping him under observation to see if he qualifies for any of their smarty based programs. Jimmy can hear a soft "Huuhuu’’ coming from the small saferoom as he stands chatting with his team mates.
Cloud lays huddled in the corner of his saferoom, on a section of the padded floor that is slightly softer than the rest. He is softly huuhuuing to himself, unable to understand why his Daddy hasn’t come to save him yet. It’s been a whole forever and his Daddy still wasn’t here. The only human Cloud has seen so far is a strange short human in yellow not-fluff who came in, and cleaned up his poopies before calling him a “kosa da merda,” and walking out angrily.
It seems all the humans here hate Cloud and he doesn’t know why. He’s always been the perfect fluffy! He makes good poopies in the litterbox unless there’s something really interesting on FluffTV, he always makes sure his Daddy sees him stack blockies for him, and even gave daddy’s not-hooves special huggies when they looked sad. Cloud couldn’t think of any way a fluffy could be better than him!
Suddenly there is a loud Ka-Thunk noise and Cloud almost makes scaredy poopies, instead just letting out a scaredy fart and some pee-pees. A holey thing opens up on the wall and Cloud could smell the meanie yellow not-fluff human from before, hiding behind the holey thing. There’s a crumpling sound and some kibble comes rolling through the holey and into the bowl near the water bottle. Cloud had, had kibble before but hated it so he made sure to only make bad poopies until his Daddy started getting him Sketti Kibbles. Those tasted so good, but weren’t good as the Sketti he got every other bright time.
Standing up out of the puddle of tears he had been wallowing in Cloud approaches the kibble and gives it a careful sniff. He reels back in disgust, these aren’t Sketti Kibbles, in fact these smelled worse than the poopie kibble Daddy tried to give him before he taught Daddy a lesson. Losing what little self control he has for a moment, Cloud turns and lifts his tail. He announces angrily, “Cwoud gunna gib bad kibbwe wowstest sowwy poopies,” before spraying semi-liquid feces all over the bowl and surrounding wall. “Ha! Dummeh kibbwe betteh tuwn to Sketti Kibble ow get eben wowse!”
Slowly the room begins to fill with the acrid smell of the sorry-poopies, and while Cloud waits for the kibble to apologize and turn into something tastier, a loud noise starts to blare in the safe-room. Cloud covers his hear-places and lets out what little was left in his stomach out onto the floor in fear. A voice begins repeating, “Bad Poopies from Unit-44, Bad Poopies from Unit-44.” The bump-bumps in Cloud’s chestie begin happening so fast and hard he thinks his chestie will explode.
A loud stomping can be heard coming from the direction of the doorway. “…uST WHAT I NEEDED,” a loud voice echoes from beyond the door. Suddenly the door slams open and the monster Not Daddy is standing there with a scary look on his face. “You GOD DAMN shitrat, it’s not even the end of your first day and you’ve shit twice. You’re not getting off easy this time.” The monster opens the door on the wall from which he got the sorry stick earlier in the day, reaching for the one covered in metal bumps. To Cloud it might as well have been a bull whip, and the monster is approaching him with it.
“Stupid… fucking… asshole! It’s the end of the day and you couldn’t wait 10 more minutes until you’d be someone else’s problem,” punctuation each of the first three words with strong strikes with the metal sorry stick, leaving deep and uneven lashes deep in Cloud’s side.
“SCREEEE! EBEN WOWSTEST HUWTIES!! Cwoud… Fowty-Fouw am sowwy daddeh, dummeh kibbwe no taste pwetty,” the fluffy now rasping quickly trying to catch his breath. “Nebah do it again, Fowty-Fouw nu no what Cwou- Fowty-Fouw do but am so sowwies!”
Breathing heavily the monster seems to calm down slowly, muttering something to himself the fluffy can barely hear, “-surrender… treat well… god damn ethics division…” The monster takes the now bloody sorry stick and sets it on the ground. Turning to a different door on the wall Cloud hadn’t yet noticed. Inside there was… A SNAKEY MONSTER! “PWEASE NO FEED FOWTY-FOUW TO SNAKEY MUNSTAH! …Fowty-fouw nu no what do, but no desewbe 'dis!”
The monster takes the snakey monster in his hands, and points it at Cloud. “Turn. Around.,” Cloud can hear the venom in his voice and struggles to his feet, the deep bleeding wounds on his flank causing him to whimper. He turns, showing his poopie place to the monster. It feels like red hot pokers are being stabbed into him with every step. He has a strong inclination that he needs to keep quiet or things will be worse. After a few moments of silence there is a hissing noise, he’s so scared that the snakey monster is about to get him!
Suddenly Cloud is blasted with cold water, shocking his system and causing his body to freeze up. He falls on his side, exposing his rear and the fresh wounds on his flank to the cold blasts of water. For many forevers he is sprayed with the water, and he can’t even manage to tell the monster that water is bad for fluffies. After a moment, the spray of water is shifted to the wall and kibble bowl that he had splattered with bad poopies just a minute ago, and a line of watery poopies and bad smelling kibble begins to flow past Cloud and into a weird slotted thing in the middle of the floor.
Just as Cloud is about to catch his breathies, the water is focused back on him, and getting stronger. He can see the shadow of the monster leaning over him while the deep cuts in his side are assaulted with ice cold water. As quickly as it returned, the water vanishes, and Cloud can hear a glassy sound. Struggling to turn his eyesies over to look at the monster looming over him, Cloud sees it’s holding a bottle of red liquid. He’s got some clear thing with the red liquid on it held over the cuts on his side… it looks like there’s a drop of the liquid coming off of it…
“EEEEEE WOWSTEST BUWNIES, CWOUD’S SIDESIE AM AN FIWE!! MUNSTAH… Munstah pwease help Cwoud! Pwease nu want go fowebah sweepies!” The monster gets a twisted smile on their face as two more drops come down, one for each of the deep cuts on Cloud’s side. Cloud begins shrieking and rolling around, his voice getting hoarse to the point that the shrieks only come out as choking gasps after a few moments.
The monster stands up, closes the bottle of red liquid and speaks calmly but not kindly to Cloud. “First off, your name is Forty-Four. Second off, that was a special human magic that will keep your side… ‘hurties’ from getting worse.” Bending down, the monster lifts up the slotted thing in the ground and pulls out a large cup from underground. He takes the contents of the cup and pours it into the bowl that held the kibble not too long ago.
“Third, you’ve forgotten two of our rules. You eat everything given to you, and you clean up your own accidents. You won’t be getting any more food until that bowl…” pointing at the bowl he poured the floor cup into, “…is empty. We put special things in your food to make you heal extra quick so unless you eat all of that ‘food’, those ‘owwies’ are gunna stick around for a long time.”
Cloud shakily gets to his feet, wincing with every step and walks towards the bowl, looking at the heaping mixture of shit water, bloated kibble, and even small chunks of flesh removed from Cloud’s side. He looks up, tears in his eyes at the monster, “pwease Mistah, Fowty-Fouw nu wanna eat dese nummies. Wiww take dummeh kibbwe now, am sowwy.”
“You could poop out a gold bar and it still wouldn’t matter to me. Until that bowl is empty, you don’t get any more ‘nummies’. My friends and I were discussing what to do with you, but I think I know exactly what we’ll do now…” The monster has an evil look on his face when he says that last bit. “I’ll be checking on you first thing in the morning, and after that we’ll talk about your… role here.”
The human laughs softly to himself and leaves the room, leaving Cloud to his shit and blood soup. “Huuhuu… nu smeww pwetty, maybeh Cwoud can wait untiw Daddeh comes back befow habin’ to eat poopie nummehs… nu know what do but Cwoud must be wowst fwuffy ebah…”
Jimmy exits the safe room, passes through the antechamber and straight to the whiteboard against the wall to his right. A number of experiments are written on the board, from the biggest text at the top of the board reading “Curing Smartyism” to a number of smaller text bubbles with sticky notes around them. Jimmy looks at the one bubble written in red marker, with large exclamation points around it and the words “too dangerous for test subjects?” written in a box under it. Taking a black marker, Jimmy circles the text bubble, writes his name in the larger circle and pauses for a moment, contemplating if 44 truly deserved this, before writing down 44 and underlining it 3 times.
[Part 1]
This is meant to be made easier to read through the use of colored text to represent the different fluffs, if anyone knows how to get that to work beyond what is stated in the FAQ (which doesn’t work) I’d be much appreciative.