Combine Harvester - Story by Hornlarry (Booru ID 39008) Art by RipOffMcGee (Booru ID 42236)

My family have farmed the land for generations. Its arable farmin’, mostly wheat and corn, in golden fields, far as the eye can see. I love farmin’, but I hate pests.

Used to be, worst things we’d get wus aphids, weavels, an’ gophers. But then the fluffies came. Not that many at first, jus’ a few littluns, nibblin’ at the corn, gettin’ into mah vegetable garden an’ gnawin’ on my taters an’ green beans. I could forgive 'em that, but then the swarms came.

You heard about Cleveland? Yeah, course you have. Them city folk does nuthin’ but complain, an’ the guvmint always listens to 'em. But where’d those bastards be when the fluffies come to my farm? No-where, thats where they be.

Anyway, before all that, as it turned out, ma daughter Chelsea decided she loved the lil critters. At first I didn’t like ‘em, but she begged an’ begged, so eventually I let her adopt a few ferals. In no time at all, the female was pregnunt, swollen belly full of baby shit-rats. She died before they were born though, chewin’ through a lectrical wire. Still, I had to cut the ballzack off of the male, less he got the other mare pregnant. Boy oh boy did he beg and scream not to lose his “special lumps”. I needn’t have bothered though, very next day, the other female done run out in front of my pickup. Fluffy pancake.

Still, Chelsea loved that little guy, ballzack or no. He was a brown fluffy with a stripey yellow an’ brown mane an’ tail. Chelsea called him Bumblebee. She would dress him up, carry him round, treated him jus’ like a lil’ teddy bear. I gotta admit, he did look kinda cute. Sounded that way too with all that baby talkin’ they do. I guess those boys at Hasbio designed 'um that way.

So, Chelsea loved Bumblebee, and Bumblebee loved Chelsea. I new the lil varmint was scared of me, who wouldn’t be after you took his ballzack with a pair of pliers? Even so, he’d call me “daddah”, or “siw”, he’d call my wife “mumma” or “ma’am” an’ was real polite around the farm. He’d get up to no good once in a while, chasin the ducks or fallin’ into a grain silo, but all in all he were a good lil beast.

So one day, I was drivin’ in my truck, an Bumblebee wus like, “Can I come daddah?” an’ I was like sure you can lil fella, so he hops on up into the passenger seat an’ we drove into town. He wus all lookin’ out the window, tongue wagglin’ jus’ like he were a dawg or sumthin. Then he was all wavin’ at passers by and sayin’ hello. Those townfolk loved him. Pretty soon, he’d ride with me whenever I went into town fer supplies.

After that, he started ridin the tractor. Then, one day, he’s like, “Can I dwive daddah?” an’ I was like, sure you can lil fella. I mean, ain’t like we wus downtown right then. We wus in the middle of an empty field. Why not let the lil varmint drive if that wus what he wanted? His feet couldn’t reach the peddles in any case, so he wus jus’ steerin’, not that his hooves cud grip the wheel that much. I tell you what though, he loved drivin’! And I laughed my sorry ass off watchin’ him doin’ donuts and crashin’ into trees.

That night, Chelsea an’ ma wife wus complainin’, sayin’ I wus spendin’ too much time with Bumblebee, when he wus Chelsea’s pet. I was like, THIS IS MY DAMN FARM, AN’ IF YOU SORRY BITCHES DON’T LIKE IT, YOU CAN GO FIND SOMEWHERE ELSE TO LIVE. Then I stormed off, best to calm down before I broke somethin’. Bumblebee done puffed out his cheeks and said sumthin’ about “sowwy hoofies” and stormed out with me. We went out to the barn an’ started drinkin’ moonshine.

Anyhoo, I get a call from ma neighbour, Frank. Frank tell’s me there’s a massive, enormous mega herd o’ fluffies headed ma way. I’d been watchin’ all about the megaheards on Fox News, an I jus’ knew if those dirty bastards got to my crops, that’d be the end of ‘em. So I got my shotgun an’ headed for the tractor. But then I changed my mind, an headed for the combine harvester instead. It was fluffy harvestin’ time.

Then the darndest thing happened. Bumblebee, who’d had a sip or two of moonshine, wus like, “Can I come daddah?”, an I wus like, sure you can lil buddy, but I don’t think you’ll be likin’ it real much, I’m fixin’ to go fluffy huntin’. Then he asked what fluffy huntin’ wus. I told him, thinkin’ he’d run off cryin’ to mummah-Chelsea, but once I told him they wus bad fluffies, he was all for it.

So me an’ Bumblebee gets up into the Combine Harvester an’ sets off. Pretty soon I see’s a group of fluffies. Not the whole herd, but jus’ y’now, a scoutin’ party. I figure if I run them over an’ turn ‘em into fluffy salsa, the others might get the message and find another farm. So I heads right for ‘em. There’s no way you’d catch a rabbit or squirrel with a harvester, but fluffies is designed to be unable to run away from small children, meanin’ they can’t run for shit. I told lil Bumblebee to cover his eyes, but he kept em’ open the whole time. Watched me run ‘em down and their fluff an’ blood an’ guts get spewed out the back o’ the harvester. Wide eyed, the whole time.

Then he starts laughin’. Jus’ a chuckle at first, but then more, an’ more. Pretty soon he was laughin’ real hard, and I started laughin’ too. Then he wus like “Dewes MOAW fwuffies daddah!” and sure enough there wus. We started headin’ for them, laughin’ like maniacs. When we hit em he squeaked with glee and started laughin’ like a banshee. To this day, I still think it was hilarious. Then he wus like “Can I dwive daddah?” an I wus like, sure you can lil buddy, so I put my lunchbox down on the gas, an let the lil’ dude drive for a while. Meantime, I’m leanin’ out the winder, aimin’ my shotgun an’ keepin’ a lookout for more of the dirty bastards. All the while, Bumblebee an’ me is laughin’ our asses off.

I see’s some more, an I’m like, “Fluffies over there Bumblebee,” and damn if he don’t drive that Harvester right at ‘em! That beast was born to drive a combine harvester if anyone ever wus. He drivin’, I’m shootin’ and we’re both laughin like crazed banshees, an drinkin’ moonshine. By this point, I’m feelin mighty drunk, and I have no idea how Bumblebee is keepin’ it up. But keep it up he does.

We sees another group, and he heads on over. I’m shootin, when suddenly I see some little kids with fishin’ nets. They wus fixin’ to catch some feral fluffies, tryin’ to sell em’ probably. Anyways, I don’t think Bumblebee has seen ‘em, so I try to get back in the harvester winder to tell him to stop. But damn if my shirt an’ dungarees din’t get snagged on a handle, stoppin’ me frum gettin’ back in! Stop Bumblebee! I’m yellin’. Stop the harvester! But he jus’ keeps on laughin’ and keeps on drivin’. Those kids are gettin’ real close. I’m yellin’, Stop Bumblebee! STOP! But he keeps on goin’. By this point I’m yellin’ an’ screamin’ and tearin’ ma clothes, tryin’ to stop him, but I jus’ couldn’t get free, an’ the fluffy can’t hear me cus of the whirrin’ blades an’ the engine.

I don’t know if he saw ‘em, or if he din’t. Maybe he just thought it wus fluffies he wus runnin’ over. There wus blood all over the blades an’ cabin, and windsheild anyway, so a lil more wouldn’t of surprised him none. I don’t think he even heard their screams. But I did.

An’ thats how it happened ya honor. That’s God’s honest truth.

@RipOffMcGee kindly drew a picture based on my story


Link to Index of Hornlarry Stories

38 Likes

drunk fluffy on a rampage (allegedly) now thats something i havent seen yet lol

11 Likes

The plot twists is interesting to say the least

11 Likes

I think you were the first person to do some art for my stories - its bringing back fond memories to see it all. Crazy to think 2016 was like 5 years ago already, almost 6.

7 Likes

“Well, I don’t believe you. But this is a rural Midwest community and it sets a bad precident to throw the book at a farmer driving a combine. So time served and you have to let the kids’ parents kick you in the nuts.”

4 Likes

Those where fun times if you ever want any art just drop me a line

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It’s nice seeing you civil Mcgee.

Incidentally, loved the story.

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i am always civil

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MFW Tractors

That you are

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Wonderful work, both of you. I love how you captured the dialect.

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Good story, and a twist in the end that its was in the court due to the kids death :cold_sweat:

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farmer gets out
Quespike: cheers bro ill drink to that

Dont tag this as hugbox, damn it


Found this maymay in 4chan archives

2 Likes

Wait, but how did the kids not see the tractor? Or did they get hit because they were trying to pull feral fluffies out of the blades?

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To be honest I never really thought about that, because of course they’d have seen it coming and would have been capable of out-running it, unlike the Fluffies. Your idea that they might have been trying to save Fluffies from the blades is a really good one, and Id like to make that the reason why they were killed. Thanks for a good idea that makes sense dude.

2 Likes