Justin was at his computer with a box of tissues, bottle of lube, and box of fluffy-flavored Oreo’s when he heard a knock at the door to his triple-padlocked, bolted, doorstopped, bomb-shelter level sealed computer room he used specifically for doing things he didn’t want anyone else knowing he did.
Opening it he saw his pegasus fluffy Fax Machine (unlike far too many fluffy owners Justin was smart enough to realize that giving a fluffy a name with letters in it they couldn’t pronounce was a bad idea) standing there expectantly.
“Yes?”
“Daddeh, can Facks Masheen pwease hab babbehs?”
“No, and that’s final.”
“Bu’ babbehs make ebwyting betteh!”
Justin sighed.
“Nope. I am NOT going through with this plotline.”
He then pulled out a gold-plated desert eagle and fired it point-blank into Fax Machine’s head. Justin then went back inside, locked, bolted, and stopped the door, and finished what he’d been starting.
Which was eating Oreo s through his nose. First he lubed them up, then he shoved them up his nose, then he wiped his nose with the tissues.
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Author’s note: Inspired by one of @BFM101 's stories which had the common plotline of “mare wanting babies and not taking ‘no’ for an answer ends badly for her” I had the idea of a fluffy owner who decided it would be easier to get a new fluffy rather than deal with the inevitable headache.
Also fluffy-flavored Oreo s are made from ground up fluffies, like all Oreo s are.
I don’t think this dude got a Fluffy to be an endearing pet. I’m not suggesting weird sex stuff, but I don’t think he was too innocent in his purchase either.
Still though, smart dude to nip the problem in the bud before it becomes a sprawling epic of one woman’s quest to get dicked down right proper.
