This is outrageous.
Ever since I’ve started on my backpacking trip in the national park I’ve encountered three of these things. And every time I always catch them eating the local mosses and flowers. In these high elevations, in the alpine zone, foliage takes up to 30 years to grow back after it is damaged, and this entitled little faggot is destroying it! And I know when it’s gonna shit it out, the fetid crap it leaves behind will destroy even more of this precious flora. Fluffy infestations are the worst thing to happen to the worlds ecosystems since the industrial revolution. I am just sick and fucking tired of seeing this shit damn near daily even though I’m dozens of miles from the nearest town. But what the fuck am I gonna do? I’m just one person…
Wow. Just my fucking luck. Its a god damn fluffy. And its eating the precious alpine grass. This makes four. God they’re so ugly. Fucking bright neon purple fur and neon green mane. That’s the worst color combination that I’ve seen yet. I don’t get why people hate on “poopie” fluffies when this shit exists. God, and look at its face. It’s so smug, happily chewing away decades of natures work. I wonder how many endangered flower species this thing helped decimate. This is the last straw. I’m not gonna let this slide anymore.
“Hey faggot, catch!”
CRUNCH!
Bullseye! The rock I just threw at it nailed it in the face! Wow, look at that damage. He looks completely ruined, like he got a grenade thrown at him. He’s screaming loudly. I can see some busted teeth lying on the ground. One eye is completely swollen shut, and a massive gash has been carved right down the width of his muzzle. The muzzle looks like it could be twisted off with ease now.
As I observe the damage, I begin to wonder why I didn’t do this the last three times I came across fluffies in the wilderness. I realize it was because I came across all of them at near sun down when I was tired from walking all day and I needed to set up camp and go to sleep. I quietly curse at myself for being so lazy, while also basking in my luck that I found a fluffy in the afternoon near lunchtime. Speaking of lunch, what am I having?
I reach into my backpack and find… nothing. I’m out of food. Oh yeah, I ate all of it last night because I’m fucking fat and I got hungry. Great. I know a route to make it back to my vehicle in time before sundown, but that will be incredibly difficult running on empty with a heavy backpack. I ponder my predicament for a while before I hear a noise.
“wh… why u do dat mwista… du nu wrong! worstest owwies… huuuu huuu huuu… hewp…”
You know, I’ve done a lot of things in my life, but I’ve never actually eaten a fluffy before. I heard that they naturally taste like sweet pork and that you can eat fluffy meat raw like its sushi. Why Hasbio decided to make fluffies delicious is beyond me, very weird choice to make… but its not one that I am complaining about right now. I haven’t eaten all day and it’s almost 1 o’clock. Also, something that tastes like pork sounds incredible considering I’ve been living off of power bars and Chili Cheese Fritos for almost two weeks straight. Looks like today will be the day I try something new for once.
“mwista… hewp? pwease… wowstest hurties everywewe… want huggies…”
“Oh, I’ll give you huggies, alright.”
I forcefully pick up the shitrat with both of my hands. I then hold him close to my body and give him a hug. What I am about to do is so heinous that even just doing it to a fluffy could get me in trouble, so I feel like I should make this thing happy at least for a tiny moment.
“daddeh i wuv u… what awe we guna do? pway? bestest daddeh!”
God, did he already forget what I did to his face? He’s still bleeding!
“Oh, you’re gonna find out very soon. Just you wait.”
I take out my hunting knife. I breath in and out heavily, taking in what I am about to do to this creature. Even if this creature is better off dead, it probably doesn’t deserve this. Oh well, I’m hungry.
I make contact with the fluffy fluff to the sharp edge of the knife, and I begin to shave the fur on the back. I am aware that the back meat is tougher and chewier, but I know I won’t be getting any poopy intestines in my mouth if I attack the fluffy from that angle.
“stawp… no wike shavies… cowd…”
After about a minute of careful shaving, the back of the fluffy is completely barren, revealing pale, flabby skin. The entire time the fluffy was squirming it’s legs in a futile attempt to break free of my gripped fist, but he had no chance of ever succeeding. Fluffy muscles are notoriously weak and frail, and even if they weren’t I had positioned my hand in such a way that his head and four limbs were sticking straight out from between my fingers, rendering them impossible to be used.
Now begins the fun part. I make contact with my blade to the soft, weak skin. Blood immediately draws. The fluffy screeches loudly. I continue. I carve and fillet the back skin straight off the fluffy, slowly, slowly enough as to not damage the meat underneath the skin before the skin is completely flayed. The fluffy screams louder and more gutterally the more I carve and cut. I consider slitting its throat before I dig in with my teeth, but its agonal bellowing is comforting to my ears after knowing just what it’s been doing to the ecosystem for its entire life, so I opt out of putting it out of it’s misery. Soon enough, the back skin is completely peeled off. In my hungry desperation I put my tongue to the skin to see if it’s edible, and it proves to be completely tasteless and of the consistency of vagina. Safe to say that this part will be tossed to the scavengers.
With the back of the fluffy completely mutilated, spine and meat exposed to the world, I bite in with my teeth. The worst scream I have ever heard a fluffy make is generated from the initial severing of the spinal cord. The fluffies lower body immediately goes limp upon my first bite. I continue eating the meat out of it’s back while the fluffy continues to wail horribly, feeling every second of the ordeal. Surprisingly, raw fluffy meat does seem to be edible and is quite delicious. Due to the fact that fluffy ponies are wholly artificial in nature with bizarre biology and anatomy, most parasites are not able to find a home inside of fluffy pony bodies which renders them usually safe to eat raw. Still, half way through eating out the fluffies back side I get paranoid that this probably isn’t safe after all. I produce a blowtorch from my backpack, normally used for starting fires during rainy weather when it’s too difficult to do so with lesser equipment. I aim the head of the torch at the exposed mangled back of the fluffy, and shoot.
“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGEGAGGGEEEEAAAAAAAGAHRB”
Oh my god. The fluffy didn’t “Scree” or “Ree” in response to pain stimuli, it “RAA’d”. That scream is extremely rare. Skinned alive fluffies rolled in salt and lemon juice don’t “RAA”. I wonder what the hell I just did to make it feel that much pain at once.
“WAN DIE!!! WAN DIEEEEE!!! AAAAAAAA NUUUUUUU!!! WAN DIEEEEEEEE! WADIEWADIEWIADIEWADIEWADIEWADIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!”
“JESUS CHRIST, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
I flip the fluffy around and press its face directly into the burning nozzle of the torch.
“REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGDGDHGgshsbdbbhugurgle”
I watch carefully as it’s face melts off. The contrast between the gorgeous mountain scenery and the brutality of the fluffies eyeballs melting out of their sockets from the heat intensifies both. The fluffy starts with a “REE” and ends with a gurgle due to his tongue and lips melting out. I end when the fluffy stops screaming. It is not dead - I can still feel his heart beating in my fist, I just burned out all of its vocal cords and mouth parts. Now I can feast in peace.
I continue working my teeth into the now cooked back meat of the biotoy. It really does taste like sweetened pork just like people say - criminally good. After 5 minutes I have eaten all of the meat on the back of the animal, but I am not full yet. I can still eat a little more.
I carefully shave the legs and stomach of the creature using the same method as I did to shave the back, though more carefully as the geometry of the legs and stomach are slightly more complex. As soon as the job is done I twist the legs off, slowly, one by one, making sure to eat all of the meat off of the leg before I move on to ripping the next leg off. Once the fluffy has been pillowed I move on to the stomach meat, which is said to be the sweetest part of the creature. I only know the fluffy is still alive by this point due to it breathing in and out occasionally. I am baffled that it hasn’t died by this point. I fillet the skin off of the stomach as I did with the back skin, but it yields no response from the fluffy. Either it is gone from shock or it is completely broken. I then carefully shave the meat off the apparently still alive fluffies stomach as I did with the skin as to not puncture any organs and cause fluffy shit to go leaking everywhere, although that doesn’t seem to be a concern as the fluffy should’ve evacuated it’s bowels the moment I started flaying the skin off its back if it had any crap in it. I eat the stomach meat off of the fluffy until I reach the organs. I dig into the fluffies chest cavity to see if its heart is beating. It’s stone cold. Deciding that I am full and ready to get a move on, I chuck the mangled fluffy corpse thousands of feet down into the valley below, where it will be feasted upon by insects and mold.
Hours later, just before sunset, I make it back to my vehicle safely and drive home. I couldn’t have done it without the energy that fluffies body gave me. Such is the circle of life. I make a mental note that the next time I find a fluffy fuck in the forest I will be sure to dispatch of it immediately.
