with your child on your back you and your compatriots have set off on a quest for the golden wingie friend
a butterfly which was at the fluffy and small dog park
the others fell behind but you shall take it
you chase it through various bits of underbrush
the glory shall be yours!
.>you shall take it within your mouth alive!
and return with spoil for your humans!
they shall sing songs of your quest and triumph
you catch the insect in your mouth displaying a surprising amount of agility for a fluffy
yet as you bask in glory with Marmalade upon your back you realize you are lost
you are no longer in the verdant green of the park but in a dirty alley
”Nu smeww pwetty.”
you mutter to yourself approximating the closest a fluffy can muster to a scowl
this place is foul
yet mixed with the cigarette buts, and rotting food you smell fluffy
and it’s fresh
ferals
savages
who do not revere the humans and do not eat cooked skettis
though they are not innately hostile you understand how quick they can turn violent against a product of the civilized world such as yourself
you hide behind a refrigerator box as you hear chanting
”Baaw! Baaw! Baaw!”
should you run?
a voice in your head tells you to make friends with them
but you silence this
this same voice also tells you to make poopies when you shouldn’t but really have to go
still you suppose it couldn’t hurt
you tuck away the peeping marmalade inside the box
you do not know how these savages would react to one with her deformity
you creep up and look towards a large congregation of fluffies led by a Unicorn
the unicorn is wearing a dishrag, and a burger king party hat.
a tv remote held in his hand
do these beasts not know that without the teebee such a tool is useless?
yet stranger still is their chant
an ominous dirge of “baaw!”
with a few skrees and huus thrown in for measure
you sneak up nudging a Pegasus with green stripes
he’s smaller and fatter than you
less of a threat than an earthie or unicorn
”Hewwo! Am Eviwa”
you say gormlessly but quieter than the average fluffy
”Hewwo am stwipe!”
you turn to stripe after realizing that on the altar
there were three chirping foals…
they were too old to have just been born
but they still couldn’t talk
in the center was a tennis ball
”what ou doin wif babbehs?”
stripe laughs happily
”we gib babbehs to baaw!”
”baww not want babbehs, baww is toysies.”
stripes looks at you like you have a serious case of dummeh
”Baaw no am toysies, baaw is nice munstah!”
munstah?
”why gib babbehs to munstah.”
this is getting more concerning
stripe smiles
”evewy 3 and 3 an 1 fowevews, Baaw come and gib nummehs fo babbehs.”
you pause
those better be some damn good nummies
”wat kind nummies?”
”Skettis!”
the entire crowd of fluffies is now chanting “Skettis”
skettis did sound
but babbehs were more important
you watch as the unicorn babbles and shakes his remote
”he siwwy.”
stripe gives you a sowwy hoofsie
”Nu am siwwy he talkie fo baaw!”
no
talkie things are eatie things
this unicorn isn’t the talkie place of a munstah
it’s a unicorn
they’re stupider than you thought
you turn around to leave
these fluffies are dummehs
then you hear something
”Fwuffy am find munstah babbeh in boks!”
that wasn’t your problem
you’d just get marmalade and leave
wait…
you left marmalade in a box
and marmalade was a munstah babbeh.
what are the odds there was another
you didn’t see many munstah babbeh ferals
oh no
the blue earthie is already rushing over with a peeping marmalade in it’s mouth
”Mo babbehs! Mo nummies”
cries the rest of the herd
clearly excited that they had more to offer their Baal
oh fluff
the unicorn in the hat is now waving the remote at marmalade
babbling
who is clearly confused
you are too
thinking fast you grab a spatula in your mouth and run through the crowd
shoving and scraping all in your way as the chants turn to panicked shouts
the unicorn is in the middle of the rite and still doesn’t seem to notice you
you collide spatula first sending him flying off the box pile
he is now bleeding and crying as half the herd rush to give him huggies
still too shocked that someone would do this to their high priest
you drop your spatula for a second to pick up marmalade
”babbeh hold on, otay?”
you grunt through gritted teeth
another babbeh grips your leg peeping.
screw it.
you take it
”babbeh bettah not make eviwa swow.”
you huff before grabbing your spatula
”Dummeh wingie gib pwiest fowevah sweepies!”
they are all screaming for your death
”Gib fowevah sweepies.”
you are soon engulfed in a hostile fluffpile as hundreds of soft paws latch onto you trying to give you forever sleepies
you slash them with your mighty spatula’s corners
kicking the few on your back as you desperately try to escape while still making sure the babbehs are on your back
you still hear some of the foals peeping but you can’t take them
if you tried you and the babbehs would get forever sleepies
can’t risk that
even if it gave you heart hurties
you leap over a earthie, probably a tuffie and skid a bit on the pavement before running back into the underbrush
you hear the sound of a metal munstah coming as you leave
and something stepping out
Baal….
do you dare to look?
no
it must be too horrible to imagine
truly it is better to be ignorant of such things
all that matters is you and marmalade survived
and the other babbeh
you return to the park gasping and panting
you approach your parents
”Eviwa find babbeh!”
Be Robert.
you sort of came to an arrangement with the local fluffy herd
you actually found them playing with one of your tennis balls once
at first you were a little pissed but you realized you had some use for them
fluffy foals were pretty fucking tasty
and due to their high reproduction rate
they were in no short supply
you figured you would just get rid of their excess foals and give em your fresher food waste
after all you might as well put those pizza crush to some use
you get out of your car, you meet them every Friday
it’s sort of amazing they can keep that time
also a reason you don’t like eating the ones that can talk
it just sort of feels weird to eat something that talks
like killing it maybe
but eating just sort of seems messed up
you return stopping your suv as you walk into the alley
box of spaghetti, leftover salad and pizza crust in hand
”Hey priest, I brought foo… oh my god.”
the place is a mess
The unicorn you named priest is either dead or pretty damn close to it
you aren’t sure if blunt force trauma or suffocation via huggies killed him
the little altar they made is also totally trashed
what the fuck happened.
maybe like a dog or something
but that can’t be right
there’d be a lot more dead and a lot more bite marks.
what did this?
a drunk hobo maybe
you look to see two chirpies crushed under boxes and hooves
well fuck.