Thanks @LaPonkisuwu for the lovely art.
104 Shit Rats (85 Adults / 19 Foals)
96 Good Fluffies (28 Adults / 56 Foals / 12 Entepott Helpers)
Records maintained by Emilia Sage.
Day one: I broke the news to all of them. Announced my plan to close Entepott Fluffy shelter down. They weren’t happy about it. Didn’t say anything, but I could see the disdain in their eyes. I don’t blame them. My old self would probably be disgusted with me as well, but no one stepped up to take control of the shelter, so I remained shelter owner and used my authority to report closure of Entepott to the government. I got approval the same day.
We had one month to get rid of all the Fluffies. A couple of the volunteers wanted to end all the Shit Rats immediately, but I refused. I needed the routine, so we kept the Shit Rats alive and stuck to their usual feeding plan. I’ve tried to torture the Shit Rats the same way Ze does during prep time, but it didn’t make me feel any better. Only slightly.
Good Fluffies Left: 96
(28 Adults / 56 Foals / 12 Entepott Helpers)
104 Shit Rats
103 - 20 fed
102 - 40 fed
101 - 60 fed
100 - 80 fed
99 - 100 fed, 1 excess
Day two: I cried a bit while cleaning up Ella’s office. Seeing all the paperwork all neatly stacked. The books lined up on the shelves. The worst was seeing the list that Ella made, of things to do the next day. I felt like such a goddamn failure, but I really didn’t have the will to keep her dream alive. Karen also had a talk with me. She practically begged me to keep running Entepott, but after I told her the real reason I couldn’t do it, she stopped. She hugged me and apologized, then she said she would work something out for the Good Fluffies. I’m grateful. I think I would have broken down if we had a long winded debate.
Also, two people came over to adopt some of our Good Fluffies. One adopted a mare and one foal. The second adopted three foals.
Good Fluffies left: 91
(27 Adults / 52 Foals / 12 Entepott Helpers)
99 Shit Rats
98 - 21 fed
97 - 41 fed
96 - 61 fed
95 - 81 fed
94 - 101 fed, 7 excess
Day three: One of the volunteers finally did it, came up to me and called me a selfish hypocrite. Karen and a couple of the other volunteers got mad on my behalf, but to be honest it actually made me feel quite glad, it’s refreshing to hear people hating me as much as they should. The volunteer adopted two foals and said he was never coming back. I understand why. Old me would have probably done the same.
Good Fluffies left: 89
(27 Adults / 50 Foals / 12 Entepott Helpers)
94 Shit Rats
93 - 27 fed
92 - 47 fed
91 - 67 fed
90 - 87 fed
89 - 107 fed, 18 excess
Day four: Morale is still understandably low, a couple of volunteers have asked me about the possibility of shelter closure reversal. Seems they’re still holding onto the hope that I’ll change my mind and keep Entepott running. I set things straight and told them that it wasn’t going to happen, but if they would like to take over they’re more than free to do so. This seemed to annoy two of them. They called me a bitch and said they weren’t coming back. Understandable honestly.
Some good news. Hip Hop and Sunflower, were adopted by an interesting individual who said that he sensed their potential for dance and planned to have them be part of his dance studio. I’m pretty sure he was on something, but he seemed like a nice person. I think Hip Hop and Sunflower are going to do just fine with him. A family also came in to adopt two foals.
Good Fluffies left: 85
(27 Adults / 48 Foals / 10 Entepott Helpers)
89 Shit Rats
88 - 38 fed
87 - 58 fed
86 - 78 fed
85 - 98 fed, 13 excess
Day five: No one really spoke to me the whole morning, but one of the volunteers had some rather harsh words to say to me in the afternoon. She said that I was basically abandoning all the Good Fluffies of Entepott and I was destroying Ariella’s dream. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what to say, she was right after all. After that I stayed in the office, so that I wouldn’t be such an eyesore. I understand why she said that, but her words still hurt. I almost called Ze just to talk to someone, but I didn’t want to bother her. I just ignored the feeling of loneliness.
During closing time, the volunteer took three adults and six foals. She said she was going to bring them to someone who “actually cared about Fluffies unlike you”. That’s good. At least she found them a good home. I wish she took more.
Good Fluffies left: 76
(24 Adults / 42 Foals / 10 Entepott Helpers)
85 Shit Rats
84 - 33 fed
83 - 53 fed
82 - 73 fed
81 - 93 fed, 12 excess
Day six: None of the volunteers came in today. A few called in sick. Most just didn’t say anything. I think they’re just tired of bad things happening to good Fluffies. It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t open the shelter today, just focused on tasks. Fortunately the Good Fluffies and Entepott Helpers were able to help and I managed to finish most of the work by 10 pm, but I still see it sometimes, the similarities between the Good Fluffies and the Shit Rats, and sometimes when I see the Good Fluffies laughing, I feel disgusted as it was the same laugh as the Shit Rats who mocked Ella’s death. I felt just as sick when I heard Oakley ask about Ella. I really didn’t want to hear her name coming out of his mouth or any other Fluffy’s mouth. I really can’t keep running Entepott.
No adoptions today.
Good Fluffies left: 76
(24 Adults / 42 Foals / 10 Entepott Helpers)
81 Shit Rats
80 - 32 fed
79 - 52 fed
78 - 72 fed
77 - 92 fed, 15 excess
Day seven: Carrie and a couple of her friends came over to visit. They were certainly shocked when I told them that none of the volunteers today as well. Fortunately, they were willing to spend some time helping around. Just a few hours was more than enough and good timing too. A familiar customer came by. The man who had been constantly adopting our Shit Rats. I told him that he could only take our Good Fluffies now, fortunately he was more than agreeable. He adopted seven adults, ten foals and would also specifically ask for Petal. Interesting note. Petal said that the man smelt like the “nice mistah dat teww Petaw tu sa fuck”. So that solved that mystery at least, and at least I didn’t feel so lonely today.
Good Fluffies left: 60
(19 Adults / 32 Foals / 9 Entepott Helpers)
77 Shit Rats
76 - 35 fed
75 - 55 fed
74 - 75 fed, 1 excess
Day eight: Some of the volunteers came back for the Good Fluffies. They still didn’t agree with my decision to shut down Entepott, but they still wanted to find the Good Fluffies good homes. They all refused to help with anything Shit Rat related. I don’t blame them, and besides, not only were they willing to continue helping the Good Fluffies, but also went out to advertise to people about finding Entepott’s good Fluffies. It seemed to work, as a couple of people came in, and two even adopted. A family adopted one adult, and a man adopted two foals.
Good Fluffies left: 57
(18 Adults / 30 Foals / 9 Entepott Helpers)
74 Shit Rats
73 - 21 fed
72 - 41 fed
71 - 61 fed
70 - 81 fed, 11 excess
Day nine: Quiet day today. Frankie came up to check on me. We had a pleasant chat and I asked him if he thought I was wrong for giving up on Ariella’s dream. Surprisingly he said no. “If you don’t want to run Entepott, then I’m sure as shit that Els wouldn’t want you forcing yourself to run Entepott. You know this. I know this.” I agreed and for a moment I did consider running Entepott again, but then I remembered the Shit Rats laughing at Ella’s death. That made me feel sick. I really can’t keep Entepott running. A couple of people came in today, but no adoptions.
Good Fluffies left: 57
(18 Adults / 30 Foals / 9 Entepott Helpers)
70 Shit Rats
69 - 31 fed
68 - 51 fed
67 - 71 fed, 4 excess
Day ten: The Good Fluffies were miserable today, apparently one of the volunteers slipped up and told them what was going on. Lot of crying Fluffies today and laughing Shit Rats. They really do know how to be spiteful don’t they. One of the Shit Rats really stood out. “Hehe dummeh Fwuffy hab nu mowe nice shetew nu mowe, am wike Smawty nao! Dummeh Fwuffies am Shitwat nao!” I scared a lot of the volunteers and the Good Fluffies when I bashed that Shit Rats skull in then and there. Still kept the meat good.
One good news, Reeses found a good home. Some nice lady who ran a rehabilitation center for Fluffies, told me that she loved helping downers find happiness again. That was nice. I wish she could help me find my spark of joy again. Ah well.
Good Fluffies left: 56
(18 Adults / 30 Foals / 8 Entepott Helpers)
67 Shit Rats
66 - 24 fed
65 - 44 fed
64 - 64 fed, 0 excess
Day eleven: Another quiet day. I overheard a couple of the volunteers talking in the alleyway. Stuff about how they felt betrayed and that I was really being selfish. A part of me wanted to defend myself, but a part of me knew that I deserved this. I was the one who ruined Ella’s dream after all, so let them hate me all they want, at least they’re still helping the Good Fluffies. I kept to the kitchen and Ella’s office, so I wouldn’t offend them much.
More people came in today, and three separate people adopted one foal each.
Good Fluffies left: 53
(18 Adults / 27 Foals / 8 Entepott Helpers)
64 Shit Rats
63 - 20 fed
62 - 40 fed
61 - 60 fed
60 - 80 fed, 20 excess
Day twelve: Felt quite pissed today. I received an email from the Happy Fluffy Hugbox Shelter fund. They were “disappointed with my decision to shut down Entepott Fluffy Shelter and hoped that I would reconsider, as they had gone out of their way to reinstate Entepott’s Hugbox status”. I was okay with the volunteers shitting on me, but not them, they weren’t allowed. Those fuckers abandoned us because ONE man said we were abuse. No chance to even plead our case, and now they have the fucking gall to say they were disappointed. God that angered me. I wrote a three paragraph response about how they screwed us over and that we were only able to keep the shelter running because the three of us sacrificed a part of ourselves to keep Entepott alive and how Ella sacrificed everything for the Fluffies. They do not get to be disappointed with us, and I made sure to highlight that they should thank Mayer for this disappointment. He makes a false accusation and practically destroys our main lifeline, and if they really wanted Entepott to keep running, they could come here and help the Fluffies themselves. Fuck them. Seriously. Also I must have been really angry, because none of the volunteers dared to say anything to my face today.
However, the day did turn out significantly better in the afternoon. An interesting lady came by. Tall and gangly. Pale skin, dark brown hair, and piercing golden eyes, she was wearing all leather. Kinda reminded me of when I first met Ze, though a lot more intimidating, but unlike Ze, she liked the Good Fluffies and had come here to adopt any that needed help. Wimpy caught her eye and once she heard his story about why he doesn’t like to be brave, she adopted him then and there. She also adopted Tanner, because she said the two looked close. So that was a nice way to close out the day.
Good Fluffies left: 51
(18 Adults / 27 Foals / 6 Entepott Helpers)
60 Shit Rats
59 - 40 fed
58 - 60 fed, 2 excess
Day thirteen: Nothing really noticeable happened today. Business as usual and a couple of people came in to take a look at the Good Fluffies, but no adoptions
Good Fluffies left: 51
(18 Adults / 27 Foals / 6 Entepott Helpers)
58 Shit Rats
57 - 22 fed
56 - 42 fed
55 - 62 fed, 7 excess
Day fourteen: I overheard a conversation between two of the volunteers. They secretly wished that it was Ella alive and well so that at least Entepott could keep on going. I get that they love Fluffies, but it does hurt that they wished me dead instead of Ella. In the afternoon, one of the other volunteers got into a fight with those two, something about how they should be ashamed of wishing other’s dead. I’d like to think that he was arguing for my sake, but I get the feeling that I’m the most hated person in the shelter right now. I don’t know if all the animosity scared off potential visitors, but still no adoptions today.
Good Fluffies left: 51
(18 Adults / 27 Foals / 6 Entepott Helpers)
55 Shit Rats
54 - 27 fed
53 - 47 fed
52 - 67 fed, 15 excess
Day fifteen: Nothing notable happened with the volunteers today, but Harrison brought over a friend. A fellow farmer, who owned a cannibal Fluffy. I was a little worried at first, but when she saw Noodle, she started talking about how her craft senses were tingling and how she could fix his horn with a mould, cast replica and some prosthetic piece of clay or something. I didn’t understand, but she seemed to really like Noodle and Noodle seemed to really like her, so I can only hope things go well. I really hope her cannibal Fluffy doesn’t think Noodles is noodles, but Harrison said he would keep an eye on things. Also Harrison asked if I was okay, he said he didn’t like the looks that some of thr volunteers were giving me.
Also one more person came over and adopted two foals.
Good Fluffies left: 48
(18 Adults / 25 Foals / 5 Entepott Helpers)
52 Shit Rats
51 - 35 fed
50 - 55 fed, 5 excess
Day sixteen: One of the volunteers broke down in front of me today. We have a one-on-one chat in the office. She told me how it seemed that Fluffies were being hurt everywhere she turned and that Entepott felt like the one place that truly cared for Fluffies. She begged me to keep Entepott running because there were fewer and fewer good places for Fluffies. I asked if she was willing to running Entepott instead, but she said she couldn’t give up her current job, because she needs to support her parents. I don’t know how to interpret that, but I decided to tell her the truth about the Shit Rats laughing at Ariella’s death. Unfortunately she didn’t believe me.
“Shit Rats can be mean, but they aren’t pure evil! You can’t seriously expect me to believe that. You’re just making excuses because you don’t want to take responsibility over Entepott!”
She left after our conversation and never came back. A couple of people also came over today. One adopted an adult and a foal, whilst two more people adopted a foal each.
Good Fluffies left: 44
(17 Adults / 22 Foals / 5 Entepott Helpers)
50 Shit Rats
49 - 25 fed
48 - 45 fed
47 - 65 fed, 18 excess
Day seventeen: Karen and Shelter Mindset came over in the morning, both of them were livid. Not at me, surprisingly, but at the volunteers. Apparently one of the ex-volunteers had turned to Shelter Mindset to talk to Karen to try and convince me to keep Entepott running. Shelter Mindset and Karen came over to see if many of the volunteers thought the same. Many of them did and Shelter Mindset raised up a point that I had been thinking about as well. A lot of the volunteers wanted me to continue running Entepott, but why did none of them step up to take control of the shelter.
A couple of them raised fair points about how it was unrealistic for a volunteer just to suddenly run a shelter and how it would take too long to learn within the expected time frame. I understood those reasons, but the one I didn’t get was when one of them said that she already had a life and that it was unfair for her to give up her steady life for the shelter, meanwhile my life was already all about Entepott, so it was okay to convince me to stay. I had to admit, hearing that hurt. It made me feel like I wasn’t a person, just a thing, and it made me happy when Karen got angry on my behalf. She went berserk and screamed so much at the volunteer that the volunteer broke down into tears and ran away. After that, a couple of the volunteers apologized. It felt weird. On one hand it made me happy, but on the other hand, it felt like I didn’t deserve such kindness.
Also a lot of people came over in the afternoon to meet Shelter Mindset in person. It was interesting and we had quite a lot of adoptions. One adult and five foals, adopted by four separate groups of people. Two separate individuals, a couple and one family.
Good Fluffies left: 38
(16 Adults / 17 Foals / 5 Entepott Helpers)
47 Shit Rats
46 - 38 fed
45 - 58 fed, 13 excess
Day eighteen: A quiet day today. The volunteers didn’t really talk to me. Understandable. I just told them what to do and they followed, but they kept giving me weird looks or was it looks of disgust? I can’t tell anymore. I think they’re scared to say anything anymore because of Karen, but it is weird that they keep coming back. I kinda thought that I would be running the shelter on my own at this point, but I guess that’s how much they love the Good Fluffies.
Unfortunately no adoptions today. A couple of people came, but no one adopted.
Good Fluffies left: 38
(16 Adults / 17 Foals / 5 Entepott Helpers)
45 Shit Rats
44 - 33 fed
43 - 53 fed, 10 excess
Day nineteen: Another quiet day again. A couple of visitors, but no adoption. However, a really weird man came over in the afternoon, called himself the King of Condiments and said he came over from the East Side to find “The One”. Walked up to Mustard and deemed him perfect for his restaurant. I kinda got worried. Wasn’t sure if this was one of those pranks or some weirdo.
Turns out he was a weirdo but a wholesome one. He showed me photos of his two other Fluffies. A pure red one called Ketchup and a pure white one called Mayo. He would explain to me that he owns a burger joint that catered to Fluffies and that Ketchup and Mayo were the mascots. When he saw Mustard on one of our Entepott live streams he went across the country just to get Mustard. His dedication was admirable, so I told him about Mustard and his trauma, turns out Ketchup was the same and he was sure he could help Mustard. So I saw no reason to deny him. I hope things work out well for Mustard.
Good Fluffies left: 37
(16 Adults / 17 Foals / 4 Entepott Helpers)
43 Shit Rats
42 - 30 fed
41 - 50 fed, 9 excess
Day twenty: Karen came over again to check on me. The other volunteers haven’t really said anything to me, but they still keep giving me weird looks. It doesn’t really matter. I know how they really feel. I’m a piece of shit who abandoned Ariella’s dream. They all know it. They’re probably just too scared to say anything because of Karen. Mark also came over, which was nice. I saw him at Ella’s funeral, but we never really got to talk. Turns out he was teaching at some community college, and heard what was going on with Entepott. He got some of his students to come with him Entepott and we managed to get three Good Fluffies adopted. One adult and two foals. Three individuals.
Good Fluffies left: 34
(15 Adults / 15 Foals / 4 Entepott Helpers)
41 Shit Rats
40 - 29 fed
39 - 49 fed, 10 excess
Day twenty one: I made a controversial decision today. Of the remaining 39 Shit Rats, 20 were adults and 19 were foals. I didn’t want the 20 adults being turned into Shit Rat feed. That was too merciful, especially for those 20, so I decided to use the foals for Shit Rat feed. Less meat produced so I had to kill more Shit Rat foals. That didn’t sit right with one of the volunteers. He could tolerate the adults but not the foals, and he took the five I was going to process as meat.
He gave the age-old excuse for their behavior. The foals were just babies and they didn’t know any better. It reminded me of how I used to be back when it was just the three of us. This feeling of stupidity. I wonder if this was how Ze felt when I used to defend the Fluffies. I ended up arguing like Ze and told him that he could adopt those five Shit Rats, but then he should adopt the other fourteen, because it was unfair that he was just going to save five but not all the other foals, then if he was going to do that, then he should go adopt every foal from every abuse and neutral shelter. I clearly pushed him too far, and he called me a “cold-hearted bitch” before leaving. A couple of the other volunteers left as well. I dunno. I should be amicable, but I just don’t care anymore.
On other news, there were a lot of adoptions today. Nanna was adopted by what I feel was a stoner looking for a chill Fluffy. Meanwhile, twoo adults and five foals were also adopted by six separate groups. Three families, one couple and two separate individuals.
Good Fluffies left: 26
(13 Adults / 10 Foals / 3 Entepott Helpers)
39 Shit Rats (20 Adults / 19 foals)
34 (5 Foals) - 35 fed, 1 excess
Day twenty two: I got attacked last night. Happened just after I left the shelter. I was the last one out as I had to close up and two people with balaclavas jumped me just as I walked down the stairs. One hit me in the face and the other kicked me in the chest when I was down, but I got lucky. A police car was in the area and caught the two in the act. I was sent to hospital and took a statement, whilst the two went to the station. Turns out it was the volunteer I pushed too far and his friend. Apparently, both had ties to F3. So hurting people for Fluffies was natural to them. It’s scary how easily people use Fluffies to justify their hate against other people nowadays, but I guess I can’t criticize, I hate Mayer and the Happy Fluffy Fund pricks because of Fluffy related matters.
Thinking about it, I kinda realized how it must have looked from his perspective. In his eyes those foals were probably how I used to see them. Akin to babies or kittens or puppies. From his perspective, I was slaughtering such young creatures for meat and forced him into a standstill with all my talk of adopting all Shit Rat foals. So I guess I really did deserve this.
Anyways, the injuries were not too bad, so I went back to the shelter today, but a couple of the volunteers got scared and left early. Understandable. I dunno why I’m so unbothered. It was scary at the time, but all I could think about today was finding Good Fluffies good home and keeping those twenty eight Shit Rats alive until the end. However, I need to hurry up with my plan. Another of their friends might come over to Entepott and ruin everything.
In other news, four adoptions today, two adults and two foals. Taken in by a family of four. One Fluffy per family member. Cute.
Good Fluffies left: 22
(11 Adults / 8 Foals / 3 Entepott Helpers)
34 Shit Rats (20 Adults / 14 foals)
28 (6 Foals) - 30 fed, 2 excess
Day twenty three: Almost ready to start. I stopped the foal thing because there were only 8 left and those 8 were in the same camp as the 20 adults. I told the volunteers I was switching to kibble feed. They were definitely suspicious, but none would question it. After all, it meant they no longer had to endure the screams of Shit Rats foals being taken away. Frankie also came over and gave me some good advice.
More importantly, Karen came by with a very interesting proposal. She wanted to make her own version of the Entepott Helpers with a couple of her friends. Called them Teacher Fluffs and have them go to various Hugbox shelters to teach other Good Fluffies on how to be good. She adopted all the remaining Good Fluffies in Entepott: Eleven adults, eight foals and Buggie.
She was planning to also take in Oakley and Coco, but I said no. I plan to adopt those two and bring them back to my home. Want to keep at least one good thing from Entepott or two.
Good Fluffies left: 0
(0 Adults / 0 Foals / 0 Entepott Helpers)
28 Shit Rats (20 Adults / 8 foals)
Switch to kibble feed.
Day twenty four: I told everyone not to come today. I’m going to kill those Shit Rats. I hope this helps avenge Ella even in some small way.
Good Fluffies left: 0
(0 Adults / 0 Foals / 0 Entepott Helpers)
28 Shit Rats left (20 adults / 8 foals)
Emilia was sat on the steps leading to Entepott’s back door. In that alleyway behind Entepott. The one she would always go out for breaks with Ella and Ze. She got out a cigarette packet from her pocket and looked inside the carton. There were two cigarettes.
She took a cigarette and lit it up, before putting it to her lips and taking a smoke. It was getting easier to take in the smoke. They didn’t clog up her lungs as painfully anymore. It still felt unnatural, but at least it was doing its job now. Offering her a brief respite from the numbing coldness that she had been feeling these past three weeks. A short moment of peace.
She looked around. Just taking in her surroundings. She hadn’t been here in a while. The aged vending machine with it’s off color sides. The wall of the building opposite with its dull grey, misaligned bricks. The alleyway floor, filthy with an assortment of stains. Puddles of unknown liquids. Trash. Smears. Grime.
She took another smoke and stared at the sky. A lovely blue day. White clouds. Warm sun. A lovely day, yet it just made her feel all the more miserable. Like life had went on, when she herself was stuck in this rut. It really felt like everyone had moved on with their lives, so why couldn’t she.
She stood up and walked to the vending machine. Taking another smoke, she blew the fumes at the vending machine. Then she looked at her choices. Standard stuff. Water bottles. Sodas. Coffees. She got a can of coffee and walked back to the steps. Cracking the can open, she gulped down the entire can in one go, before taking another smoke of the cigarette.
She flicked the cigarette onto the floor and extinguished it with her shoe, then looked at the cigarette carton. Only one cigarette left. The last of Ella’s stash.
She didn’t plan to buy anymore. The cigarettes weren’t… Well they weren’t for her. She just didn’t want to waste them. Much like she wasted all of Ella’s hard wo-
“Shut up.” She muttered softly.
There was no one there. Just her, herself, and that persistently exasperating little voice, which had nestled itself at the back of her head. More annoying than the Shit Rats who plagued this entire nation. On par with the ones that resided in Entepott Fluffy Shelter.
28 Shit Rats left (20 adults / 8 foals)
The Shit Rats of Cages 01, 02, 03, 04, 26, 27, 28, 29, 51, 52, 53, 54, 76, 77, 78 and 79
Specifically the sixteen cages on the left most side of Entepott Fluffy Shelter.
The area where Ella had passed away.
Six cages with 1 Stallion each
Four cages with 2 Stallions each
Six cages with 1 Mare and 1 Foal each
14 Hell gremlin stallions, 6 Bitch mares and 6 Bestest babbehs, who all saw Ella collapse. All saw the blood. All thought she had forever sleepies. AND ALL OF THEM LAUGHED. They were the ones she would never forget. The ones who celebrated and cheered.
A small part of her tried to think of it from their perspective. In the eyes of these Shit Rats, Ella was probably a tyrant. One of those humans, who wouldn’t let them out of their cages. Forces them to eat the flesh of their own kind and stale food. Creating a segregation system where they suffered whilst others got to roam about and play. In their eyes, Ella’s death was akin to the death of a monster, so naturally they would cheer and celebrate. It was… understandable. Nothing to truly hold a grudge over, right?
Emilia threw the coffee can at the wall, causing it to make a resounding CLANG!.
If that was the case, then why could she feel nothing but a cold rage every time she saw them? The disgust she felt as she remembered them cheering. Their cute faces, their adorable tubby bodies, their soft squishy hooves, and their innocent laughs. All as a woman laid dead on the floor. A part of her imagined Ella writhing about on the floor in agony. Her face, laid atop a puddle of her blood. Meanwhile, those putrid pig ponies watched with big smiles, cheering as though in the midst of a party. The wholehearted delight they must have felt at her death. The way they acted like nothing had changed these past three weeks.
Disgusting. Wretched vile little things.
A small part of her told her that this was what those poor Fluffies felt at the hand of abusers. A loud part of her told her TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Just shut the fuck up and…
MAKE. THEM. SUFFER.
She stood up and straightened herself. She thought about what Frankie said. Do it in the playroom. Easier to clean. Near impossible for them to escape. Lower risk of their screams escaping the shelter walls and terrifying a poor passerby. She thought about Karen and the volunteers. Those Hugboxers with their sympathies for these forsaken fecal factories. She was right to tell them not to come.
The continued existence of the Good Fluffies and Entepott Helpers had been verified and their futures secured.
No self respecting Hugboxers would like what comes next. It was best if they left at this point.
Only gratuitous violence and senseless gore awaited.
Bestest babbeh stared out the glass cage.
He barely remembered his life outside this shelter. He remembered the sky. The blue sky under the big buildings. All this free space to roam. The feeling of superiority over his siblings. A time where he was a prince in a palace of squalor.
Then the hoomans came in. Dragged him and his family out of their home. Brought him here. To this horrible place. A place where he was trapped behind this box with an invisible wall. Food consisting of other Fluffies and stale kibbles. Never anything good. Never sketti. No space to properly roam. No toys to play with. Here with his mummah, he could only watch as all those dummeh Fluffies got to roam around.
He never understood why the hoomans of this place were nice to them. They were all dummehs with such ugly colors. He figured that the hoomans were nice to them, because the hoomans were dummehs too. Dummehs and meanie munstahs. He hated them. He wished that he could give them worstest hurties and foebah sweepies. For both him and his mummah.
He turned to look at mummah. His beloved mummah. His source of milkies, huggies and wuv. The one who protected him. His bestest mummah with her pretty colors. He loved his mummah, but sometimes he had to wonder if she was a dummeh.
Mummah was bigger and stronger than him, so why didn’t she get then out of this sorry box? Why didn’t all the other big Fluffies in the other sorry box? If he was big and strong he would break this sorry box with the worstest of sorry hoofies.
Maybe it was because he was bestest? Maybe only he could do these things? He certainly wasn’t gonna do dummeh things like mummah, who only pleaded and said meanie wordies to the meanie munstah hoomans. When he became a big Fluffy, he was gonna escape. He was gonna give the dummeh hoomans the worstest of hurties, he was gonna make them give him a nice housie, nice toysies and ske-
His thoughts were interrupted, as the other Fluffies were making noises.
Dummeh wady! Wet Fwuffy gu wite nao!
Pwease hooman! Wet Fwuffy gu am pwomise nu mo bad poopies ib gib sketties!
Wan outside nao! NAO!
Bestest babbeh knew what that meant. One of the dummeh munstahs hoomans was walking by. He was right. One came by, standing right in front of his cage. A meanie munstah lady. She stared at him with a meanie look and Bestest babbeh felt his anger build.
“Wet out sowwi boxies!” Mummah suddenly screamed “Am Bestest Mummah wit Bestest Babbeh! Gib sketti n toysies n nice housie n gud daddeh wite… NAO!!!”
Bestest babbeh found himself momentarily stunned. Mummah had never shouted this loud before. It was scary, but at the same time, Bestest babbeh felt a surge of pride. The dummeh meanie lady must be feeling very scared now.
Bestest babbeh bravely stepped in front of mummah. He puffed his cheeks and glared at the dummeh meanie lady angrily.
“Dummeh meanie wady wisten to Bestest mummah o Bestest babbeh gib worstest sowwi hoofies n bad poopies!” Bestest babbeh screamed, stomping his hooves to emphasize his point.
“Gud Bestest babbeh!” He heard mummah shout gleefully.
Bestest babbeh felt a rush of endorphins at being praised, but he began to feel a hint of nervousness, when he noticed that the dummeh meanie lady did not look scared. In fact she looked angry.
“Are… how do you plan to give me sorry hoofies and bad poopies?” The dummeh meanie lady asked.
Bestest babbeh looked at her with confusion. He didn’t understand the question. So he just reaffirmed his point.
“Bestest babbeh gib worstest sowwi hoofies n bad poopies!” He screamed with all his heart.
“Dat wite!” He heard mummah scream.
Bestest babbeh raised his head up high. He was feeling rather powerful now. Powerful and confident, but the hint of nervousness came back, as he noticed that the dummeh meanie lady was not looking scared.
“Do it.” She said calmly.
Bestest babbeh looked at her in confusion. Do what? He didn’t understand and it seemed the dummeh meanie lady knew that.
“Go on.” She said “Give me your worst sorry hooves and bad poopies.”
Bestest babbeh looked at her incredulously. She wanted him to give her the worstest sorry hoofies and bad poopies?!? Why?!?
He couldn’t understand, but he didn’t care. She asked for it.
“Worstest sorry hoofies!” Bestest babbhe cried out.
He charged right up to the edge of the cage and began pounding on the glass door with his hooves.
Bap bap bap bap bap bap.
He was sure that she was regretting asking for it now, but found himself confused, when he noticed her unimpressed look. Why wasn’t she looking hurt?! He felt a sliver of panic, but quickly knew what to do. He quickly jumped back and turned his rear towards her.
“WORSTEST BAD POOPIES!!” He screamed as he lifted his tail.
He felt his waste expel out of his rear end, and heard a soft plop as it hit its mark. He turned around to face the dummeh meanie lady, expecting to see her covered in his feces, so was much surprised to see her fine, with all his poopies instead staining the glass door.
“Wat!?” Bestest exclaimed in confusion.
He couldn’t understand. Why didn’t his worstest bad poopies work? It always worked? But this time it did not? Why!?
His feces had only stained a third of the glass door, allowing him to still see the dummeh meanie lady. More specifically her look of disdain.
She tapped on the glass door.
“You’re able to understand the concept of death… enough to celebrate Ella’s death… but you cannot comprehend the concept of a glass door?”
Bestest babbeh looked at her with confusion. She had said a lot of words, and he didn’t understand any of it.
“W… wat dummeh meanie wady mak talkies bout?!” He asked, trying his best to maintain his anger.
SMACK
The dummeh meanie wady had smacked the glass cage hard, startling Bestest babbeh, who jumped back slightly with an eep. That was a very loud and scary noise. Fortunately Mummah was here to protect him.
“Nu huwt Bestest babbeh!” Mummah screamed.
Mummah quickly ran in front of him. Shielding him from the meanie munstah wady.
“Nu huwt Bestest babbeh!” Mummah screamed “N wet Mummah and babbeh outsie sowwi cage! Am gud Fwuffies n gib sketties n toysies n housie n nice daddeh!”
Bestest babbeh nodded in agreement, puffing his cheeks to show that Mummah was being serious, but he could see the meanie munstah lady’s face. She did not look scared.
“What if I say no?” Meanie munstah lady asked calmly.
“Den… den mummah gib worstest hurties!”
The meanie munstah lady shrugged.
“Do it then” Meanie munstah lady stated calmly.
Mummah was silent at first, before stomping her hooves, and Bestest babbeh couldn’t help but grin. The meanie munstah lady was in trouble now. Mummah was gonna give her the worst hurties EBAH.
“Worstest sowwi hoofies!” Mummah screamed.
Bestest babbeh watched in awe, as Mummah turned around and hit the glass door with both of her hind legs. Her hooves, making a soft thud against the glass. He was so sure that Mummah had managed to hurt the meanie munstah lady, so he was utterly bewildered, when he saw that the meanie munstah lady was fine.
“I really don’t get it.” The meanie munstah lady said with a sigh.
She tapped on the glass.
“You’re both aware that there is a glass door here, yet somehow always forget about it whenever you make threats. How… Wh… I…”
The meanie munstah lady made another sigh and shook her head, but Mummah wasn’t done. She was still facing away from the meanie munstah lady, and she raised her tail.
“Worstest poopies!!!” Mummah screamed.
Just like Bestest babbeh, she fired off a torrent of excrement towards the meanie munstah lady. And just like Bestest babbeh, the feces only hit the glass door.
SMACK
Meanie munstah lady had hit the glass door again, startingly both Bestest babbeh and Mummah.
“Nu wike!” Mummah cried out.
SMACK
Another loud noise and this time Mummah backed away. She looked scared, which scared Bestest babbeh too.
“Staph woud noises!!” Mummah screamed.
SMACK
“Staph!” Mummah cried out “Nu wike woud noisies!.. Pwease…”
Bestest babbeh could hear the fear in Mummah’s voice and that made him scared too. He began to back away, curling up next to Mummah.
“Nu wike! Nu wike!” He screamed.
“How do neither of you understand?” The lady said calmly. “There’s a glass door. A barrier. A blockage. You’ve both felt it. You know it’s there, so how are you unable to understand the meaningless nature of your threats? Why do you actually think that you can threaten me?”
Bestest babbeh didn’t like this. He didn’t like how the lady spoke softly, yet had such an angry face. Eyes burning with such rage that it felt like she was burning a hole in his heart. Mummah seemed to think the same, because she was looking quite scared as well.
“Pw… pwease nice wady… nu… nu huwties… an Gud mummah n babbeh am bestest babbeh”
Bestest babbeh nodded vigorously. Mummah was right. No hurties, because Fluffies were only for huggies and wuv.
“See that’s what I don’t get. You’re smart enough to know what words to use. How to play the pity card…. Manipulation. You understand death enough that you celebrate Ella’s passing, and yet… somehow… you can’t fathom how meaningless your threats are behind a glass door. A solid. Glass. Door.”
“P… Pwease nice wady… nu… nu huwties.” Mummah whimpered.
The lady had opened the glass door, but Bestest babbeh wasn’t so sure if that was a good thing. She reached in and grabbed Mummah.
“BAD UPSIES! BAD UPSIES!” Mummah screamed as she was lifted up by the mane.
Bestest babbeh realized that he needed to do something.
“Nu huwt Mummah!!” He screamed.
He tried to chase after Mummah, but was stopped when the lady closes the glass door, colliding with the feculent waste still stuck on the glass.
“There’s a glass door.” The lady said calmly.
Bestest babbeh rubbed the waste away from his eyes and watched in horror. Mummah was dangling helplessly in the air, as the lady continued to hold her up by the mane.
“Nu huwties!!!” Mummah cried “Am gud Fwuffy! Gud Mum-”
THUD
The lady had slammed Mummah’s face against the glass door.
“See solid glass door.”
SCREEEEEEEEEEE-
THUD
SCREEEEEEEEEEEE-
THUD
“Solid. No breaking through. See.”
“Nu mo-”
THUD
“Pw-”
“Solid.”
THUD
“Glass.”
THUD
“Door."
THUD
“Solid."
THUD
“Glass."
THUD
“Door."
THUD
Bestest babbeh could only watch in horror. Watch as his Mummah’s face was slowly destroyed with every thud. He watched her snoot, break and flatten. Her jaw dislocate and split. Her face ripped apart, as it was crushed between an unrelenting force and an immovable barrier. The glass door itself would be painted in a crimson red, as more and more of the blood splattered against the surface, and soon Bestest babbeh couldn’t see anything outside.
Only then did Bestest babbeh close his eyes. Close his eyes and hope that if he could not see this terrifying lady, then she couldn’t see him, but he could hear the glass door open and he heard a sigh.
“Nu fin Bestest babbeh!” Bestest babbeh screeched.
He hoped that saying those words would magically make him hidden.
“You’re an idiot.”
A rush of anger. Bestest babbeh knew that word and he didn’t like it. He opened his eyes and glared at the lady.
“Nu am dum-”
He found himself at a loss for words. The lady was holding up some horrible creature. It looked like a Fluffy, but its face was nothing but a mess of leaking red, with two eyes dangling from the sockets, as the lower half of its jaw swung aimlessly from its hinges, attached to a severely crushed snoot.
“Mu… mu… MUNSTAH?!” Bestest babbeh screeched.
The lady looked at her in confusion.
“Huh? It’s your mother.”
“NU AM MUMMAH DUMMEH MEANIE!” Bestest babbeh screeched “AM MUNSTAH! MUNSTAH!”
The Munstah made a weird grunting noise, one that terrified Bestest babbeh. He backed away with frightened eyes.
“Nu huwt! Nu huwt! Am gud babbeh!”
The lady suddenly tossed the Munstah into a cart. A trolley with a massive metal box atop. Instantly, Bestest babbeh felt relieved. He found himself looking at the lady in a new light.
“Tank… Tank yu nice wady fo sabing Bestest babbeh fwom Munstah.”
He smiled and wagged his tail energetically, feeling elatement, but that soon vanished when he noticed her look of disdain.
“Wa… wai nice wady gib Bestest babbeh meanie wook? Nu be meanie to Bestest babbeh!”
For a moment the lady looked surprised, then she looked upset as she placed a hand over her forehead.
“I… I don’t understand. I… How are you…”
The lady suddenly grabbed him, and Bestest babbeh squealed in terror.
“Nu huwties! Nu huwties!” He screamed.
He looked at the lady with horror, as she lifted him in the air. She had the most terrifying face he had ever seen. Pure seething rage that burned so fiercely that it felt like she was piercing his heart. He could feel her fingers tightening. Slowly crushing his fragile form. Panic set in, and his survival instincts began to kick into overdrive.
“Babbeh am sowwi!!! Am onwy wittle babbeh dun kno an bettah! Wat ebah babbeh du am sowwi! Sowwi! Pwease be nice wady n nu gib huwties! Am onwy wittle babbeh! Wittle babbeh am onwy fo huggies n wuv n pway n wuv!..”
Bestest babbeh began to cry profusely, as snot began to leak from his snout.
“… Nu gib huwties! Onwy wittle babbeh! Pwomise to be bestest babbeh ebah! Pwease be nice nyu mummah n nu gib babbeh foebah sweepies! Babbeh am gud n nu dewseve foebah sweepies. Pwomise nebah ask fo any ting ebah gainse, ju wan wuv n huggies! Pwomise tu be bestest gud babbeh foebah!”
The lady’s eyes softened. For a second he saw a flicker of kindness, but then she rubbed the bridge of her nose and sigh.
“I… I don’t understand…”
“Babbeh undewstan!” Bestest babbeh quickly replied “Pwomise to be bestest guddest babbeh ebah! Nebah sa gib worstest sowwi hoofies n bad poopies ebah gainse! Nebah ask fo sketti n nyu toysie n housie, onwy wuv n huggies! Pwomise! Pwomise!”
“Why… Why did Hasbio make you like this?”
In that moment, Bestest babbeh saw the sadness in her eyes. A look of defeat. He didn’t understand the question, but for that moment he felt calm, until the look in her eyes changed. The rage. The fire was coming back.
“You’re fully aware of what you did wrong. You always are, but you only know repentance when you’re on the verge of facing consequences. Only then do you know what to say. How to manipulate us. How to… you… you… you are defective. A defective toy… A manipulative… ugly… ARROGANT IDIOTIC DISGUSTING VILE PIECE OF SHIT!!! YOU ARE THE REASON PEOPLE HATE FLUFFIES!!! YOU ARE THE REASON SHELTERS LIKES OUR EXIST!!! YOU ARE THE REASON THAT ELLA WORKED SEVEN DAYS A WEEK TWELVE HOURS A DAY NON-STOP! AND HOW DID YOU THANK HER?..”
Her grip on his small form had begun to tighten, and the burning seething rage in her eyes was terrifying. It was scarier than anything out there. Scarier than the munstah from before. He stared at her and all he saw was death.
“… YOU LAUGHED AT HER! YOU CELEBRATED HER DEATH! YOU DANCE AND CHEERED! WELL I DON’T SEE YOU FUCKING LAUGHING NOW DO I!? GO ON FUCKING LAUGH!!!”
Something in his brain had snapped. Like a broken glass, his intelligence drained into nothingness, as his mind regressed. In this moment there was only one thing he could think to say.
Cheep cheep cheep cheep cheep
For a second the lady looked surprised, but then she got angrier.
“That’s it!? That’s fucking it!?! THAT’S ALL IT FUCKING TOOK!? AFTER ALL THAT THREATENING!? ALL THE FUCKING TALK OF WORSTEST HURTIES AND THE SHITTEST OF SHITS AND… AND…”
The lady’s grip tightened and Bestest babbeh’s survival instincts kicked him. He began to hit her hand desperately with his weak, pathetic hooves.
Pipipipipipipipipipipipi
This only seemed to make the lady angrier
“WHERE’S THE FUCKING WORSTEST HOOF HURTIES YOU KEPT BOASTING ABOUT YOU ARROGANT SHIT FUCK!?!!”
Pipipipipipipipipipipip
Her grip had tightened and he could feel his ribs being squeezed. Pressed beyond breaking point and just waiting to snap. He continued tapping her hand helplessly. His eyes going cloudy from all the tears and all the snot making it difficult to breath. He saw her face. The cold look of pure disgust and then he felt a snap. His bones shattering under the unyielding grasps of this vengeful deity. The pain of his internals being pierced and ruptured. His very being transformed into nothing more than a meat bag of thick red sludge. An iron taste filled his tongue. His eyes rolled to the back of his skull.
His last moments of life were nothing but agony.
Stupid fucking nasty narcissitic fecal factory. Disgusting vile conniving trash pony. The absolute idiocy of this swine vermin. The obliviousness of this absolutely antagonist little fucking… What the fuck! WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCKING ABSOLUTELY FUCK! WHY WERE THEY LIKE THIS!??! WHY!? WHY!?!??!? Fluffies were supposed to be sweet. Fluffies were supposed to be kind. Fluffies were supposed to be adorable. They were supposed to be these cute living plush toys!? That’s what Hasbio said! Why were they like this!? So manipulative!? So abrasive!? Was it her!? Was she the problem!? Hugboxers would call her the problem right? She was supposed to be a Hugboxer, right? She was the one who was supposed to have sympathy for these things, right? These… these…
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!” Emilia screamed.
The shelter was silent. Not a single Shit Rat dared to utter a word and yet all Emilia could hear was their incessant whining. A whole year’s worth of complaints from the most spoiled and selfish atrocities in the entire planet.
She went berserk.
Slammed the glass door open, she saw a single Fluffy cowering inside.
“Nu huwties!” It screamed, as it scampered as far back as possible.
She reached in and grabbed it by the tail.
“Nu huwties!” It cried “Am Gud Fwuffy!”
Good Fluffy? Did this loathsome foal fucker just call itself a Fluffy? Even after all the damage it had wrought to the reputation of Fluffy kind in the eyes of the masses?
Punish it.
She forcibly pulled the Shit Rat and sent it launching at the cart.
BANG!
She had hit the cart square on the side, causing it to rattle violently. Meanwhile, the Shit Rat landed on the ground. It’s snoot was dislocated and it was naturally crying. The terror in its eyes as she approached.
“NU MOWE HUWTIES!!!” It screamed.
Emilia felt cold. There was just something about them. How even in a situation like this, they still felt that they could make demands. Why did Hasbio make them like this? She knelt down and looked the Shit Rat in the eye, trying her best to hold back her raw seething disdain.
“Or what?” She asked.
“Huuuuuu…” The Shit Rat replied.
“Answer the question”
“Hu hu hu… Fwuffy nu underwstan… hu hu hu…”
“You demanded no more hurties, but… what if I continue? What would you do?”
The Shit Rat looked at her with a mixture of confusion and terror. She could practically see the wheels in its brain turning. Probably formulating an answer that was designed to evoke pity or some sort of sympathy. She had to wonder what its life was before Entepott. How good its life must have been. A small part of her had to ponder if the owner was a fault. Spoiled rotten by someone who didn’t know how to care for Fluffies. But Entepott was unkind to Shit Rats. Surely the experience should have humbled it, right? Instead it celebrated the death of someone she so deeply admired.
“Fwuffy… Fwuffy… Fwuffy pwomise to bestest gud Fwuffy ebah! Nu mowe poopies out wittebox n nebah demand ske-”
“Hey, do you remember Ella?”
“Ew… Ewwa? Am nyu namesie?”
“No you id… No… A human. Her name was Ella.”
“Pw… Pwince nu… nu wememba… hooman wit namesie Ewwa”
“How about a human who fell down and got forever sleepies. Do you remember cheering and celebrating her? Being happy that she died?”
The Shit Rat’s eyes lit up slightly and it quickly averted its gaze in a suspicious manner.
“Pwince… Pwince nu… nu wememba du dat.”
Emilia stared at it coldly. This one knew how to lie. This one was smart enough to know the consequence of admitting the truth. Hasbio designed them to be like this? She could only make a disappointed sign. One that this Shit Rat was quick to pick up on.
“Pwince wie! Pwince wememba! Bu… bu Pwince pwomise nebah hab heawt happies wen dummeh meanie hooman hab foebah sweepies gainses! Pwomise! Pwomise!”
Emilia nodded slightly and took a deep breath. On the lower rack of the cart was a duffle bag full of tools. Instruments to help her properly impart her wrath. She grabbed it and pulled out a metal telescopic stick. Hasbio sold these kinds of things. Overpriced yet similar, but it meant that they knew. They knew that Fluffies had the potential to be cruel and created an instrument to punish them. They knew that they were creating these psychopaths.
“PWEASE NICE WADY! PWINCE AM GUD FWUFFY! PWOMISE TU NEB-”
THWACK
The feeling of the metal whipping the flesh. Imparting her rage in a single cruel cut.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
THWACK
The satisfaction of briefly silencing the shrill screams of this contemptible creature.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
THWACK
The hideous pig rat had realized the futility of its screaming and had instead tried to protect itself by curling up into a ball and covering its face with its forelegs.
“Pwease nu mow-”
THWACK
“Nu m-”
THWACK
“N-”
THWACK
“Hu hu h-”
THWACK
THWACK
THWACK
THWACK
A feeling of brief satisfaction. Better than that foal. A feeling that she had managed to avenge Ella in some small way. Punish this Shit Rat for mocking her in death. She stared at the filthy thing. Sobbing softly as it clung to its tail. Pathetic. This little monster probably bullied other poor little Fluffies all its life and yet the minute it was one the other end of the stick, this little shit had the gall to play the poor little victim.
God how this thing disgusted her.
God how much rage she felt.
She reached inside the bag. A six pack of warm beer. She cracked one open and chugged it down. It tasted sour yet refreshing. It made her feel funny. She smiled slightly and eyed the Shit Rat. All curled up and huhuhu-ing itself softly. The feeling of disgust came back, and she threw the can at the Shit Rat.
“SHUT UP!” Emilia screamed. “You don’t get to feel sorry! You got to have a nice life and you threw it all away you pathetic sack of shit!”
The Shit Rat stared at her with fright, trying to crawl away, as Emilia started chugging down another can.
“You don’t get to cry! You got a nice life before this! A nice house! Three meals a day! All the toys you would ever need! A NICE. LOVING. OWNER!”
A thought occurred. What if this one came from a horrible home. A Fluffy who only knew of abuse all its life. Molded by animosity. A victim as much as the Good Fluffies and the Entepott Helpers.
They wouldn’t have laughed at Ella.
A cold reminder. She grabbed the can and flung it at the Shit Rat again. It missed, clattering harmlessly on the tile floor. The Shit Rat stared at it silently, as Emilia grabbed another can.
“Stupid ugly pig rat.”
“Nu am pig wat.” The Shit Rat muttered
Emilia eyed it as she chugged down her third beer, watching as the Shit Rat stood up slowly and began to puff its cheeks, stomping its hooves angrily on the tile floor. God not thi-
“Dummeh meanie munstah wady dun kno Pwince! Befo meanie shewtew Pwince onwy hab heawt hurties n worstest saddies…”
Emilia felt a hint of worry. A fear that this Fluffy was everything she hoped it wasn’t.
“… Pwince nebah hab nice daddeh… ONWY GIB HEAWT HUWTIES!!…”
The Fluffy continued to stomp its hooves angrily, as tears began to pour. Emilia stepped back slightly. A flicker of concern. The possibility of what she had feared.
“PWINCE ONWY HAB SAFEWOOM BU DADDEH HAB BIG HOUSIE! ONWY HAB TOYSIE! NU GET AWW TOYSIES ON TEEBEE! ONWY GET SKETTI ON SKETTI DAY! NU GIB EBWEY NUMMIE TIME! WAN SPECAW FWEN N ONWY SA WATEW!”
The Shit Rat began to cry. Lamenting on this clear injustice.
“Iz… iz nu faiw… daddeh get wat wan wen wan, bu… Pwince nebah get… onwy som time… iz nu faiw… nu faiw… so Pwince wun way tu hab biggest housie n aww sketti n aww nyu toysie… bu onwy get dummeh shewtew n eban wose specaw wumps hu hu hu… ”
The Shit Rat had started crying. It was clear that it’s life was a tragedy. Such an unfair fate to befall such a poor, unlucky soul. So unfortunate. So sad… so… so…
Emila knelt down and stroked the Shit Rat’s mane gently. It looked at her in surprise, then sat on its rump. It’s head down low as it continued mourning its miserable life.
Repulsive
She continued to stroke the Shit Rat’s mane, and it seemed to take comfort in the act, making soft delighted coo-ing noises.
Repulsive Rotten
She used her free hand to tickle the fur under his chin, illiciting soft childish giggles
Repulsive Rotten Retard
Her grip tightened. Both on its chin and its mane.
“Nice w-hrrrrrrrrk”
Choking the vermin slowly, her other hand began to pull on the mane. The fright in its eyes was as clear as day. She began to tug harder, pulling on the hair as it strained against the flesh. The Shit Rat squirmed, shook and tried to squeal, as it desperately tried to escape the situation, but she kept an iron grip around its throat, as her other hand began to pull with greater force.
“Nuurrrrrrrr” The Shit Rat managed to gargle, despite the tight grip she had over its throat.
It had begun to squirm more violently. No doubt in response to the pain of having the hair follicles ripped from the skin. Its bloodshot eyes looking at her with absolute terror. Its hooves desperately tapping her hand in a pathetically useless attempt to free itself.
She suddenly yanked the mane hard, and felt it rip from the skin. The abomination’s eyes rolling to the back of its head as it began to spasm fiercely. She tightened her grip around its throat and crushed its larynx, then she let go of the wretched entity. Letting it spasm on the floor, as blood leaked from its back and it frothed foam from the mouth.
There was only a single thought in her head.
Punish them.
All of them.
Every single one of these detestable aberrations.
PUNISH THEM.
PUNISH THEM.
PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM. 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I’m sorry.
I really am sorry.
You three endured and struggled a lot and… for it to just end like this… To finish in such a tragic manner…
I know it doesn’t mean much, especially from me…
But I truly am sorry for doing this.
“Du… du it Mummah Mummah.”
Millie stared at Veve, who was trying her best to look brave even though she was shaking quite noticeably. Gwent was next to her, trembling yet also trying his best to look brave. The two of them standing in front of Nelio to protect him.
“Gwe… Gwent nu… nu hab scawdies.”
Millie aimed her gun at them.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Three foam bullets with extra soft padding. Specifically designed to be harmless even to Fluffies. Each of these bullets hit their mark. One to Veve’s forehead, one to Gwent’ forehead and one to Nelio’s side.
Peep
Veve and Gwent fell to their sides dramatically. Both pretending to have perished, as they closed their eyes with their tongues stuck out. For a few seconds they continued this act, before they finally broke out into a fit of giggles. The two of them suddenly opened their eyes and leapt to their feet and Millie gave them a standing applause.
“Bravo! Bravo! What wonderful actors you two have become.”
Veve and Gwent beamed proudly and both bowed, as Millie continued clapping.
“Okay okay. That’s enough acting for today. Play time for one hour and then lunch, okay?”
“Otay!!” Veve and Gwent cried out in perfect unison.
The two Fluffies quickly began to run around Nelio, the SBS itself chirping cutely in amusement, and Millie walked to the porch, where her cute fiancé was looking at her in confusion.
“What the heck was that monologue?!” Alize asked in confusion.
Millie grinned “Oh you know. Just adding some dramatic flair”.
Alize snorted slightly, then grinned, as Millie kissed him lovingly on the cheek.
“You no like?” She asked in a fake cutesy tone.
Alize snorted again and chuckled.
“I like I like!” He reassured.
“Wonderful!” Millie replied with a grin. “Now go be a doll and relax in the living room. I know you have your video game you wanna finish.”
Alize blushed slightly before grinning, then kissed Millie on the cheek before walking off.
Millie smiled, feeling content as she sat down on the porch, and she watched Veve, Gwent and Nelio play. She was glad that she agreed to babysit the three for Bebe. Her bestie had gone on vacation with her husband, and had left these three with Millie, rather than leave them in a daycare. It was therapeutic watching them play. Such delightfully adorable little things. So… ∂єℓι¢ισυѕℓу ∂єℓιgнтƒυℓ.
She shooed such thoughts away and simply watched them play. Lovely little Veve and the inseparable siblings, Gwent and Nelio. Such a strong brotherly bond. Those two would certainly make for quite a great story. Something like Gwent the valiant knight, who dutifully protected his brother Prince Nelio. A tale of drama, action and romance? She thought more about this story.
Gwent and Nelio. The adorable fuzzy pair. A valiant knight and his innocent brother.
She thought of a fool who would force them to a world beyond their imagination, motivated by his own misguided beliefs.
A princess who would become queen. Perhaps once their allies, before hatred would consume her and she would build an empire to destroy their kind.
Two boys, who sought to help the world in their own little way, but their intentions were steeped in malice and they would unknowingly light a fire that would turn into a calamitous inferno.
At the center of it all, Gwent, Nelio, the fool and one more.
What a story it would be. Wouldn’t it be interesting if it came into fruition.
So why could she only think of tragedy?
She looked down at the grass, feeling oddly sombre. She didn’t know why, but she felt that it really needed to be said.
“I really am sorry you three.”
Emilia was slumped against a wall, feeling emotionally dead and very much alone.
She didn’t get it. Fluffy abuse. Wasn’t it supposed to make one feel better? That’s why abusers existed, right? Why you have to keep an eye on your Fluffy when it brought it outside your home, for fear that someone would mutilate it, and why those scary Fluffy torture dungeons exists, or even why they had a built a market for hurting these things. Because it felt good. It was supposed to be a satisfying experience.
So why did she still feel miserable?
She cracked open another beer and drank it slowly. God warm beers really tasted like crap didn’t it? And it certainly didn’t help brush away the numbness. She made a soft, defeated sigh. This whole act was pointless. Ella would have hated it. Ze would just get worried. And in the end, she still felt the same. A selfish fuck up who let down her friends, just becuase she couldn’t get over it. Such a fuck up.
A part of her had hoped that this would have cured this feeling, but even now she could still see it. Ella on the floor and the Shit Rats celebrating. Their cute, smiling faces. Their innocent child-like laugh. Their fuzzy little bodies. All tainted by the blood of a close friend.
She looked at the blood in her hands. It was so surreal. She didn’t recognize them. Her hands. She made another soft, defeated sigh. She wasn’t a Hugboxer anymore. She didn’t deserve to call herself that. But did she even want to be a Hugboxer now? What did it mean to be a Hugboxer? She touched her bruised rib, wincing slightly. Did being a Hugboxer mean hurting other people under the moral justification that they were doing it for Fluffies?
Or to be one of the lambs guided by the Hugboxer fund. A corporate entity that masqueraded as a charity group. One that cared more for Fluffies than people. They couldn’t even pay Ella a shred of respect, and one so quick to judge. All it took was one man to call them abusers and the fund cut funding instantly. They knew that Hugbox shelters like Entepott depended on the fund. It pretty much paid for their livelihood, yet all it took was one false claim and that was all gone, and yet people like her used to look at them as the main source of guidance. Being a Hugboxer meant following the guidance of a flawed authority?
Did being a Hugboxer meant defending all Fluffies? Even the Shit Rats? Even the ones who would betray each other without a second thought? Exploit their weak for their own pleasure? The ones who lived lovely lives and lost it all due to their own selfishness, yet were still unable to learn and grow, stuck perpetually in this toxic cycle of self-victimization and greediness. Rotten creatures that knew how to manipulate people to serve their own interest with just the right words and the right looks. Did being a Hugboxer mean that not only did you have to tolerate them, but even ensure their survival? Keep them alive and comfortable. Let them live a long agreeable life. That was a condition of any Hugbox shelter that wanted the support of the Happy Hugbox fund after all. To keep Shit Rats alive. Was that what it meant to be a Hugboxer?
She took another sip of the warm beer, as she thought about the Entepott Helpers and the Good Fluffies. She had always told herself that they were different. That Fluffies and Shit Rats were two completely different things. But in truth, they looked the same. They sounded the same. They felt the same. There used to be a line between the two, one she could clearly see, but now. Well now it was just blurry. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the carton of cigarettes. One left. Ella’s last one. Emilia lit it up and placed it in between her lips.
“I’m sorry Ella. I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
She took one look at the carnage, then closed her eyes.
Goodbye Entepott Fluffy Shelter.
