Hey thanks @Catty217 for the great idea! It was a lot of fun to write this. I expect that Jim will be back, along with his crew. Please enjoy all
Ernie swore. “Fucking micro shit-rats. Fuck.” Ernie had a chicken farm out in the country. It was his pride and joy. He moved out there 10 years ago, from the stress of a law firm, a divorce from a psyco bitch and a nervous breakdown, this was a much better way of life. So far things have been going alright. He was away from the city (and his ex) so when the Hasbio corporation had the outbreak of fluffies 8 years ago, he didn’t concern himself with it. The biotoys were for the city folk. He seen them when he drove into the city to see old friends, they clogged the alleyways and streets, their stupid baby talk rising up mixing with the sounds of the city and ug, they can have it.
But now he has a problem. Micro fluffies have invaded his land. How they got there, he had no idea. Maybe they stowed away in his engine compartment… At any rate they were there now! Ernie walked into his house and sat down on his computer.
“Fluffy exterminator… near me…” He typed into the search engine. A second later the results came up. “Fluff-b-gone” Ernie picked up his phone. 523 reviews and a 5star standing, guy must be good.
“Fluff be gone, Jim speaking” The gruff voice hit Ernie like a gravel truck.
“Hello, I need some fluffies to be exterminated on my farm.”
“Damnable things aren’t they?” The graveled tone tumbled out what Ernie thought was a chuckle. “Where are ya?” Ernie gave him his address. “Alright, I’ll see you in an hour and a half.” Click. The line was dead. Ernie put down his phone and waited.
A hour and twenty eight minutes later a truck rumbled down the driveway. It was remarkable, 1975 U-haul truck. It was painted jet black with big red letters ‘Fluff-B-Gone’ on the side, dripping like blood. Motorhead blared from the cab as it came to a hard stop. The door opened and a giant of a man exited from the cab. He was well over 6’8 400lbs if he was an ounce. His face was covered in a heavy beard. Long hair came out from his leather cowboy hat. A leather patch covered his eye. His long coat came down to his cowboy boots. He adjusted his jacket with his one good monster hand, the other had a duo hook that clicked as he closed the door. He pulled out a cigar and lit it as he walked towards the farm house door.
Ernie stepped out and walked towards Jim. Jim stuck out his good hand.
“Jim” He said through the cigar that was clenched in his teeth.
“Ernie” Ernie said as he shook the large mans hand. Ernie was no means a small man, but the size of that paw made him feel like a little boy. “This way, Jim.” The pair walked towards the chicken coops.
The farm was a fair size, he had a few pigs and sheep, but the bread and butter was the chickens. He had over 200 birds all egg laying so when he noticed the auto feeders emptied so quickly after he filled them he had a feeling. Then he heard the babble of the deviled creatures and he knew he had a problem.
Big Jim looked around the coops, kicked boards of the coop wall, there was a squeal of fluffies muffled by the wood. Jim walked to the feeders tilted his head left and then right, cracking as he did it. He kicked the dirt and then turned. "Yup there is an infestation alright. Micros. Filthy little critters.” Jim flicked his cigar. “Not the worst I have seen, good thing you called me. My price is 1200 dollars. I can start right now.”
Ernie was taken a back, “Wow that’s very reasonable. I thought it would be more…”
“I am well established, I take what I need. More for the pleasure of wiping this God forsaken scum ridden filth from the face of this good Earth.” Jim walked to the back of his truck. He unlatched the door and it rattled open. Jim stepped in and a second later a large rottweiler hopped out and sat on the ground. It didn’t move. There was a rattle and a moment later Jim came out with a cage under his arm. It held two ferrets. Jim walked back to the coops and opened the cage. “Ok Taco, ok Burrito, you know what to do.” The ferrets scampered from the cage and into a hole in the wall.
Ernie was a little concerned. “They won’t go after any of my birds will they?” Jim laughed, it sounded like gravel falling down a drain pipe.
“My girls have one thing on their minds, and it is Fluffies. You have nothing to worry about, now listen, they should be finding them soon.” The two men stop talking and listened. The Rottweiler laid by the hole unmoving. From behind the boards of the coop a voice was heard.
“Hewwo new fwind?” Followed by “SKREEEEEE, Nu Munsta” There was a scratching and skrees as well as thuds. The dog began to growl. Suddenly from the hole came a fluffy, it was covered in dust and spiderwebs. Pink and green so small, so chubby. It could easily fit in the palm of Ernie’s hand. The big dog snaped its jaws quickly, the thing chirped and was quiet and still. The rottie dropped the dead fluffy on the ground and resumed its position. More fluffies poured from the hole and the dog snaped and stomped them all as they came screaming from the hole. Some tried to turn and go back, only to be met by the ferrets. “SKREEEEE Nu hurties!!” One spry and quick mammah with tiny chirping babbehs on her back ran in a zig-zag pattern. She got passed the snapping jaws of the big rottie. The dog turned to follow but Jim whistled and he returned to the hole.
The fluffy ran towards the two men, she was looking back talking to her babbehs. “Mammah sabe bebbehs! huff huff, Am gud mammah… Mammah will sab babbeh…” Jim’s boot came down hard, blood shot out like a Pillsbury Pizza pop around the sole. Jim twisted his foot like he was putting out a spent smoke. He smiled and gave a bit of a chuckle.
“Can’t let the critters have all the fun.” Jim pulled a lung full of cigar smoke and blew out perfect circles.
The three animals took care of one coop and then another and another. Now there was the feeding station in the middle of the yard. Burrito slipped underneath the large platform. Taco and the rottie stood around the platform. There were two holes that went under and the two killers stood ready. There was a silence then the familiar “SKREEEEEE NUUU HWT FUWFFEEEE!!!” Like Skittles falling from a rainbow, the fluffies scampered out of the holes. Taco was a blur of fur, a fuzzy snake striking with precision biting into heads and necks killing the tiny ponies . The dog snapped up two or three in his powerful jaws, he chewed up adults and babbehs with ease. Worse than cockroaches when one turns on the light, they came, but the two vets took care of them all. Soon there was silence. Jim waited for a moment.
“Sparky, find!” The dog, who till that point Ernie had no idea what the giant beast name was dropped nose to the earth and began to sniff. He went back and forth sinffing like mad. He went to the coops, barns, bins and house, till at last, Sparky went to the back of the truck and sat down. “Good boy Sparky” Jim said as he opened the door of the truck. Sparky jumped into it, followed by Jim. Jim exited the truck with a bag and a broom. Jim carefully walked around the yard and swept up the bodies of the fluffies into the bag. He held the bag in his hooks and the broom in his hand, a cloud of cigar smoke billowed around his head. Much like his animals he was meticulous in his precision till at last, all the fluffy corpse were disposed of. Taco and Burrito went back into their cage. Jim walked over to them, he reached into the bag and took out two dead fluffies and threw them into the cage. Taco and Burrito began to chew on the dead fluffies, making sounds that one would say are happy pleasure ferret sounds. Jim placed the cage into the back along with the bag. He closed the back of the truck and then he turned and walked up to Ernie. “That’s that, will take cheques or cash.”
“You got them all?” Ernie asked.
“Guaranteed, Sparky checked, there are no more fluffies here. I would recommend when you go into the city, wash your car or truck when you get back. They hate water. Hell, most will drown or get smashed to pieces with high pressure washer. The micros are the worse as you can see. Though don’t underestimate the midsize ones. I doubt you have a XL, you don’t seem the type…” Jim looked Ernie over with his one eye. Ernie felt the heat of the look of that one eye. Though he had nothing to fear or hide, he quickly went into the house and brought out the cash, with a tip of $300.
“Thank you so much Jim. You were incredibly professional and very fast! I will make sure that I give you a great review!” The two men shook hands and Jim walked to the driver side of the truck. He snuffed out his cigar as he stepped in and started the truck. Killed by Death from Motorhead roared over the engine as Jim backed out of the driveway and the truck rumbled away till tail lights were all that was seen before they disappeared over the hill.
