A finale epilogue to Mandy MacFeely and the fluff fair fiasco and taking place just after @BFM101’s Farewell To The Fairground
Chapter 1: By the short hairs (again)
The police were still rounding up the fluffers at the fair, the regular people had all jumped ship, and all remaining would be taken in for questioning, all but one, if only for the time being; and this reprobate in question had been dragged from the grass, deep into the bowels of Deacon farms.
Clive woke up in Derek Deacon’s office, face aching, head ringing, cock stinging. He reached forward and snatched the energy drink that was left in front of him, placed by Derek’s beautiful assistant.
He gulped it down, all the while, watching the twenty year old’s pleated skirt sway as she left the two wealthy men to talk.
“Burrrrp.”
Suddenly, a terrible and violent burning sensation ran through his head, his damaged genitals, and his broken nose, clicking, twisting and moulding everything back into place.
He healed, he healed fast, and it tore through him with absolute agony.
“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh! Holy shit, the fuck is this!?” Clive cried as any and all bruising and wounds were cleaned up and repaired.
Then, suddenly, without any fanfare, it stopped, and he was returned to --for Clive-- peak condition.
“Do you like it? It’s called Synth-cola. It’s sugar free, 87% protein, keto friendly, gluten free, and kosher too.” Derek smirked, “One of my investments at Biophallus. The fast muscle recovery and protein content is going to revolutionise the fitness industry.” he added.
“My-… my cock! Why didn’t I get my bell end back?!” The spoiled heir panicked in bewilderment as he grabbed at his genitals.
“Yes, I’m afraid that Synth-cola is still in the beta stage. I’ll have to tell Hudson’s lab team that foreskins are yet to regenerate from the current formula.” Derek glared.
“Oh God… My foreskin… It’s- It’s fucking crinkle cut!” Clive gasped as he looked down.
“Yes, well, you’re a braver man than I.” Derek scoffed, “Fellatio via any living creature with razor sharp teeth is quite the risky venture, I’d imagine; and it appears that yours was rather… unrewarding.” he added with the smallest wisp of a smirk.
Clive sneered at the sleight and turned his attention elsewhere, taking a gander at the girl in her very early twenties, Derek’s personal assistant, as she moved about on the other side of the office’s glass wall.
“Pretty girl…” he commented, before turning his eyes back to his rival, “Have you ever taken a peak with her?~” Clive chuckled spitefully.
“Charming, but you’ll find that my staff are treated like family here. Although, that may be a tenuous subject for you to grasp.” Derek spoke softly.
Clive looked down and noticed that a pink and purple Pegasus filly sat comfortably on Derek’s lap, dozing off sweetly. A pretty little collar with a bell was set upon it, just behind the heart shaped name tag that read as such: ‘Bianca’.
“You mean, with the exception of that vicious little red head slut?” Clive hissed, recalling the pain emanating in one side of his face from a swift kick, and the sharp stabbing of his now --even more so-- crooked nose.
“You should keep that bitch on a leash… Heh, I bet you’d even like that-”. he attempted to prod and mock.
“Clive, please control yourself.” Derek attempted to calmly request.
“-Bent down on all fours, her proud little face rendered to abject misery, her colourful, wild red hair all tied up in embarrassing little silk ribbons, her moa-.” he continued with a spiteful grin, that grew wider with each word, as if he were imagining it for himself, as well as his rival.
“Clive.” Derek sharply responded.
“See, this is why you’re turning grey in your early thirties, you don’t know how to have fun.” was the toothy reply.
“No offence, Mr. Armitage, but I’ve seen how you like to have fun, and I won’t be having a part in it.” Derek grimaced slightly through his poker face.
“You will, you’re exactly like me. You have… exotic tastes. You just don’t have the balls to reach out and take what you want.” Clive chuckled, darting his eyes to the door that Derek’s assistant left from, then back to him; a subtle and silent statement, a teasing of Derek’s business savvy sense of patience.
“So then, are you telling me that you somehow curbed your ‘dirty’ little problem?” Clive grinned as he cut deeper.
“Better than you ever did.” Derek squinted.
“Ah-ha! So you admit it!” Clive smiled triumphant and assuredly.
“What is more admirable, to be born pure, or to overcome your impurities through great effort?”.
“Fuck off with the philosophical waxing. You sound like a queer.” Clive spat with a mouth full of venom, visibly tersed by such a response.
“That’s your father talking.” Derek glared in disappointment.
“Oh, and you don’t have a bit of good old, stroked out daddy Angus in you?” Clive asked as he scrunched his nose.
“Some men build themselves out of negative space, Clive.” Derek sighed.
“Okay…” Clive chuckled, before turning his attention to Bianca.
“What’s with the shitrat? She’s pretty cute, pretty colourful… You fucking her?” Clive smiled cruelly.
“I believe that is more your wheelhouse.” Derek smirked outwardly, although internally stung by such a vile accusation.
“Ohohohoh~, aren’t we a catty little bitch today.” Clive giggled gleefully, “And I do believe that the papers said that video ‘allegedly’ showed me doing terrible and untoward things with a mare who looked suspiciously like my mother’s fluf-.”
“Please, Clive, shut the fuck up.” Derek ordered in an uncharacteristically rough and tired tone.
“What?” Clive hissed in bewilderment.
“I own the uncensored footage, and that is why you are here, in my office, right now.” Derek explained.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Clive growled, “You post that, it’d destroy my apology tour. The papers will go right back to bollocking me.” he panicked.
“Rather tempting.” Derek genuinely smiled.
“Fuck off! You wouldn’t!” Clive roared in petulance and fear.
“Mistah, pweas mayk shushies… Bee-an-cah am twyin hab nap!” the pink and purple filly demanded.
“Derek, shut your fluffy up before I make a fleshlight out of her-”.
CLICK
“Derek, what was that?” Clive asked, genuinely terrified of what the answer may be.
“Just about to post your iconic video… An extended, unaltered, uncensored cut. We’ll let the people decide how ‘alleged’ the rape of that mare was.” Derek sternly scolded.
“Heeheehee!” Bianca giggled, “Daddeh Dewek gut ugwy meanie mistah by da nu-nu pwace fwuff!” she snorted.
“You little whor-” Clive snapped at the filly.
“I am talking.” Derek interrupted.
“Go on, just do it then!” Clive screamed.
CLICK
“Done.” Derek smirked.
“Tha-, That was supposed to be a bluff!” Clive gasped.
“Mine wasn’t… Now, before I have you thrown out, just keep in mind that I have the security footage of you and what you have done today. So I’ll say to you as my father said to your father: If you ever cross me and my business affairs again… I will bury you.” Derek smiled, before motioning to the door.
“Goodbye, Clive.”.
Chapter 2: Heartfelt
Mandy answered her pub and home’s door, wiped the sleep form her face, and glared at Billie as she stood there with a big box of Ferrero Rochers to offer.
“Sup… So… Do ya wanna tal-.”.
SLAM
The door closed.
“Oh come on, Mandy, I just wanna make sure you’re alright…” Billie explained.
The door opened again, Mandy snatched the chocolates and then retreated once more.
SLAM
Mandy leaned against the door and slid down until her rump hit the floor. She dug into her sweets and shoved a mouthful in without a second thought.
“Mandy. I’m sorry I weren’t there for you at the end. I didn’t know about that Clive cunt, if I did, I’d of shoved him in the grinder me’self, cock first.” she pleaded.
“Where were you, then?” Mandy replied with a mouthful of chocolate and hazelnuts as she stared at the floor.
“Trying to keep my own shit together. It was a bad day for everyone.” Billie argued in her defence.
“Well… That ain’t a lie.” Mandy scoffed, until a loose hazelnut began to gag her, “Ack-ACK!” she gagged before reaching for the door and opening it.
A swift slap to the back sent the dreadful chunk flying across the room, away from Mandy. The redhead sucked in her fill of precious air as she struggled to push back the vignette about her vision.
“Ya good?” Billie asked, to which Mandy wearily held up her shaking thumb.
“Mummah Mandeh!” Frankie cried as he waddled terribly to her lap, with Creature not far behind.
“Yew otay?” he asked worriedly.
“I’m- haaahh, fine- haahh.” she replied between tightened breaths.
“Am yew gun gu fowevah sweepies, mummah?” Creature asked.
“Didn’t know you were into asphyxiatio-…” Billie chuckled, trying desperately to defuse the stress of the situation, only to halt at Mandy’s glare, “Yeah, good point… There’s a time and place, I suppose.” she smiled awkwardly.
“Come on, bitch, let’s get ya to the couch.
You, shitrats, follow too.” Billie said, before guiding both Mandy and her abominations up the wooden hill and into the pub’s upstairs apartment.
“Huh…” Billie smiled, looked about, and took in the plain wholesomeness of Mandy’s apartment.
“What?” Mandy coughed.
“I don’t know. I just sort’a-, well, sort’a thought your apartment’d fit ya aesthetic more.” she replied.
“My mums apartment-… not mine.” Mandy replied on either ends of a wheeze.
The coughing girl was sat on her mum’s floral couch and brought a glass of water by Billie. The two sat together in uncomfortable silence as Mandy sucked it down with desperate abandon. Billie herself fought every compulsion in her being to yell “Chug! Chug! Chug!”.
Mandy finished her glass with a deep exhale.
“Thanks, Bill.” she smiled lightly.
“So, how ya doin’? Derek told me everything and I clocked out early to check on ya.” Billie sighed.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Mandy questioned, “To laugh at me-.” she tried to question.
“Sexual assault ain’t fookin’ funny.” Billie said plainly.
“Wat yew tawkies bout? Bad enfies am awways funneh!” Creature confidently asserted.
“I’mma kill him one day.” Billie said in a matter of fact tone.
“Da funniest pawt ob bad enfies wid tawkie bebbehs am wen Cweatuwe watchies dem cwaww backsies tu dey mummah, cwyin’… Den dey see dat Cweatuwe awwedy bad enf dey mummah tuu… Eben dey daddeh, ib Cweatuwe gut da timsies.” he smiled.
“Yew am gwoss… Su su su gwoss!” Frankie hissed at his adoptive brother.
“Yeah, you tell em, shitpig-. Oww!” Billie encourage, only to take a knuckle right to the tit. “The fook, Mandy?!” she whined.
“Don’t insult my fluffies, that’s my job.” the exhausted veterinarian grumbled.
“How do ya live with that? Billie asked. He’s a rapist, noncey lil freak.” she added.
“Because it’d take more effort to kill and dispose of him than what I’m willing to exert.” Mandy explained with rolling eyes.
“I’d kill ‘em stone dead right fookin’ now!” Billie declared.
“Well he isn’t your problem, he’s my problem… And weren’t you here to cheer me up?” the redhead questioned.
“Yeah, I just… Never thought you’d have something like that living with ya.” Billie said, visibly discomforted by Creature’s presence.
“Fine… whatever.” Mandy growled before lifting Creature by the saggy skin around his hunched back and dragged him to the closet, before tossing him inside without a care.
“Squeeeeaaalll! Mummah! Wet Cweatuwe ou! Am gud Cweatuwe! Squeeeeaaallll!” he snorted and screeched.
“Stop being a cunt, and I’ll let you out.” Mandy said as she returned to the sofa.
“Alright, why do ya keep him though?” Billie asked as she squinted at her friend, utterly repulsed by the piss coloured rapist currently pawing from behind the closet door.
“You want me honest answe-.” Mandy went to ask.
“Yes.” Billie sternly confirmed.
“Well, he-… he isn’t all bad. He’s a loyal fluffy, he’s never tried to hurt me, has never lied to me… even if his truth is ugly.” Mandy argued.
“Mandy, he’s a self confessed foal-fucker… If ya hate that Clive bastard, ya gotta hate him too.” Billie huffed.
“Creature is a fluffy!” she tried to retort.
“What do we do with foal-fuckers at the farm?” Billie scowled.
“Well… I’m not getting rid of him.” she responded with an almost childish petulance.
“Why?” Billie asked.
“Because I-… I need to believe that people change.” she began to croak again.
“People DON’T change, fluffies especially DON’T change. We are who we always were.” Billie scoffed, “Things just… make the ugly parts of us bigger.” Billie pouted as she reflected on herself somewhat, before shaking it from her head.
“Wike Cweatuwe nu-nu stickies? Dey am pwetty BIG!” he said, grinning with his hideously un-straightened and yellow teeth.
“You’re so fookin’ lucky I didn’t find ya first, Cunt.” Billie hissed a Creature.
“Yew nuncan touchies Cweatuwe. Cweatuwe nu am scawedies ob yew, dummeh hoomin-mawe.” Creature squinted back at her.
“One day, she’ll get sick of ya, and I’ll be there, and when I do, I’m gonna rip ya double dicks off and feed em to the foxes, along with the rest of ya.” she promised.
“Wouwd wike to see yew twy, gwoss enfie-hoomin-mawe.” he snorted.
“BOTH OF YOU SHUT YOUR DIRTY COCK SUCKERS!” Mandy snapped, “Billie, you’re doing a shit fucking job of cheering me up, so knock it off or get the fuck out!” she ordered, “And you, Creature, I’m THIS fucking close to castrating you. If you want to keep your two meats and veg, shut the fuck up!” Mandy growled.
“Wat bout Fwankie? Du Fwankie nee stop doin’ sum-ting? Wan mummah huwties gu way.” the grey stitch work asked.
“No, Frankie. You’re fine the way you are.” Mandy sighed as she stroked his drool coated chin.
Billie bit her lip as the guilt hit her. She had been so wrapped up in her anger from today’s fluff fair that she had neglected to actually make sure that Mandy was alright, and still had been doing so, even now.
“Come on, lemme buy ya a pizza.” Billie laughed awkwardly, “What do ya want?”.
“Meatlovers.” Mandy grumbled as she squeezed Frankie like a living plushy.
“Big and strong girl like you can handle ya meat, I can respect that.” Billie chuckled.
“Shut up.” Mandy said with a wisp of a hidden smile behind Frankie’s fluff.
“Ha, ‘make me, slut’.” she joked, parroting Mandy’s own banter back at her.
Chapter 3: Decaffeinated Coffee
Brandy carefully walked Coffee to the nurse’s pen, and as soon as the head nurse mare’s tired hooves touched the bed, she flopped down with a defeated whimper.
“Hoaw am yew doin’?” Brandy asked softly.
“Wan sweepies… Wan sweepies tiww aww da huwties gu way.” Coffee whispered.
“Nu saysie dat! Id nu am yew fawt dat Cowffie bebbeh wus huwties by bad hoomins!” Brandy pleaded.
“Bu wat ib Cowff-” she went to argue.
“Nu, dewe am nuffin dat Cowffie cuwd du… bu, Bwandy kno dat Cowffie wouwd twy Cowffie bestest ib hab da chancies.” The orange rookie nurse assured.
“Tank yew, Bwandy. Yew am gun be bestest nuwse mawe wen yew nu am in twainin’ nu mowe.” Coffee smiled as she nuzzled in to sleep.
Brandy went to the other seasoned nurse mares and listened to them gossip like hens.
“Cowffie hab bin su bwave.” Sugar said.
“Tuu bad bout Cowffie bebbeh doh…” Honey mumbled.
“Cowffie wus nebah gud mummah… Moccah heawd bout hew hidin’ sensitibe bebbeh wen befowe wus nuwse mawe. Cowffie onwy nu gu tu towew cus Mistah Dee-kan wub hew udda bebbeh, Bee-an-cah.” Mocca scoffed. “Dat dummeh sensitibe bebbeh am in pwob-eh-bwee in towew noaw wid aww da udda bad fwuffies.” she added.
“Wy we nee towew?” Brandy questioned, although she didn’t know why such an inquiry presented itself in her mind, because every fluffy at Deacon farms knew that the tower was the place where bad fluffies and broken foals go to never return. This was just the way of things.
“Cus we nee towew… Duh?” Mocca snorted.
“Bu… wy doh?” Brandy questioned.
“Because we jus du! Otay?” Mocca argued back.
“Wy Mistah Dee-kan nee towew… Mistah Dee-kan am spose be da bestest and nicest hoomin, su wy wouwd ANEH fwuffies gu bad at Dee-kan fawms?” Brandy pondered.
“Siwwy nyew nuwse Bwandy…” Sugar, the chubby and very friendly assistant head nurse mare sighed, “Mistah Dee-kan am da bestest. Himb nee towew tu keepies bad fwuffies way fwom gud fwuffies.” she said with a mouth full of sickly sweet indoctrination.
“Ib… Ib yew saysie su…” Brandy sighed, utterly unconvinced, still so full of questions.
“Nu wowwies, yew gun unastan wen da timsie com. Den yew gun pass twainin’.” Sugar said as she patted Brandy on the head.
“…Hopies su…” was the rumble of a reply.
Chapter 4: Disappointment beyond measure
Clive had been let go from the farm, only to be nabbed by the police a day later for sexual assault, public indecency, and trespassing; all of which were proven by the copious amounts of footage given to the cops by Derek himself. Although, Derek kept the confrontation with Mandy in the tower to himself. All things considered, It made for wonderful blackmail, and blackmail was useful for protecting his staff.
Clive got out of the police station and hopped into the back of his father’s limousine. He stared awkwardly at his dad, watching him chew a cigar with a hateful glare.
“You fucking disappointment.” Daniel Armitage growled at hid wayward spawn.
“T-thanks for getting me out of jail.” Clive murmured.
“That was holding, you stupid cunt.” Daniel replied.
“Well it was brown enough in there to look like prison.” Clive said, trying to break the ice with something resembling his father’s sense of humour.
“I’m sure it was… Now, let’s talk about what you did.” the patriarch glared as he tapped his cigar into his ashtray.
“I was about to fuck this kinky ginger bitch-.” Clive tried to say.
“Yes, Derek sent me the footage of both… Both that he is keeping as blackmail.” Daniel hissed.
“No, I didn’t mean the fluffy, I meant the huma-.”.
“What did I tell you before?” Daniel asked with a guttural growl and gritting of his artificially whitened teeth.
“You don’t care that I fuck fluffies, just that I-.”.
“DON’T GET CAUGHT!” Daniel roared as he reached forward and shattered Clive’s nose with his ring covered knuckles.
“Don’t cry, you little queer. We’ll throw some Synth skin on it when we’re home.” he scoffed at his son’s weakness.
“W-what are we going to do ab- about the footage?” Clive replied through his broken nose and watering eyes, shivering, as if expecting another fist to come.
“We? WE?! You little cum stain! When have you ever been useful in your godforsaken life? Maybe I shouldn’t have given up on your wishy-washy older brother or dyke sister… You better pull your shit together, shut the fuck up and continue your apology tour, or else.” Daniel lamented and threatened.
“O-okay… w-what will you do?” Clive whimpered.
“That’s where I come in, mister Armitage.” A dwarf in a fancy suit and tie said in a sickeningly thick Irish accent, as he closed his briefcase and took out some papers.
“I’m not just ya family lawyer.” Denis Flanagan smiled as he handed them to Daniel.
“-He also runs the best website scrubbing service outside of Japan.” Daniel chuckled. “We’ll get that uncensored Bonnie foal video scrubbed raw from the Internet, but until then, keep your broken little nose clean, or the next snuff video to go on the Internet will be yours.” Daniel explained with dead seriousness.
Daniel got out of the limo, answered his work phone and disappeared into Armitage manor, and Clive and Denis hopped out after a few seconds, giving the steaming patriarch his space.
“Don’t ya worry, I’ve got this covered for ya… Mister Daddeh Cwimson.” the midget grinned.
“As I expect you to… Mister Oopsy-Poopsy” Clive chuckled back weakly.
an apology tour? Hows does that work? Does Clive go on stage behind a podium and go “aww shucks guys. Im sorry. I didn’t mean to mercilessly rape all the those fluffys. I pinky promise it won’t happen again honest. Please reconsider using my family’s business. Wait why are you all leaving?!?!? Im serious!”