Fluffhaven Fluffy Shelter - not the largest of shelter operations in the area, but a reputable one for certain - especially considering its location just outside of the central city district, where the fluffy population is significantly higher.
Fluffhaven is exactly what the name suggests, a haven for Fluffies - abandoned, abused escapees, long-term ferals, or even simply short-stay pets. It is a truly wonderful place.
That is, at least, during business hours…
THUD!!
A fluffy falls into one of the many spaghetti traps (custom-made devices built to trap ferals and runaways, wafting the scent of spaghetti through alleys typically populated by fluffies), unharmed but startled. Jason stands from the nursery, having fed all of the foals their “premium-grade” kibble (simply long-expired, low-end kibble in a fancy bag) and makes his way to the newly ensnared shitrat.
“Hello,” Jason greets his new plaything, “who might you be?”
“a… am… Disgwase” the Fluffy whimpers, clearly a runaway with that name in mind
“Oh, I’m sure you’re anything but a disgrace. Welcome to Fluffhaven Shelter, little guy!”
“Shewta? Am… am safe? Dis am safe pwace?”
“Of course, buddy! Come on, let’s get you some food”
“Uway!! Su heawt happies!! Dank u, nyu daddeh!”
Jason picks Disgrace up, carrying him through to a door that simply says “FEEDING”.
Behind the door is a dark, rancid-smelling room; the scent of rot and decay, barely kept from wafting through to the public sector of the shelter thanks to enough air conditioning to freeze the oceans over. Disgrace immediately begins to panic, whining and whimpering, shuddering in unspoken fear.
“D…daddeh? Nu wike nyu pwace… nu smeww pwetty ow feew pwetty… wan gu bac tu oda pwace!”
“No, Disgrace, this is where you belong. This is your home now, and we’ll be taking very good care of you!”
“Otay… dank yuu fow tae cawe fo’ Disgwace… am be gud fwuffy, du wateba daddeh sez”
“Perfect. Then you won’t mind sitting in here for a moment, no?”
Jason opens a fluffy container, all windows painted over to make a pitch-black Sorry Box. Disgrace starts to scree, but shuts itself up very quickly - he did promise to do whatever his new daddeh said, after all…
“Huuuu… otay, daddeh - Disgwace wiww wae fo’ yu”
Disgrace is placed into the box, and the door is closed - condemning the little shitrat to darkness.
Jason continues his unremarkable duties in the public floor of the shelter, and Disgrace sobs himself to sleep; forgotten, as good as dead to the rest of the world.
BANG!BANG!BANG! A fist pounds against Disgrace’s holding box - he scree’s so loud his voice cracks, shitting an ungodly amount from the sudden terror inflicted upon him.
“SCREE!! DADDEH, DADDEH, HEWP!! BIGGES NOISIES OWIES!! HEAW PWACE HAB WOWSTES HUWTIES!!!”
Jason, clearly the culprit, opens the container. Feigning sadness, he tenderly lifts Disgrace up - careful to avoid his shitstained back half - and holds him by the scruff of his neck.
“Owies! Ba’ upsies! Ba’ upsies, Daddeh! Pwease, Disgwace nee gu fwoow!”
“Oh? Sorry, Disgrace, can never get used to how you pick Fluffies up. Here you go!”
Jason simply releases his grip, causing Disgrace to plummet to the floor - about 5ft - and a CRUNCH signals some satisfying damage.
“SCREEEE!! OWIES! NU FEEW WEGGIES! NU FEEW HOOFSIES! DADDEH HEWP! NEE HUGGIES!”
Jason is besides himself, pratcically doubling over in a twisted display of hysterics
“DADDEH! HUUHUUUUUU!! NEE HUGGIES! DISGWACE NEE WUN WAY! NEE WUN WAY FO NO MOWE HUWTIES AGAN!”
“Oh? You need to run away again?”
“NEE WUN WAY FWOM HUWTIE PWACE! NU CAN FEEW WEGGIES DO!”
PUNT! disgrace is booted across the floor, spinning from the impact. He slams into the metal gate of a fluffy pen, containing a small family. The gate collapses, crushing 3 newborn foals between it, Disgrace’s weight, and their mummah.
“BABBEHS!! HUUUHUUUHUUUNUUUUU!NUUUU! BABBEHS…GU FOWEBA SWEEPIES! HUUHUUU! NU AM MUMMAH NO MOWE!”
The Mummah breaks down in sorrow, desperately clutching and hugging at the mass of gore that was once her new family.
“NOW look at what you’ve caused, you disgusting sack of shit!” Jason screams, approaching the wrecked cage - and the cowering Disgrace, wincing in pain as he tries to stand on his shattered legs, “You just killed 3 babies, you monster!”
“NU! NU AM DISGWACE FAWT! DISGWACE WA’ SOWWY HOOFSIED!”
“You know what we do to monsters in this shelter, Disgrace?”
“NU AM MUNSTAH!”
“That’s what they all say. COME HERE!”
Disgrace is picked up by his scruff once more, screaming in fear and agony. Jason turns the corner to show Disgrace his fate:
“SCREEEEE!!! HUWTIES!!” A navy blue unicorn yelps, the drillbit piercing his front-left hoof, “NU CAN FEEW WEGGIE!! GIB WEGGIE FEEW BAC! PWEASE! AM GUD FWUFFY!! GUD FWUFFY NEE WEGGIES FO HUGGIES AN PWAY!! SCREEE!!!”
“Daddeh, pwease nu huwt speshul fwen… speshul fwen jus wan speshul huggies! nu do anytin wong!” a shy, scared, purple earthy whimpers, urinating all over itself in silent terror - desperate to know where his long-absent special friend disappeared to, “pwease… nu mow huwties…”
But the earthy’s whimpers go unheard, for they are too late. His special friend is already gone - ground into chunks indescernible from meatballs. In fact, they were the exact same meatballs he had eaten only minutes before.
A fluffy couple cradle one another in their broken hooves, weeping uncontrollably as their foals flatten with a crunch under the mass of a vice grip - reduced to nothing more than a multicoloured spattering of gore, concluding their brief lives in an agonising instant. One of the couple begins to convulse, and dies from the stress of their nightmarish predicament.
“NUUU!! DIS AM NU PWACE FO’ DISGWACE! PWEASE!! AM SU SOWWY! PWEASE! DADDEH…HUUU!!DADDEH!DAAADDEEEH!”
“So many ways to relieve you of your existence… but I can only do it once. Shame. Hmmmm, what will be the most fun way?”
Jason clears the vice grip of the foal-gore, placing it into a food bowl for the last surviving member of the traumatised family:
“If you’re a good fluffy, and you put them back in your tummy, you might be a soon mummah again. But I’ll deal with you later!”
Disgrace is placed in to the grip, embraced by the cold steel - the last huggie he’ll ever feel.
“Any last words, you little fuck?”
“…Disgwace jus wan famiwy…huuu…huuu… Disgwace am awways giben owies an huwties an buwnies and heawt saddies… bu’ Disgwace am just twyin’ tu wive! Disgwace jus wan happies! Jus…wan…h-GHHRRRRHHGHHKKHAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE–!!”
The vice grip crushes him as he drifts into a fantasy. The last thing he will ever know is the loveless embrace of death.
And just like that… it’s all over.