Fluffy Brings a Gun To Daycare
Show-And-Tell was one of those thing that very quickly joined the ranks of horrible ideas for fluffies. You would think that it would be harmless, fluffies showing off their favorite block or stuffed toy, and sure - some of them did that. But at Fluffy Festival Daycare, the first item on the agenda was no favorite toy, but a young stallion’s freshly removed testicles in a jar combined with his harrowing tale of the most dreadful doctor’s visit in existence. A visit that the daycare attendant had to note sounded less than legal.
The others ranged from uncreative to terrible. One fluffy chose her own mother, who went to the same daycare and similarly chose her daughter. Another, evidently having forgotten about the event, grabbed the daycare’s food trough, and a fourth brought in a quite expensive-looking broken vase that he was currently trying to glue together. (How he had successfully smuggled this item in was a question never answered.) By the time a young mare was showing off her newborn babies, brightly detailing their conception and delivery, the daycare attendant finally had to intervene and cut the story short.
“Okay, please, let’s give someone else a chance,” she pleaded. “Bobby, what’s your item? Please, be something normal.”
The fluffy named Bobby, a blackish-red earthie with orange patches, lit up and begun digging around in his thick fluff. A small item, then. The attendant figured anything would be better than the baby story, but when Bobby finally found and pulled out his item, all color drained from her face.
“Dis!” Bobby declared proudly, holding up his item as the fluffies around him oohed and awwed. “Is a gun! Wike fwom da action movies!!”
“Oh my god,” the attendant gasped. “Is - is that real?”
“Yus,” grinned Bobby. “Daddeh says gun is fow keeping famiwy safe!”
“It’s not… loaded, is it? Is the safety on?”
“Nu know what dat means!” Bobby looked to his gun and then aimed it at mister Just-Neutered. “Jus’ know guns make a big big noisie, an’ then bad guys faww ovew! See, yu jus’ have to put yuw hoofsie on dis widdwe bit hewe, an’ --”
As he wormed his hoof onto the trigger and pressed, the gun went off with a loud bang, blood spraying everywhere as his target collapsed. Chaos erupted in an instant, fluffies screaming and running in all directions or cowering on the spot with one even hiding behind the hamster he had kidnapped from his owner.
“Wike dat!” Bobby declared cheerfully. “Jus’ wike in da movies!”
“Oh my God!” The daycare attendant screamed, desperately wracking her brain for any kind of training or instructions on this situation. The closest relevant statement was simply “If a fluffy has a dangerous item, take it away before someone gets hurt”, which was both too late and difficult to apply to a firearm. Still, she had few other options, trying in vain to calm her nerves.
“H-Here, give me that,” she stammered around the heart stuck in her throat and reached for Bobby, only to freeze as the fluffy aimed his gun at her. “B-Bobby!”
“Nu can gif yu gun,” Bobby protested. “Nu wan make daddeh mad!”
“H-He won’t get mad! Just, please, give me the gun. I promise he won’t get mad.”
Bobby pouted, ears drooping as he looked down to his weapon. “Bu’ Bobby nu wants to wose gun…”
“You won’t lose it. I’ll just… just hold onto it for a moment… Okay? Come on, please just take your hoof off the trigger and don’t… don’t fire it again. Please.”
For a few long seconds, Bobby was hesitating. Then he glanced up at the attendant, her desperation slowly causing an idea to form. “If Bobby gives yu gun… Wiww Bobby get sketties?”
“What?!” Oh my god she was being blackmailed. Why was she being blackmailed?! “You - you … Yes! Okay, just give me the gun and you’ll get sketties, okay?!”
Bobby nodded, starting to think about what other demands he could make, when a red-hot pink mare suddenly bowled him over with a loud screech. Both fluffies went tumbling, the gun dropped and firing into the wall so that it only grazed the attendant’s arm. The attendant seized up, paralyzed with shock as the pink fluffy beat down Bobby until he was more blue than red, splayed out on the floor and wailing for mercy.
“HOTCAKES DID IT!” the mare screamed triumphantly as she stood atop the defeated Bobby, who was already crying a puddle. “NAO HOTCAKES GETS DA SKETTIES!!”
Hotcakes sprinted over to the dropped gun and and happily carried it to the daycare attendant with her mouth, placing the weapon in her lap. Then she backed up a few steps and stared expectantly.
“Th… thank you…” The attendant picked the gun up in shaky hands, her legs still feeling like jelly after how close she had come to death. She shook out all remaining bullets and then just sat there, trying to recover her breath and calm down as the other fluffies begun to return. “I… I’ll get you sketties as soon as I can move. Thank you.”
“Otay.” Hotcakes looked around thoughtfully, then noticed Bobby trying to stand and shoved him back down, sitting on the other fluffy’s spine. “Untiw then, it am Hotcakes’s tuwn fow shows-and-tewws! Dis… Am Hotcakes’s wuving wife!!”
As a few fluffies formed a fluffpile around her, the daycare attendant watched numbly as Hotcakes whipped out her supposed loving wife. It was a toy block.
Goddamnit.
At least, she reminded herself as Hotcakes begun to describe married life, it wasn’t a fucking gun.