"For Sweater Or Worse" by NobodyAtAll

Note: read “Sweater Off Dead” first.

As I return to the bathing room with caveman Chaos and the armor remotely piloted by Minerva, we find Mark, having finished brushing my million dollar alicorn’s golden fluff, now dabbing some kind of greenish gel on the horn stub.

It seems to have already grown back a bit.

“You sure you don’t want any bows?”

“Fwuffy am suwe.”

“Well, you still look amazing.


She does look amazing.

Amazingly expensive.

And I got her for free.

So many people would give their right arm, their right leg, and their right nut/tit for an opportunity like that. Not just abusers.

scratch scratch

But I can’t make the most of it, because, if I turn her into a breeding pillow, there’ll be consequences, served with marshmallows and whipped cream.

That’s if I’m lucky, and Chaos goes easy on me.

And if he doesn’t just wrap me up with a big bow and deliver me to Victor.

Okay, I can do this.

I hope I can do this.

scratch scratch

I wasn’t going to exploit her when I thought that she was just a dingy street earthie.

I’m not going to exploit her now.

We have a deal. She helps me earn my freedom, and until then, we both live large in a fancy hotel.

I had to pay extra points for free room service, and more to keep the minibar from violating my wallet.

That was after I ate the most expensive Mars bar I’ve ever had.

And if it wasn’t for Chaos, I wouldn’t be able to afford the restaurant on a Starbucks salary. He said that he couldn’t arrange me getting that for free, but he did arrange a generous discount.

I don’t how how exactly he arranged all of this, other than him asking Korkea, and the CEO of FauCorp. The hotel’s missing out on a lot of profit from me, but I couldn’t pay up anyway.

Maybe this whole situation with the mare is how I’m really paying for it. I mean, I’m missing out on a lot of profit too, so even-steven.

I still need to see that new room. I hope it’s bigger than the old one.

And I still have work in a bit, so I need to find a daycare to watch the mare until my shift is over.

But before any of that, I need to get this mare chipped, registered, and named.

Fortunately, Chaos gave me a good suggestion for a name, because I was stumped.

I’m more scared of him than ever now, but if he doesn’t take that horrifying form again, I can bear to be around him.

“So, Mark, she’s clean, dry and brushed. Now what?”

“Now we bring her back to Erwin, who will be handling the chipping and registration.”

I look at the cart, then at the mare, and then at Mark, seeing a way to score an easy point or two.

“Can I push the cart this time?”

“Sure, she’s your fluffy.”

I look at the mare, holding my hands out.

“Come on, let’s get you on there.”

Oddly, she doesn’t reflexively assume the, uh, “upsies pose” when someone does that.


So they don’t have to do that.

I earn a couple of points by wheeling the cart back to the examination room, my fluffy enjoying the ride, my bizarre entourage following me, Mark leading the way.

This place is big, I’d get lost by myself.

I hold the cart with one hand, leaving a hand free for scratching as always.

scratch scratch

And we take a brief break here and there to dab more gel on the horn. By the time we reach our destination, it’s… almost halfway back to normal length? Damn, this stuff works fast.

Not all unicorn horns are the exact same length, y’know.

They had a few fluffies at Flufftopia with afros, and one of them had the biggest horn I’ve ever seen on a fluffy.

I didn’t know what to say about that.

When I wheel the cart in, we find Erwin waiting for us, some kind of shiny white gun-like device in his hand.

He notices me looking at it with apprehension, and chuckles.

“Oh, don’t mind this, it’s just the chip applicator.”

Then he looks at the mare on my cart, and beams.

“My, someone’s looking a lot better!”

“Fanks again. Wow, fwuffy am gittin a wotta comp-wih-ments dis bwite time.”

I roll my eyes.

“Were you in on it?”

Erwin projects an air of possibly feigned innocence.

“In on what? I haven’t a clue what you mean.”

“Sorry, but I’ve exhausted my patience for shenanigans today. Can we just get this chip thing done already? Because my day is far from over.”

He places the tip of the applicator against the mare’s flank, and pulls the trigger.


“Chip’s implanted. Now we just need to register your info, and transmit it to the chip. It’s NFC compatible, bevor Sie fragen.

“Dat wuz it? Fwuffy bawe-wee fewt a fing.

“That’s the idea, sweetheart. Oh, that reminds me, sir. Have you settled on a name for her?”

I glance at Chaos, watching with the armor. Mark’s gone back to dabbing gel on the horn.

“I may have gotten a good suggestion from a friend.”

I pet the soon-to-be-named mare.

“I’m gonna name her… Electra. What do you think, partner?”

“Ewectwa, Ewectwa… am gunna haf tu git yoost tu it, but it du soun gud.”

If you need me to explain it: like electrum, which, according to Chaos, is an alloy of… gold and silver.

Yeah, I didn’t get it at first either, but once I did, I thought it was actually pretty clever.

“A wonderful name, sir. Alright, let’s get this registration done, so you can get back to the hotel.”

“Actually, my shift at Starbucks is going to be starting soon, so I’ve gotta find a daycare in the area before I go to work.”

“We wouldn’t mind watching her for you. We’ve got a few empty rooms. Just this once, this is not a daycare. But we can recommend one, if you need someone to watch Electra in the future.”

“I’ve already heard of Happy Fluffy Daycare, and Electra wouldn’t really mind being left alone in the saferoom for a few hours. She’s used to being alone.”

“She isn’t alone anymore, sir. She has you. And you have her.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Ewectwa nu am gunna stawt caww-in yu daddeh yet, foh.”

“I’m not gonna ask you to, Electra. It’s too weird for me at the moment.”

“Wun step at a time.”

“Exactly, girl.”

From there, the afternoon is uneventful.

Chaos doesn’t trouble me again. Maybe he’s just giving me another break, to recover from our chat earlier.

But he’ll probably be back. He’s not going to leave me to my own devices now.

Now that I’ll have a fluffy living with me, he’ll probably be keeping a closer eye on me.

I’m going to have to keep an eye on myself, too.

My shift at Starbucks passes without anything out of the relatively ordinary happening, except a Saingan coming in with his fluffy.

I didn’t know that Saingans cared about fluffies, but guess what, he’s another ChaotiX member, and the Prince of Vajarsi too.

So if he kicks my ass, he’s probably got diplomatic immunity.

I usually keep a stash of toys in my car, and another stash at work. So I didn’t need to go back to the hotel for that, either.

At the end of my shift, as the sun begins to set, I return to the Foundation, pick Electra up, collect that diarrhea medicine, return the amulet, and drive back to the hotel.

I think letting me hold on to the amulet all afternoon was another test.

Erwin did come in a lot today.

Yeah, I recognized him when I first saw him waiting for me. He’s a regular customer at that Starbucks.

By the time I pick her up, Electra’s horn is fully regrown, and they even let us take a few tubes of that regen gel. I put 'em in the bag, with the books and medicine.

They’ve got regen vats, too. Erwin showed me while I was picking Electra up.

I should have asked if there are vats like those for humans too.

Faucheuse Hotel has valet parking, but I prefer to park my car myself.

I like to know exactly where my car is.

As I park in the hotel’s parking garage, I grin at Electra, riding shotgun in her carrier.

“Wanna make an entrance with style?

She grins back.

“Suwe, wai nu?”

So I get out of the car, lift Electra’s carrier out, place it on the floor, and open it, letting her waddle out.

After grabbing the shopping bag full of books and medicine, I lock the car and grin down at Electra, grabbing the empty carrier with my other hand.

“No tiptoeing, Electra. You gotta strut for this.”

“Gut it. Ewectwa am gunna stwut. Wut am a stwut, foh?”

“Okay, listen quickly, because I’m getting itchy again…”

I stride into the hotel’s lobby, Electra proudly trotting in with me.

If this was a movie, there would probably be slow motion and a bit of Gaussian blur.

All eyes in the lobby are on her, and people start murmuring, a few of them already filming this on their phones.

“Is that Ugly Sweater Guy? Where’d he get that fluffy?”

“She’s beautiful! She probably cost him more than his car!

“It’s a Pontiac Aztek, that’s not saying much…”

“She probably costs more than a house! I didn’t know Ugly Sweater Guy was that rich!”

“If he’s loaded, I’m calling him Handsome Sweater Guy from now on!”

“…Honey, you know we’re here for our anniversary, right? Of our marriage?

“Oh, shush.”

“Hot damn, send that fluffy to Fluffywood, she’s got the makings of a star!

“I feel like we should be rolling out the red carpet for her…”

I see that businessman I met this morning with his fluffy, and that stallion has become awful bashful all of a sudden.

The businessman is waving at me with a boyish grin, mouthing the words “I got to try a battle suit on!”

I’m not bad at lip reading.

Electra, however, looks a bit embarrassed by all the attention she’s getting.

Poor thing. She probably isn’t used to it.

I kneel down, putting the carrier down so I can pet her.

“Wanna go back in the carrier?”

She timidly nods, so I open the carrier again.

“Alright, all aboard the Ugly Sweater Express.”

After exchanging room keys, an employee, a rather dapper man in his late forties, leads us up to our new room.

The old room was only a couple of floors up from the lobby, so I’m already looking forward to the better view.

The employee offers to hold the carrier for me, but I decline, letting him hold the shopping bag instead.

I don’t get points for carrying that.


At least two dozen floors up, we walk out of the elevator, and the employee leads us down a hallway, the soft carpet muffling our footsteps.

“We’ve already moved your belongings for you, sir. Handled with care, of course. This is the Faucheuse Hotel, not some cheap, sleazy motel. You know, this is actually a rather special room that’s been arranged for you. Adam Omega once stayed in it.”

“Adam… Omega? Does he have something to do with Korkea?”

The employee makes a “kinda” gesture with his free hand.

“In a way. He… uh… turned out to be the Emperor of the fallen empire of Ad Laun Dyz, and the first Omega Class, turns out that they were named after him. And he… well… wanted to change history so that Ad Laun Dyz never fell. But then Mr. Korkea and Mr. Clockson merged together and killed him. We don’t miss Adam. He was rather harsh to the maids, and in hindsight, it makes perfect sense why. He did seem like a man used to ordering people around. And he frequently voiced complaints that the room was far too small for a man of his stature, but refused to elaborate.”

I grind to a halt when the employee says that first part, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that I’m not walking next to him anymore.


“Ad Laun Dyz. Ad Laun Dyz. Ad Laun Dyz. Ad Laun Dyz. Like… Atlantis? That Adam guy was the Emperor of Atlantis?!? And what the fuck is merging?!? You mean fusion ha merging? Korkea can do that too?”

“Indeed, sir.”

“So does he do that stupid dance with putting the fingertips together?”

Wut dance? Nao Ewectwa wan see a muw-juw.”

“Not gonna lie, I could put up with Korkea long enough to have him give us a demonstration. Maybe I could learn how to do it…”

“It’s not exactly something that you can learn, sir. I understand that the mergers Mr. Korkea has undergone are facilitated by magical bracelets.”

Bracelets? I was expecting earrings.

Which wouldn’t be much better than a dance, but bracelets? That’s not so bad. I’ve got wrists, I can wear a bracelet, so they can’t be that hard to use. Even someone like me should be able to use 'em, right?

However, I’d be willing to bet all of my points that Korkea is friends with the wizard who invented those bracelets, so he’s probably got a say in who gets a pair.

If I’m on that list, Satan is gonna need to borrow this sweater.

I’m lucky that the ChaotiX trusted me with any magical items.

scratch scratch

And it’s not like I’d know what to do with a pair of those things.

If there’s someone out there more powerful than Chaos, I don’t think they’d let me merge with–

Wait. Did this guy say mergers? As in plural?

Korkea’s merged with more people than just… whoever Clockson is? Probably another ChaotiX member.

“How many people has Korkea merged with, anyway?”

“About half a dozen, sir. You… you don’t watch the news a lot, do you?”

“I try not to watch anything ChaotiX-related. Christ, how deep does the rabbit hole go?

Never mind. Room first.

Tomorrow, I think I need to do some catching up. I clearly missed a lot of crazy stuff when I lived in Detroit, and what I didn’t miss was just the tip of the…

Hold on. When I lived in Detroit?

I’m doing all of this to get back to Detroit!

scratch scratch

Although, Chaos does have a point. This city is a lot safer, and the people are a lot nicer to me, at least the ones without powers are…

And even the ones who do have powers are showing me more mercy than I deserve…

The air smells fresher… the streets are cleaner…

Even the tap water tastes better here…

I’m not going native, am I? Great, give it a few more weeks and I’ll be as crazy as everyone else around here, singing Korkea’s praises, just another voice in the ass-kissing choir…

I need to get out of this city.

Let’s just see the new room, and hopefully, I’ll have time to earn some more points tonight.

It might not be good enough for an emperor, but it’s good enough for me.

“Okay, this isn’t so bad!”

It’s a definite step up from the old room.

After letting Electra out of the carrier again, the employee puts the shopping bag down, and shows us around my-- our new lodgings.

It’s got a living space with a kitchenette, a bedroom with two beds, a bathroom and its own TV, a balcony, and last but not least, a saferoom, with all the fixtures, including another TV.

The employee grabs a fluffy-safe remote, turning the TV on and displaying a menu.

“All of our rooms for guests with fluffies come with The Fluff Network, the streaming service for people who truly care about fluffies. Before you ask, no, we do not have FluffTV, and you don’t want it, believe me. Fluffies who watch TFN actually learn from it, for starters. And TFN’s equivalent to Babies! is part of the After-Hours Package, which you will have to pay extra for, so she won’t get a glimpse if you don’t want her to.”

I watch Electra survey the saferoom, curiously examining the fixtures one by one.

“That’s… huh, that’s a smart move.”

“Well, sir, you should have an idea of how smart the founder of FauCorp is.”

Electra can take her time, there’s a lot to see. And I don’t think she’s ever been in a saferoom before today.

She’s making a lot of firsts today, and the weird thing is that it’s actually making me kinda…


Okay, time to step out, because I’ve got some examinating to do too.

As I leave the saferoom to see where they put all of my stuff, the employee follows me out.

And as I walk into the bedroom, looking through the chest of drawers, he continues.

“Your new room comes with a few other perks, sir. You now have free access to the rooftop pool…”

Nice, but I can’t hang around the pool with this sweater on.

scratch scratch

The clothes I had to buy after being stranded in Korkeaopolis are all in the drawers, and they’ve all been laundered, ironed, and folded.

That’s not actually what this city is called, by the way. Apparently, Korkea hates it when people call the city that.

If I ever meet him, I’m going to call it that exclusively, because that’s about all I can do to him.

It’s petty, I know, but let me have this.

Luckily, I’ve gotten this far without a face-to-face meeting with Korkea and Marley. I’ve sighted them a few times, but we never really stopped to chat.

I’m pretty sure he’s keeping tabs on me. Every damn ChaotiX member I meet probably reports to him.

Getting back on topic, I save up enough points, a pair of swimming trunks might not go to waste.

I’m not going swimming with the sweater on.

I’d look like one of those sad fat people who don’t have the confidence to be shirtless at the pool.

“…and you also have free access to our sauna and gym, and will be enjoying a discount at our restaurant, bar, and gift shop. So if you find the towels to your liking, sir, please don’t steal them, we sell them at the gift shop.”

“I’m liking the sound of this so far.”

Now my life is going to have more hot women in bikinis and towels in it. The weather is better than Detroit too. Not exactly a good thing when you’re wearing a sweater and can’t take it off, but I enjoy the weather a fuckload more during SFT.

Yeah, that Rosa chick is taken, but there’s plenty of fish in the sea.

And I should probably spend some time in that gym, considering how winded I got from running around.

Those discounts aren’t very useful, however.

“But, uh, I’m already getting a discount on the restaurant.”

And every alcoholic beverage I’ve purchased since being stranded here somehow became a nonalcoholic equivalent the moment I attempted to drink it.

Chaos doesn’t trust me drunk, that’s obviously why.

As much as I could use a stiff drink, I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t trust myself drunk. Seeing as that’s how all of this started…

Point is, the bar discount isn’t very useful either.

“Yes, sir, this is on top of that. We had our orders come all the way from the top, you know. From the office of Mrs. Laine-Stoley herself. Your expenses here are being paid on your behalf, sir. Someone seems to like you very much. Interestingly, the payment comes in the form of large rainbow-colored sacks filled with cash. Some of them smell faintly of cheese.”

So that’s how Chaos arranged all of this.

“And if I may be so bold as to make a personal request, sir…”

“Considering everything you guys are doing for me? Sure, whaddya want?”

The employee smiles in an embarrassed way.

“Could I… take a picture of your fluffy? Please? She’s just so gorgeous. Did you find her at Flufftopia?”

“Well, I went to Flufftopia… and then I did adopt her.”

“She must have been very expensive, sir.”

I sigh, thinking about all the money I’m missing out on by not turning Electra into a breeding pillow.

scratch scratch

“You could say that, yeah.”

After letting the guy take the picture, Electra begrudgingly posing for it, he leaves, telling me that if there’s anything we need, within reason, he’s one phone call away. He even points out the phone in the room, for room service and such, which was completely unnecessary, because I had a phone like that in the old room too.

Personally, I think he just wants another excuse to look at Electra, but let the poor girl have some space.

It’s been a big day for both of us, so I’m going to take a quick break to unwind, before I go earn some more points.

With everything that’s been going on today, I haven’t had a lot of time to play the game.

It feels like this day dragged on for like three days.

And tomorrow, I’ve got even more on my plate. I’ve got a mountain of homework, plus another shift at Starbucks, so I should probably check that daycare out, just in case.

It won’t be healthy for Electra to spend all the time cooped up by herself in the saferoom. I know she doesn’t mind being alone, but I have a hunch that she could make a lot of friends at daycare, especially after her bath.

At least one of us should have some actual friends in the city.

I haven’t heard anything from my friends back in Detroit. Depending on how far word of my misadventures here has spread, they might think I’m dead.

Not an unreasonable assumption to make, it is Detroit…

But if I’m fortunate enough, I can earn at least an hour of itchless sleep before the next round starts.

I’m lying down on the couch in the living space, having kicked my sneakers off so I can relax properly, and I’m reading one of the books I bought this morning.

I might not get a lot of sleep tonight, but, silver lining: I’ll have plenty of time to get started on all of those books.

Then I see Electra waddle out of the saferoom, and smile at her.

“I wasn’t sure about this Tales from the Foundation book, but now I’m glad you talked me into tossing it in the cart. It’s actually a pretty good read. Did you know that they’ve got a gay fluffy couple who was brought there by an angel?

“Ewectwa knu dat nao.

I sit up straight, lifting her onto the couch next to me and petting her.

“So how are you feeling about this deal? About… all of this? I mean, this morning, you were living on the streets, all alone. And now, well, you’re living in a fancy hotel, and people already adore you. It’s a lot to get used to, right?”

She cracks a grin at me.

“Su du yu adowe Ewectwa?”

“Ha! Don’t get me wrong, I like you. And I don’t actually like a lot of fluffies. Frankly, if I get out of the game, I might just wash my hands of fluffies entirely. No more abusing, no more hugboxing, maybe I’ll move to a planet where there aren’t any fluffies.”


“Well, probably not. Too much effort. My point is, you’re not like most fluffies, and I think this partnership is going to be a succesful one, but at the end of the day, we have a deal. We help each other, and as soon as I’m free, we go our separate ways. And you heard those people in the lobby. Now, you’ve got options once our partnership ends. Like that Fluffywood place. I think that’s where those shows on TFN are filmed, and you do look very glamorous. So it’s not like you’d have to go back to living on the streets after I’m gone.”

“Onwy if Ewectwa wan tu.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a say in this too. We’re not an owner and his pet, we’re partners in not-exactly-crime. Uncrime? Anti-crime? Whatever.”

“But, uh…”


“If… say if Ewectwa wan-ed tu gu wif yu back tu Dee-twoit… wud yu wet Ewectwa?”

I pet her again, thinking about it.

“No. And I say that for your own good, because, well, Detroit… isn’t really the best place for a fluffy to be. It’s not like this city, where people are tripping over each other to help fluffies and even sorry sticks are banned. There’s a lot of people like… like me there. Bad people, who hurt fluffies for fun.”

“Yu nu am wike dat aneemowe, am yu?”

“I’m fighting it every second of the day, you know that. And if I wasn’t playing this game, I wouldn’t be fighting it. Full disclosure, if it wasn’t for the game, you’d already be pillowed and pregnant. But… because of the game… there’s now a part of me that… doesn’t want to do that to you. Because the idea makes me feel… bad?

“Su yu nu am gud yet, but yu nu am onwy bad nu mowe. Yu feew bad cuz yu knu yu haf dun bad fings.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s the reason so many abusers double down. Because the alternative is… acknowledging what pieces of shit they really are. The pain would destroy them. Most of them would rather pretend that they don’t feel anything at all than confront that pain. Or maybe they really can’t feel anything at all, and they’re so broken that hurting others is the only thing they can enjoy. They don’t have the balls to look in the mirror.”

“Su… su dey am cow-wawds, den. If dey am tuu scawedies tu wook in da miwwow, an yu nu am scawedies, dat make yu bway-vew den dem.”

“When you put it like that…”

“But wut Ewectwa nu git am, if dewe am wots of hoomins wike dat in Dee-twoit… wai du yu wan tu gu back dewe?”

“Well… if I can be completely honest with you, it’s not really about going back to Detroit, it’s more about not being allowed to go back. This city is nice and all, but I’m being forced to stay here by powers far beyond your comprehension. You can leave whenever you want. You could waddle all the way to Argentina if you felt like it, and you wouldn’t wake up here the next morning.”

“How faw away am, uh, Aw-jen-teenuh?”

“On foot? Or hoof? You’d be old and grey by the time you get there. By plane would be faster, and by Tele-Port, it would take five seconds, but Chaos won’t let me in there.”


“Because he wants me to earn my way out of this city, and he’s making the rules. Hopefully, it’ll be a while before he throws another curve ball like this. But he wants to keep things interesting, so maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow to find Korkea waiting outside that door with a battle suit.”

Ha! Like he’d ever take a guy like me.

Funny thing is, as bad as I am, I’m not even the worst abuser in Detroit.

In fact, I can think of a guy who is way worse than me.

He taught me a lot about fluffy abuse.

And then I had to forget most of it.

Meanwhile, in Detroit, a man sits on a folding chair in his basement, looking at his phone, the room lit only by a single bare bulb.

The stench of fluffy death hangs in the air, the room and the man heavily splattered with fluffy blood and gore.

Fresh blood and gore.

One fluffy is still alive. Missing their back half, bleeding out, but still alive.

Wan… die…

For now. Give it a few minutes.

The man has short black hair, flat and unwashed. Dark, beady eyes, a flat nose, a waxy, pale pallor, and a toothy grin.

He looks a lot like a shark.

Not literally like a shark. More like what you’d get if you turned a shark into a human. He’s 100% human.

On the outside, at least.

The hollow, dead look in his eyes, however, suggests that he may be empty on the inside.

He’s wearing a bloodstained wife beater, black jeans, and heavy black boots.

He flicks his thumb, browsing YouTube on his phone.

Would it be a surprise if you were told that he’s been permanently banned from FluffTube for a very long time?

Go on, guess how that happened.

Then he sees a video that catches his interest.

A video recorded in a certain city, far away from here, a week or so ago.

The video was taken on someone else’s phone, showing a certain man in a certain sweater, giving some toys to a feral family in an alleyway behind an Italian restaurant.

In the background, a graffiti tag of an X in an octagon can be spotted on a wall above the ferals’ cardboard home.

The sweater-clad man’s back is to the camera, obscuring his face to the viewer.

Then the woman filming speaks up.

“Hey, it’s Ugly Sweater Guy! Say hi to all of my followers, Ugly Sweater Guy!”

The man in the sweater quickly notices that he’s being watched, and covers his face.

“Stop filming, or I’ll make you eat that iPho–”

The abuser watching this video pauses at this moment.

He replays the part with the sweater-clad man covering his face several times.

For a second, there’s a clear view of his face.

It’s a very average face.

But it’s a face the abuser knows well.

And then he grins even wider, like a shark smelling dinner.

“Well, well, well. So that’s where you went, best buddy.”

Then he sees a new video, uploaded earlier this evening, of the sweater-clad man striding into a hotel lobby with a gold and silver alicorn, and his grin widens even further.

“Even got himself a fancy new shitrat, huh? So what made him decide to run out and go all hugbox on me? Bet he hasn’t told anyone about all the fun we had together. Oh, they wouldn’t love him anymore if they knew, would they?”

He starts looking up various topics on Google, including “ugly sweater guy”, “guy in ugly sweater giving toys to fluffies”, Detroit’s missing persons cases, and how long the trip he has in mind will take by car.

“Welp, now I’ve got a road trip to plan, and bags to pack.”

Then he puts his phone away, and gets up, taking a moment to stretch.

“I think it’s time I finally reunited with my best buddy. Never thought I’d be going to fucking Korkeaopolis.

He sniffs his armpit.

“But I’d better clean up first. Can’t drive into Korkea’s city stinking of shitrat gore.”

Then he realizes something, and groans.

“Ah, damn it. I forgot about that mare in the trunk. Gonna have to clean my car, too…”


ohhhhhh dear, this guy is gonna walk into the city and get his ass beat by EVERYONE.

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