“Hot damn.” I say as I notice a new listing from my contacts on the fluffmeta marketplace. One of my associates was offering up free pillow foals and I know they do quality pillowing so I decide to leave the house and run an errand. I get out of the car seeing a small gathering of people around the box displayed in the yard along with a few people walking away with their own selected pillow. I suppress an audible ‘tsk’ as I get to the box noticing all the ones I had liked from the initial post were already taken.
‘I Knew I should not have stopped for the lunch special at the gas station on the way over.’ I sigh and put my hand to my mouth to muffle a hotdog burp as my eyes peruse the remaining foals.
‘too poopy… ’ litterally. 'too ugly… waaaaay too ugly. So ugly it’s endearing but still no… Damn that orange one is heckin round maybe~’ sadly someone else picked them up. . . When suddenly a thought, almost intrusive and foreign and yet I convince myself is my own.
‘Why settle for only mostly round?’
I find my hand moving almost immediately even before my eyes catch sight of the sleak blue orb with its red star pattern. I roughly part the crying purple and orange foals that lay in the way of my prize sending them toppling over. “I’ll take this one.” I say pulling the ball close and turning around.
“Do you want the star ball? It can be yours if you want to adopt… it?” their voice adds trailing off confused as im already moving away.
My mind breaks from its transfixation on the ball as my social awkwardness kicks in. “ER ball~ im adopting this foal…“ I say attempting my best to bluff and quickly waddle run for half a block away from the judgmental stare of the yard sale like adoption spree. After adopting a more comfortable waddling pace I continue my walk home playing with the ball all the while.
As I was casually caressing and occasionally squeezing the ball happily I stop.
I notice two black dots peeking out from between my fingers. My heart begins to pump as my mind races, praying… That this is just a simple pop culture moment of sudden sentience and mobility to the normally inanimate object and not a mimic or polymorphic ‘the thing’ like entity ready to devour my hand. ‘knowing my luck it would just maim me and I wont even die.’ I think for a moment before swatting away the bad thoughts with the microdose of testosterone todays physical activities have bestowed upon me.
“So uh… Hi?” I add nervously, my self imposed reclusiveness making me appreciative of even the touch and presence of whatever this ball was for company. Its why you kind of liked fluffies, they so willingly gave hugs to the touch starved like yourself.
The eyes shifted expressing themselves you think in a friendly tilt, you guessed at least as the star arms shifted in a fashion similar to cheeks if you pictured the top arm of the star as a nose.
“I guess you can understand me… Blink once as yes if you do, er please.” You add approaching your poarch and setting down on the steps and watch as the eyes blink to you.
“Neat. So uhm, do I need to feed you?” you asked uncertain as you gaze down at the ball in the flat of your hand like the wizard you were pondering an orb. It blinked once again, likely implying ‘yes’ again. The pentagon pattern vanished and the star parted itself open as bits of fur and hoof bits fell out from the parted hellmouth most metal album. A long tongue reached out and licked at its surface licking away the remnants of a tear from one of the foals from the box you hadn’t touched yet.
The thought disturbingly enters your mind. Something told you besides the saltiness of the tears it enjoyed something more… Grief, sadness, despair. “Did we just become best friends!?” You added sarcastically to a inquisitive squint that felt like a single sus eyebrow raise. “Sorry, felt like a fitting meme.” You add apologetically to the parasocial entity.
“Guess I’ll need to find you something for feedings…” You add awkwardly as you don’t go for the full time expense of a pet as you barely manage to keep yourself supported. You’ve got decent amount of spare money around, but that’s mostly from lack of taking care of yourself properly and having minimal desire to go out and do things or shop more then the occasional grocery outing or seasonal visit to thrift stores to check out their new selections.
“Dummeh human!” a voice makes itself known from up the walkway. “Dis smawty wand nao!” A triumphantly mediocre yellow unicorn with a burnt orange mane, crooked horn and dry brittle looking coat adds. Winter had been hard on him it seemed as they were thin. Their special friend a mixture of pink purple and red splotches with a black mane foraged on your front lawn as it was between snows and your walkway had a few weeds you had meant to cut back and spray at the base before it warmed up for spring. “An gib toysie for wastest most bestest babbeh!”
It was then you noticed the foal trundling behind its mother begrudgingly to continue feeding as she moved across the walkway to eat the other side of the walkway weeds. While you hated the idea that the rest of the litter probably starved for the spoiled brat to live, given it was winter it was actually a decent strategy to reduce the burden. Even with only one foal though, they were just barely getting by.
“Sure thing.” You smile. “Hey little guy, you want to come and play ball with me?” You add tossing the ball in the air for a moment. The eyes were gone and the pentagon had returned as it rosed into the air and then fell back into your hand.
The foal pulls away licking milk from its lips. “Am widdwe guy?” the silver haired foal with a white mane adds curiously.
“Yes you.” You add tossing the ball again.
“Baww! Widdwe guy wub baww!” They add accepting the new moniker while scampering over and the smarty huffs as if victorious as they go to pick over the dead leaves leaving the better fare for their special friend.
‘Demanding but some redeeming qualities…’ you think to yourself deciding the smarty may just have lack of example and instruction in their life and had not necessarily earned your active aggression. You only really liked abuse and torment when you felt the fluffy deserved it. As Little guy drew near you bounced the ball towards them and it bonked them in the head as the ball rebounded your direction. There was a slightly pause and then a giggle from the earthy foal as it followed.
“Again~again!” They added in pursuit. As you scooped up the ball you considered your options. On the one hand, you could go through a couple minute affair of convincing them to be your fluffies and then taking them in from the back door, through your unused sunroom and then set them up in the basement… On the other hand, you needed to poop so you went with option two.
The ball caught in one hand and then the foal seized in your other hand you stand before going up the stairs to the delayed confusion of the foal. “Wai… Bad upsies!” The earthie added realizing seconds later that it was being abducted.
The parents looked up from their feeding as you unlocked the door and attempted to climb the first step while screeching standard fluffy replies in pursuit only to find themselves shut out. They pounded on the door as your cheeks pounded the porcelain bowl. Almost forgetting your hands were full until the tears ran down your hands you blinked and awkwardly set the foal down in the tub with the ball.
“Whoops. Sorry little guy. Daddy needed to make good poopies and picked you up by mistake.” You add as a squeaking toot seems to accent your lie as you smile. Thankfully fluffies, especially earthies aren’t too bright.
The sniffling stopped and little guy sat down for a second as it came to realization. “Wai~. . .Widdwe guy get new daddeh and new namesie! Dis am bestest day ebah~” Its happiness cut short by a sudden rippling of your cheeks. The ball rolled adjacent to the foal, one would assume from a slant of the tub but it was on purpose as it got in front of any dropped tears that might stick to the bottom of the tub or move towards the drain.
And so you had a new fluffy foal and an mysterious living star ball abonimation. Perhaps soon you’d have a small family of fluffies too…
‘Well shit…’
Made a story out of a muse that slapped me upside the head when writing a comment.