The tormenter walked into his car-less garage and snapped on the lights. Tucked under one arm was a fluffy pony, mildly unconscious thanks to the damp bandana wrapped around it’s mouth and nose. In the tormenter’s other hand was a cardboard box, delivered to his home that very day… full of tubes of superglue.
He placed the dizzy fluffy on the ground and took out one of the superglue tubes, smiling at it. He had a lot of plans for it.
The bandana around the fluffy’s face had been soaked in rubbing alcohol, which acted in a similar way for fluffies as chloroform did for humans. It wouldn’t knock a fluffy out, but it’d keep it dizzy and confused enough that they couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, and couldn’t even focus their sight on anything. It was the equivalent of hitting them on the back of the head to stun them… although without actually having to hurt them.
The tormenter had done used the bandana several times before. As long as he didn’t leave it on their face for too long, the fluffy would be fine. Anything more than an hour, and the serious brain-damage would occur (assuming there was anything still left to damage, at least). Otherwise they’d just keep inhaling the fumes, and be left in a dizzy stupor from the woozy, hazy vapours filling their lungs and fogging their mind.
It was easy enough. Sneak up on a stray, wrap the bandana around it’s face, wait a couple of seconds for it to take some panicky breaths, and bam. They were putty in your hands.
With the fluffy so dazed it couldn’t tell what was going on or where it was, the tormenter put his plan into action, uncapping the tube of superglue.
He tipped the fluffy onto it’s side and squirted a hefty dose of the superglue onto the fluffy’s hoof, then put the fluffy upright again. He placed the first hoof on the ground, holding it in place firmly to ensure the glue dried. Once it seemed unable to move, he moved onto the next leg, ensuring it was a decent space away from the other.
He repeated the process until all the fluffy’s hooves were glued to the floor, each one spread apart from the others to ensure the fluffy wouldn’t fall. It looked almost like it was trying to be aggressive, spreading it’s hooves to try and look big and scary.
A few minutes later, the tormenter removed the bandana. The fluffy slowly blinked a few times and licked it’s lips, as if waking up from a long sleep. The tormenter, meanwhile, grabbed a Tupperware box full of canned spaghetti, jammed it in the microwave for a minute, and brought it into the garage on a plate, a small trail of steam rising from it.
The fluffy was still dazed and waking up, which allowed the tormenter to place the plate on the ground about a foot in front of it, near enough that it could see and smell it clearly, but too far for it to reach without walking to it first.
“Hey. Fluffy.” The tormenter said, grabbing the fluffy pony’s attention.
“Hu-u-uh?” It mumbled, looking at him with dizzy eyes. “Hewwo mistah!” It said upon noticing him.
“Hey fluffy. Want some spaghetti?” The tormenter said, smiling. The fluffy immediately lit up, all it’s dizziness and confusion fading away.
“YUS! FWUFFEH WUB SPAGHETTI!”
The tormenter gestured vaguely at the plate, and the fluffy’s dim, chemical-addled brain finally woke up fully. The fluffy, transfixed by the spaghetti, eyes unmoving from the steaming plate of pasta, tried to walk towards it… but couldn’t move a single leg. It didn’t even notice at first, until it realised it wasn’t getting any closer, then looked down at it’s hooves and saw they were rooted to the ground.
“Wha? Hoofies! Stop being dummeh! Dewe’s sketties!” It huffed, furiously trying to pull it’s legs up from the floor, but being completely unable to. “HOOFIES!” It yelled, snorting in anger. “WISTEN TO FWUFFY! DEWE SKETTIES! SKETTIES!!! NOW MOVE!”
But, who’d have guessed it, the fluffy’s feet stayed motionless.
“HOOFIES!!!” The fluffy shouted (well, squeaked). “DEWE… AWE… SKETTIES!” The fluffy lurched forwards, trying to charge towards the spaghetti, but couldn’t move at all. It tried again, then let out a quiet yelp, stopping almost immediately, eyes wide.
“Hoo… hoofies… hoofies huwt fwuffy!” It squeaked. It had pulled so hard it had actually hurt itself in the process.
Watching it all happen, the tormenter wondered which would give out first: the glue on the fluffy’s hooves, or the pathetically feeble bones and muscles that held the fluffy pony together.
“HOOFIES! WISTEN! SKETTIES! NO HUWTIES!” It barked one last time, wrenching itself around wildly to try and make a move towards the spaghetti, but again, to no avail. No matter how much it thrashed or writhed around, it couldn’t move an inch.
Finally, after several minutes of nonstop thrashing, it slumped down, panting for breath.
“Gee,” The tormenter said, watching the display before him. “Guess you don’t want the spaghetti after all.”
The fluffy had just enough time to register those words before opening it’s eyes and seeing the plate being lifted away, high into the sky, gone forever.
“NU! NU, FWUFFY DO WANT SKETTIES! GIB SKETTIES!”
It lurched again, and squeaked in pain again, still unable to move.
“Well, clearly you don’t.” The tormenter said. “Otherwise you’d have gotten it already! In fact, I think you’re BROKEN!”
“Whaaa?!” The fluffy squealed in horror.
“Yeah, you must be broken! After all, what kind of fluffy pony DOESN’T like spaghetti?! What the fuck is WRONG with you?!” He asked in disgust, glaring down at the fluffy pony.
“Nu! Nu fwuffy fauwt! It da hoofies! Hoofies won’t move! DUMMEH HOOFIES! Fwuffy gib you big owies fo-”
The pony lurched again, and fell still. It took the tormenter a long moment to realise what had happened. The stupid thing had tried to hurt it’s hooves… by hitting them with it’s other hooves, which also apparently ‘weren’t listening’ to it.
The tormenter had to stifle a laugh at how stupid it was.
“Nope.” He said, regaining his composure. “You’re a bad fluffy. You’re a BROKEN fluffy. You’re DAMAGED! That’s why you don’t have an owner! That’s why nobody loves you! Because you’re BROKEN!!!”
“NU!” The fluffy wailed, tears in it’s eyes. “Fwuffy good! Fwuffy gib wots of wub!”
“No. You don’t. Because you’re broken. You can’t feel love. You just yelled at your own hooves!”
The pony looked at it’s own hooves, and seemed to genuinely realise for the first time that the hooves were part of it’s own body.
“So there’s only one thing to do.” The tormenter said, walking behind where the fluffy was glued to the ground and fetching a large ball pein hammer from the shelf. “Put you to sleep… forever.”
He swung the hammer down, slamming the flat head against the bare concrete floor, which created a massive ‘BANG’ and startled the fluffy.
“NU! NU FOWEVER SWEEBIES!” It babbled, frantically trying to run from where it had been glued to the ground.
“Get ready Fluffy!” The tormeneter said, hitting the hammer on the floor again with another ‘BANG’. “Here it comes!”
‘BANG’ again.
“NU-HU-HU! PWEASE NU HUWT FWUFFY!”
By now the little fuzzy bastard was thrashing like crazy, desperate to get away, hurling itself in any direction, even backwards, just to try and get free of it’s prison on the floor
“Last chance, broken fluffy!” The tormenter said, hitting the hammer again. ‘BANG’ “Last chance before you DIE!”
"NU! NU WAN DIE! NU WAN DIE! NU WA-"
Then something happened.
With a sound not too dissimilar from paper tearing, the fluffy suddenly launching into the air, sailing forwards and hitting the ground face first, rolling onto it’s back, then flopping over onto one side. It had landed facing the tormenter, and he could see it’s eyes were fixed wide open.
Because it had left it’s hooves behind.
The fluffy pony let out an ungodly shriek, and waggled it’s tiny stumps as it tried to get back to it’s legs.
“HOOFIES! COME BACK! COME BACK TO FWUFFY! NEE’ HOOFIES! PWEASE!” It wailed and babbled, blood gushing from it’s tiny shredded stumps
The tormenter was stunned. He genuinely hadn’t expected the little shit to actually have the strength necessary to tear it’s own body apart like that. But desperate times call for desperate measures and all…
He tossed the hammer to one side and walked over to the hooves, still glued to the floor, and nudged them with his boot. The glue had actually mostly peeled from them, if the fluffy had been just a little more careful, it could have actually gotten free.
But, of course, it hadn’t. And that made the tormenter smile.
He looked over at the fluffy pony, flopped on it’s side several feet away, and smiled.
“Look at that!” He said. “You really ARE broken after all! You can’t even hold onto your own hooves!”
“NU-HU-HU!” It wailed, tears flowing from it’s eyes. “NU BWOKEN! FWUFFY NU BWOKEN, PWOMISE! PWEASE HEWP!”
“Nah, I don’t want a broken fluffy in my house.” The tormenter said, picking up the fluffy by it’s head and carrying it out to the yard via the side-door. The fluffy babbled and pleaded wand wailed and cried the entire time, but then the tormenter bowled it over the fence and it’s pathetic mewls faded from sight.
The tormenter walked back in to the garage and grabbed a shovel on the way, grinning from ear to ear as he prepared to scrape the glued hooves off of the ground.
It had been a good night.
(Been toying with doing something with superglue ever since I started posting. I’ve come up with a handful of ideas I like, and this is the first of them. Enjoy!)