“Dis way hewd! Wes go!” Aloe was sure of his navigation. He had lead his herd through countless (read: more than 2) perils and escaped with all members still intact! Sure they left behind one of Clarissa’s less-than-desirable babies, but honestly how else was he going to fend off that ravenous black bird monster? No, Aloe was a good herd leader. He had seen other smarties charge gangs of his kind into the foreversleep, and had learned (as much as a fluffy can) about the shape of the earth, the ways of the wilderness, and the claws of nature. Roughy ten full-sized members in number, Aloe’s gang was a diverse bunch of various breeding pairs and their litters, compromised of all sorts of colors, builds, species, and dispositions. A regular hot mess of feral fluffy, unified under a mutual desire to survive and a mutual loyalty to Aloe.
The herd babbled incessantly, commenting on their surroundings and whether or not they liked or didn’t like them. A good deal from the black domain of the wheel monsters and through some thick & dry grass, Aloe had lead his herd to a clearing in the brush. It was flat and black like the road the wheel monsters lived on, and a large, quiet, building just adjacent to it. Aloe sniffed along the edge of the tarmac, up to the building. If his hunches were correct, this was “urbex”, a name humans had for places they didn’t live in anymore. It would provide his herd with shelter and operate as a storage facility/Forward Operations Base for future incursions to procure supplies.
“We gon’ fin’ biggest nummies hewe, hewd!” Aloe declared, prancing a few steps forward. His gang were in awe.
“Awoe-smawty best smawty!”
“Owange wuv speshuw fwen’ Awoe!”
“Wook babbehs, gwow up stwong an’ smawt wike smawty Awoe!”
Yes, this would do nicely, he thought. Now came the moment of truth, getting in to the building. Aloe turned about-face and scrunched up his snout. Think man, think. Gotta get in. He had a babbling bevy of buddies that depended on him, this was not the time to flounder. An idea struck him. Aloe got on his hind hooves and held his front legs forward.
“Open sezme!”
And by jove, the large white door to the building did slide open, revealing a dark interior.
“Magic Awoe!” “Awoe wizawd!” “Teach Scwuffy magic, Awoe?”
Yes, Aloe thought, I am a good smarty, I have done well.
~
Her name was Ilene Barkley. She stood at 6’2, sporting massive blood-red hair and piercing green eyes. Below her pointed visage was a bust that could make a cow blush, a waist that put wasps to shame, and an ass so fat, your mother started crying. Her curvy figure once earned her more attention that she could ever want, but that was then, and this is now. She had her warehouse, divvied into rooms with cubicle walls she had purchased upon her honorable discharge. Normally this places were as large, open, and void-like as an aircraft storage facility, but her warehouse was quite cozy. Sitting on a soft couch, she was enjoying quality time with some strawberries and a favorite album when she heard the noise.
The unmistakable babble.
Fluffies.
She bit down on a final, juicy strawberry, her lips turning lazy and failing to keep the red juice in her mouth. It dribbled over her full lips, down her chin, and collected in her cleavage. Ilene’s eyes opened and closed independent of each other as she put together the ones and twos, dotted her “t”'s and crossed her “i”'s, slapped a foot in front of the other, formulated and postulated. She had a busy head and a job to do outside. Wonder what would be best, she thought, eyeballing the rack just before her front door.
“Door” is a creative take on what it was, as she forewent tradition in lieu of a massive sheet of metal connected to a circuit system she had rigged. College wasn’t for her, but she had cracked a small degree of electrical and mechanical engineering in her spare time. Her endless spare time. She flicked a switch on the wall and grabbed the closest tool, a two-handed axe they preserved from her village. Like the maw of some fell beast, her door began to open. She cracked her neck and strained her eyes in the oppressive light of morning, attempting to glimpse the nuisance. She blinked once, twice, finally adjusted to the sun.
~
Ah, a green boy right in front. Judging by his confident posture, he’s probably the smarty. He’ll either be the most or least fun to fuck with. How many other fluffies? Ten? Mm, not counting the foals.
One step, two step, three step forward.
Over the smarty and back to the peons.
See, you can’t just swing an oversized garden tool at fluffies and be satisfied, you need to be able to pick out the ones that aren’t worth terrorizing.
Like that orange mare was far too young to comprehend what horrors you could perform, she would’ve just screamed and cried without any possibility of you playing off her misery.
That’s why she got the first haircut, ‘just above the shoulders’.
Excellent choice babe, that was someone’s to-be mate, judging by the screams of that blue fluffy with the funny-lookin’ tail
Aww, he doesn’t seem like he’s happy with you giving his “dahwin” some lowered ears.
That’s fine, you’re not particularly happy with him runnin’ at you so fast.
Slow down Maurice, lemme axe you a question
There’s two down, and we’ve got pandemonium in The Thunderdome.
Are they all worth catching?
One tap, two tap, three taps of thinking on the pavement
Okay it’s worth it.
~
Ilene had cleaved two of the fluffies’ heads off, the rest of them scrambling for cover.
“Nu huwt Jasuhn!” “Why meanie wady huwt sissy?” “Huu huu huu Appuw scawed!”
Aloe couldn’t believe the carnage. From one member of his herd to another, the giant woman had smashed, cut, or demolished each one she got to, her giant meanie stick in hand. Luckily she hadn’t gotten to his special friend Orange, who had found somewhere to hide post-haste. Bless her.
“What was your name again, darling?” the lady asked Apple, one of Aloe’s friends and Felix’s special friend. Once-special friend, Felix was in a couple of pieces by now.
“P-p-p-pwease wed wady munstah, nu huwt babbehs”
Oh no, the red lady had some of Apple’s foals in hand.
“Darling, I’m not going to ask again,” she squeezed tightly and one of the foals’ heads popped, red boo-boo juice pouring down her hand. Apple was crying even harder now.
“NUUUU! BABBEH! HUU HUU HUU”
“Your name, please”
“APPUW! FWUFFY NAME APPUW!”
Aloe’s fluff crawled as he watched a giant, mean smile creep across the lady’s face. In a flash, she had grabbed Apple by the scruff-fluff and was shoving the poor babies down their mother’s throat.
“HOW 'BOUT THEM APPLES? BAAAAAH HEHEHEHEH!”
The lady’s laugh was loud and piercing. Even after she was done yelling Aloe could feel each note of sickened joy rake its nails across his ears. This was not a nice lady, and he was a bad smarty for letting the herd fall into her clutches. Aloe watched Apple make sorry poopies as she struggled with her babies struggling down her mouth. Her eyes were turning pink from crying, and her jaw was covered in boo-boo juice. A sick, cracking sound came from the deepest parts of Apple’s chest, signaling the end of Aloe’s friend.
~
Ilene was contented. She had done a bit of beheading, some foal-infused asphyxiation, and had broken up a few couples as well. Just one last thing to take care of.
"Alright jerkoff, " Ilene picked up the green smarty of the herd who had stayed, rather surprisingly, quiet this whole ordeal, “Where’s your mare?”. The green smarty’s face sprang into shock.
“How wady munstah know abou’ Owange?” Ilene shrugged.
“Didn’t. Thanks for the tip though. Where’s Orange?” she loved the face he made, realizing that he had spilled the beans
“W-won’ teww wady munstah” Mm. Mm. This was gonna take some theatrics. Ilene cleared her throat and tapped her foot to the tarmac a few times.
“Orange deary? You come out and I won’t hurt your special friend,” Ilene gave the green boy a few shakes so he would start whimpering again and get his mare’s attention. Didn’t take too much to break her heart and send her running into the clearing, a small parade of foals behind her, whimpering all the way.
“Nuuuuu! Speshuw fwen’! Nu huwt!” the orange mare went on and on, sprinting. Ilene lifted her foot to meet the charging fluff and held her in place, her large toe poking at one of Orange’s eyes.
“A fluff and his family, tale as old as time,” Ilene was bemused, especially watching the little foals scamper around like little ants.
“Babbeh hewp mummah! Gib huggies feew bettah!” “Mummah pwease nu cwy!”
Ah, the innocence of youth.
“You babies like your parents right?” the tykes looked up at Ilene, all of them sobbing at various degrees of woe.
“wub mummah an’ daddeh” “pweas scawy wady, yu pwetty”
Aw shucks, Ilene thought, these chumps are gonna make me blush. She dug her toe deeper into Orange’s eye, beginning to pierce her cornea with a jagged, gnawed-off toenail. Pedicures were something that civilized ladies who weren’t forcefully discharged from service got. Ilene wasn’t bitter. Not at all. The foals and the mare’s mate were positively beside themselves with hysterics once the blood began to pour.
“Why huwt mummah?” “Wook munstah am dancie-babbeh! Pwease nu huwt!”
Ilene noticed that the smarty in her hand had started trying to bite at her wrist. Figures his good nature only lasted for so long. The weak jaw and dull teeth was somewhat soothing to her sore forearm; she had a hell of a night yesterday with herself. Regardless, this would not do. Time to wrap this up.
“Alright time to wrap this up” Ilene declared, smashing her foot down and obliterating the skull of Orange. Aloe’s bites stopped and he let out a long, sorrowful wail. Somewhere between “why” and “nu”. Ilene couldn’t be bothered. She dropped the green smarty and scooped up the half-orphaned foals. One of them was pink and had quite the obnoxious voice.
“Why huwt mummah, munstah wady?”
Gadzooks, something like that would not do, Ilene surmised, rubbing the little tyke’s head between her index finger and thumb and turning it into a fine paste. She turned to the papa and waved her hand full of mostly-intact foals at him.
“WADY NO HUWTIE BABBEHS! AWOE GUD DADDEH! GUD SMAWTIE!”
Aloe scampered after Ilene who had begun to saunter back into her house, hips swaying as she began to work out the finer details of her plan with this green boy.
“Wait wady! Pwease! Dey onwy widdle babbehs!” Aloe kept pace and ran into the dark of the warehouse, unaware of the closing metal door behind him and the impending dark surrounding what remained of his family.
She had him.
~
Aloe awoke to familiar crying, his babies!
“Whewe babbehs? Daddeh hewe!” he looked right, he looked left, nothing, just dark, “huu huu, nu wike dawk, buh be bwave foh’ babbehs…”
A sudden flash of light illuminated his surroundings. Aloe was immobile, unable to look down or see the rest of his body. He was confined to a small space that, to his horror, had unpleasant guests
“Babbehs! Daddeh hewe, pwease tawkie!” Aloe strained his head forward, trying to goad his foals into saying something, anything to him. Their horrified expressions and final death grimaces were stuck on their rotting heads and stared, unblinkingly, at their woeful father. A crackle of sound cut through the silence.
“Whyyy daddeeeeh”
Aloe perked his ears “B-babbeh?”
“Daddeeeh whyyy yu nu saaaafe mummaaaahh”
Aloe was terrified, his babies had forever sleepies but were still talking?
“A-Awoe twy hewp speshuw fwen-”
“DADDEH HAAAATE BABBEHS!” “Daddeh, babbeh cowd!” “Pwease dun abandun babbehs!”
All of his children screamed in terror and pain with faces etched in mortal fear. Aloe was under siege on all fronts and couldn’t handle it. He broke down, crying, unable to answer any of his children’s requests. He would sit there for days and watch the rot spread over his family as they continued to chastise him for his inability to save them from a horrid fate.
~
Ilene lay in the sun, taking in the new summer’s day on her pale skin. She didn’t tan well but the natural warmth and light were a far cry from the artificial crap littered around her home. Terrence cawed at her from across the yard.
“Come on I know you like the little ones but I needed those Terry” Ilene called back to the vulture. He was her only friend in this life, a red-faced turkey vulture with an appetite for the victims of her rampages. Much like her, he was a massive specimen, sporting a wingspan of 6.5 feet (198cm). He swallowed up a particularly oblong corpse and flapped to his human companion, who’s arm outstretched to receive him.
Ilene scrunched up her face at her big brave boy, who in truth could only love a human as much as a vulture was capable of, which wasn’t much. He liked the way she preened and spoke to him though.
“Don’t worry Terry,” she smooched his talon, “there’ll always be more here”.
my bad!!