Up the road, a few miles out of town, and at the edge of the woods, there sat a small cattle ranch with a large sign reading. “Fertilizer, Lard, Leather, and Ground Round. CHEAP!” Simple but effective, the ranch owner had no shortage of customers. Though the customers did wonder how this small ranch kept stock with demand when they had so few cows.
The truth to that question was nestled behind the main building in a pen filled with Fluffalo, another species of fluffy designed it assist with the growing cost of beef. Not at all popular, their incredibly tender and fatty meat has a sweet gamey flavor and had an unpleasant scent when cooked.
“Ok Bitches! Graduation day!” The portly rancher trundled out into the field, the copious amounts of body hair escaping from the holes of his take top glistening with sweat. “Line up sluts! Time for the good byes to your BABBEHS!” He shouted last part with malicious venom, slowly the fluffy heifers gathered up, all with one or two younger fluffalo aside them.
“Get your huggies and kissy bullshit out of the way now and head inside.” He slid open the heavy door with a thud, the sound of machinery and the scent of dried blood hit the noses of the herd. With forced uneasy smiles and tear filled eyes, they hugged their offspring, told them to be happy and friendly, then marched into the building with fake joy.
Graduation day was what the rancher affectionately called the day the adult fluffalo were slaughtered and the younger were impregnated. Inside the building the adult fluffalo were processed quickly and ruthlessly. Corked and then sanitized in boiling water, they were beheaded, disemboweled, skinned, and cut up by the workers. For every 20 fluffalo butchered one cow was as well, it’s meat ground and mixed with the fluffalo. This is how the ranch can sell such large amounts for so cheap.
Outside the younger heifers were locked in place to prepare for their special hugs. “Hold the shit up!” The Rancher paused quickly counting the young fluffalo, he was missing five, quickly surveying the pen he spotted them. Three adults gathered around the corner of the fence. They had broken a slat and were pushing the last of their children through the opening.
“Be gud babbehs, hab dah biggest smiwas tu show dah humons dat am gud fwens so dey gib nu homies! The one mother quickly imparted. “An an an nebah askin fo tings, onwy smiwa an waitin!” The other sobbed to them, the third quickly spun around and charged at the approaching Rancher. " Weabe babbehs awone! Gib ou wowstest huwties!”
The Rancher swung his foot forward connecting with the skull of the attacking fluffalo sending her flying backwards into the other two. All they could do was scream and beg as he came up to the fence. Five young fluffalo gazed in terror as the Rancher towered over them behind the fence.
“Wun Babbehs! Wun!” One of the mothers screeched as the Rancher hoisted his corpulent body over to the other side. " Moomah!? Moomah am huwties!?" “Moosta please babbehs nee to gib moomah huggies!” Three of the five young fluffalo had already bolted these two remained in attempt to sooth their injured mother.
They were both quickly thrown back into the pen with panicked screams with the Rancher quickly after the others. To the outside observer this would be a rather comedic scene, a portly man bounding after a group of tiny cows doing their best to waddle away.
It wasn’t long before two of the fluffalo were overtaken, they had slowed down to nurse their pained leggies. The last fluffalo ran and ran, hearing the Rancher shout expletives after her. Deeper she went into the woods, as far as her little legs could take her eventually she collapsed next to a calm stream.
She sat thinking, she really wanted to cry but her whole short life the herd was taught that if you didn’t smile and be happy bad things would happen. So she continued to sit consumed with conflicting emotions. “Hewwo!” A cherry voice broke her from thought. It was a fluffy, a plain earthy fluffy, they stared at her wagging their tail.
“Am Sissy, wat am ou namesie?!” She plopped down in front of the fluffalo smiling. The question of name took them by surprise, There hasn’t been anything at all. The rancher referred to them other than meat products or various vulgar terms for females or their genitals. “Uhhhh…” She paused “Gwound Wound!” Far from perfect but much better the meat curtain.
“Gwound Wound? Wike Baww!! Dat am gud namesie!” Sissy’s joyous outburst filled Ground Round’s heart with warmth. “Am Gwound Wound awone? Du ou hab hewd?” These questions however sapped the feeling right out of the young fluffalo. She bit her lip and forced a smile as her eyes watered. “Nu, “sniff” am am aww awone.”
Sissy frowned, pulling herself closer to Ground Round she hugged her tight. The fluffalo couldn’t take it, in a burst of sobbing screams she buried her face into Sissy’s neck fluff. “Der der, it am aww otay. Make aww dah sad wawas ou nee tu.” She hugged tighter.
“Sissy!! Am ou otay!? Chip heaw munstah!” A stout unicorn with a broken horn came bounding up the stream. " It am otay bwuddah Chip. Dis am Gwound Wound, an dey am nyu hewd fwiend."
