Ducky was doing his usual thing during this time of the day: Playing around in his safe room! This stallion was colored like a mallard: Brown body, green mane and tail, a white band of soft fluffy round his neck.
Today was no different than any other. Daddy was gone off to work where he’d be most of the day but he’d given him cuddles before leaving and a hardboiled egg. Ducky bet he could eat a whole bucket of eggs but that was neither here nor there.
Currently, he was playing with his dolls. He had a Bratz doll and a Monster High one because daddeh got all his toys from the thrift store.
“Hewwo, am in pwetty cwub.” He said, propping up the Bratz figure and waggling it around. The Monster High figure was leaning up against his toy chest.
“Am in pwetty cwub tu!” The stallion chirruped out, speaking for the doll. It’s not like he knew the stories of either of these figures and just had to make do with his own imagination. Carefully setting the Bratz up near it’s counterpart, Ducky up on his hindlegs and did a cool little dancie.
“An’ Duckeh am in pwetty cwub! Teehee! Am pwetty boy!” He said, imagining the dolls were cheering for how cool he was. Something distracted him though. It was the teebee!
FluffTV of course blared from his little CRTV all day. Currently playing on it was a commercial for diapers. He stuck his tongue out.
“Dipeys am ‘fo babbehs! Duckeh nu am babbeh!” He boasted loudly at the teebee, watching as the various fluffies extolled how much they loved being in their dipey. Well, unfortunately for Ducky? Hasbio was an evil corporation. They absolutely loved money. Even though he was proudly fully potty trained, Hasbio had tailored the commercial to be subliminal. Well, it wasn’t even subtle. Production had slipped in a sound only fluffies could hear that would trigger their bowels. Would it affect all fluffies? No, it wouldn’t. More than a few would just feel a griping pain in their bowels before scurrying off to the litterbox.
Ducky wasn’t so fortunate. Eyes crossing, felt a sudden lurch in his stomach. Groaning, it like his poopie pwace exploded right off his body. There was a loud ripping noise as his anus expelled shit out with such force that it splattered all over the back wall and even up to the ceiling and a stink curled around him.
Shaking in place, he didn’t want to turn around. Maybe if he didn’t, it wouldn’t be real. Slowly, though, Ducky turned slightly to confirm what had indeed happened. There were poopies everywhere where his butt had been pointing.
“N-Nuuu…” He whimpered, looking to his poopie pwace. Why had it betrayed him.
“Wry meanies tu fwuffy, poopie pwace? Fwuffy wub yew.” The poor stallion lamented. His ass responded with a pitiful winding fart.
+++++++
Many things crossed through Ducky’s mind. Could he clean the poopies? Looking around for anything that could help in this task, he grabbed up his favorite blankie. Soft, plush, with firetrucks and police cars on it. Dragging it over to the wall, he wiped it around and only managed to ruin his blankie and further smear it around.
Tears brimmed at his eyes and he was beginning to breathe quickly, tiny heart beating in his chest. Daddeh loved him but also said ‘No bad poopies!’. Scenarios began playing through his mind.
Daddeh would come home and spank his butt so hard. If he was LUCKY, it wouldn’t just fall off. “Fwuffy butt hurtd.” He said as if the vision was already causing a phantom pain to arise.
What else could happen? Well daddeh could be so heartbroken that he’d just drop down to the ground and go fowebbah sweepies on the spot. He’d be hurt because of his bad fluffy’s poopie pwace. Then the nice powice men would haul him in and ask him lots of questions and put him in the sorry box fowebbah.
Sniffling a bit, he tried to think of any way to solve this. It was so bad and daddeh was so good. Looking to his collection of dolls, he went and selected a beat-up, chipped Buzz Lightyear figure. It’s wings would flip out and blink softly as he carried it over to the wall. Positioning the toy so that it’s bottom faced the crime scene, it looked almost as if he could be responsible for this.
“To infinity and beyond!” His toy loudly proclaimed. Ducky felt his heart sink even further into oblivion. He loved Buzz suuu much! Buzz was his very good friend and had lots of fun playtimes with him. Turning his back to the toy, he wept and stamped his hooves on the carpet. Fought with himself internally. No…no!
“SOWWY BUZZ!” Turning around abruptly, Ducky scooped the toy up from the floor and gave him huggies. It wasn’t Buzz who made that big mess. It was him. He was the bad boy.
+++++
Ducky didn’t really know when daddeh would get home. Time was, of course, a concept most foreign to fluffies except in the general sense. At first he tried to watch teebee, that very thing which got him into this situation to begin with.
Cinnamummah was on. Like usual she was there teaching her babbehs the importance of being good. Most of the time this had to do basic lessons such as sharing, and of course, using the potty properly.
“Good fwuffies use da wittabox ebbytime!” She told her cheering foals as she demonstrated how to do it.
That’s right. Good fluffies used the litterbox. He was no longer good. Daddeh would no longer love him, he’d tried to blame it on one of his bestest fwends, and there was no chance in this world for a bad boy like him.
Another vision surface in his think pwace. Daddeh coming home and crying so much about what he’d done that he shriveled up like an old nut and turned to dust.
Ears drooping down, Ducky knew what he needed to do. Going over to an arts and crafts table where he made all his pwetty pitchews and hoofsie paintin, he got a thick piece of construction paper out and carefully began to draw on it. A big brown blotch on one side of the paper, a small brown and green blotch with a frowny face. His admission of guilt. So that none of his toy friends would take any of the blame.
Clumsily pinning the confession to his collar, he turned to the window in the room. This wasn’t exactly a safe room: His window had blinds with incredibly dangerous pullcords on it. He knew it was dangerous because fwuffteebee said so. It was ‘meanie sketties’ and would give you fowebbah sweepies. Daddeh didn’t know but he did.
Looking out to his toys, he blinked away tears. “Duckeh sowwy, fwends. Dun wan daddeh tu be huwties. Am weabin’ naow. Wub yew. Pwease teww daddeh Duckeh wub.”
With that, he trotted up to the drawcords for the blinds. Began playing with them, chomping or pulling on them. At first he wasn’t really sure how this was scary. In fact, it was kind of fun! It was while he was lost in that fun and forgetting for a moment what was happening when it became apparent.
One of the cords had wrapped around his little neck, the hard plastic fob at the end digging into his flesh. Back hooves scrabbling, he tried to free himself. Having forgotten what he was doing in the first place.
“S-Scawies! Nuuhuuu!” He gasped out, useless flailing of his hooves against cord doing nothing much more than tightening it even further around his throat. These actions caused him to get hopelessly ensnared, and he could only feel breath coming out instead of in. While his eyes were bulging out and his lungs burned for oxygen, his focus settled on the shit covering the wall.
No more fighting. Instead Ducky gave one last wheezing choke, kicked slightly, piddled on the floor.
