“Sir, are we really going through with this?” Samuel was worried. He had known about the so called “Second Generation” for the last few years, but he had expected the higher ups to shut it down at any moment. Geoffery smiled at the man from across his heavy mahogany desk. “Why wouldn’t we? Even after all the bad press, people just can’t get enough of fluffies. Hell, FluffMart profits are up twenty percent in the last year alone.”
“To be fair sir, why would anyone buy a fluffy when they can pick one off the street for free?” Geoffery scoffed. “Sure, they’re fucking streetrats now, but the Second generation is different.” Samuel sighed. “Look, I get we are going to market them as luxury pets, but a fluffy is a fluffy.” Geoffery stood up, throwing an arm over Samuel’s shoulder. “Walk with me.” The two walked for a few minutes, down an elevator and through some halls, arriving at the lab where Doctor Richardson, the department head, was tending to the second generation.
The doctor turned to face the two men. “Ah, Mr. Gardner, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Geoffery smiled at her. “Samuel here doesn’t see the point of the second generation project, I was hoping you would take some time to show him the improvements we’ve made.” A twinge of anger flashed over the young doctors face that was quickly replaced by a smile that had been polished by years of customer service work. “Absolutely. Let me give him a run through.”
The three walked through the airlock that lead to the laboratory, presenting their clearance cards to the heavily armed mercenaries hired after the PETA incident. Upon reaching the main holding pens, they were greeted by the cheerful babble of fluffies. Passing by one of the clear acrylic pens, Samuel took his first real look at the so called second generation as Dr. Richardson began her spiel.
“Our first order of business was to deal with the behavioral issues. The second generation comes fully house trained, along with being incredibly tolerant of other fluffies, we added a whole host of new words to the ingrained no no words, including a host of Spanish words.” She turned to a mint green pegasus playing with a ball. “Observe.” Leaning down, she spoke to him in a friendly tone. “How are you doing today Two-fourteen?” The fluffy turned excitedly to face her. “Two-fouwteen am gud! Wuv new baww and bwock-” Dr. Richardson interrupted him in the same friendly tone. “Pedacito de mierda.”
The fluffy flinched as if she had slapped him. “Nu use no no wowds!” The doctor smiled, slipping him a treat. “That’s right, good boy.” Straightening back up, she smoothed her lab coat. “We also managed to correct the issues regarding racism and child favoritism, as well as the ‘bad special huggies’ issue.”
“We also have managed to fix the overwhelming carnal desires the stallions go through upon reaching adolescence.” Samuel was beginning to notice the pattern. “And what about the issues from a biological standpoint?” Both Geoffery and Dr. Richardson froze. “What issues do you mean?”
“Well for one thing, the horribly ineffective digestive system, as well as the incredibly foul shit they produce.” Dr. Richardson forced a smile. “Well, if we were to make the digestive systems more efficient, the fluffies would be much more susceptible to obesity.” Samuel didn’t buy it, but moved on. “The glass bones?” Geoffery shuffled nervously as Dr. Richardson smiled again. “Due to the poor digestive system, they will always have difficulties processing and obtaining calcium.”
Samuel nodded incredulously. “What about sorry poopies?”
“Its so deeply tangled in the genetic code we cant isolate it without permanently altering the body.”
“What about the crotch-tits?”
“Online research found them to be the least grotesque out of our available options.”
“Fear of alicorns?”
“We haven’t quite nailed down the cause of that yet.”
“You mentioned fixing the stallions urges, what about the mares “baby fever?”
Geoffery smiled and stepped in. “I can answer that. I made the executive decision to keep that in.” Sam was dumbstruck. “Why?”
“Tell me Sam, what are the ways you stop a mare from asking for babies?” Sam pondered for a bit. “you let them have them?” Geoffery smiled a big, toothy grin. “But they all come spayed so there’s no way to let them have them that way. What else?” Sam could tell where he was being led. “You buy them a foal?” Geoffery’s smile grew even larger. “Exactly. And who would risk picking one off the street when they are believed to be evil, murderous rapists?” It seemed reasonable. But then it hit Samuel like a freight train. “What do you mean believed to be?”
Both Dr. Richardson and Geoffery looked like fluffies caught in headlights. Geoffery quickly grabbed the two by their shoulders and quickly lead them to Dr. Richardson’s office. Locking the door, he sat down on the plush leather couch as Dr. Richardson sat at desk. “What I am about to tell you cant leave this office Sammy.”
“Fluffies are, by nature, incapable of truly malicious acts.” Sam was confused. “What does that mean?” Geoffery sighed heavily. “Fluffies will not rape or murder anything intentionally. At least, not willingly.” Geoffery stood up and began to pace the spacious office. “The problem is fluffies are, by nature, incredibly easy to influence. One thing that we did find to be true is the child favoritism, at least in some areas. Apparently they believe that prospective humans hate brown colored foals, and that brown fluffies are completely unadoptable. Like, they are physically incapable of being adopted. But the discrimination is easily rectified by a simple lecture.”
Samuel was stunned. “What about the rapes?” Geoffery laughed harshly. “Some crones precious little designer fluffy runs into a dirty feral at the park, the two get it on, crone sees it, BOOM its a rape case. Cause her precious little Fifi wouldn’t have DARED ask for a special huggies with a stray of all things!”
Geoffery sat back down on the couch, lighting a cigar. “When the first fluffies came out of the woods and into the city, our expected losses from this project was, without a doubt, going to put us out of buisness.” He took a drag from the cigar. “But then!” Geoffery sat up, gesturing with the cigar. “I had an idea. We weren’t going to make any money from the sales of fluffies, but there was nothing that said we couldn’t upcharge the hell out of fluffy paraphenalia!” Another drag on his cigar. “So I took the remaining funds and opened the first FluffMart.” Geoffery smiled “And I saved the company. Sure it was hard going at first, but as the fluff craze took over we recovered almost twice the amount we lost by selling re-labeled dog products.”
Geoffery reached over, stubbing out his massive cigar among the small pile of cigarettes in the ashtray.
“But I have always had one great desire. One dream that I thought would forever elude me.” Samuel waited for a few seconds before sighing and playing along. “Which is what sir?” Geoffery looked off in the distance. “The opportunity to sell fluffies as we intended, as high class, luxury pets. But the chances of that were slim.”
A smile crept over the mans face. “At least until the court case started. That’s when I got a chance.” Samuel was confused yet again. “How was the court case a chance?” Geoffery smiled even wider. “First, we removed their legal protection from cruelty. After that, it was simple enough to grease a couple reporters palms to slander the hell out of them. Took only fifty thousand to get the Times to run that Fluffed Menace story.”
“After that, we began to talk about how the fluffies were ‘incomplete.’ Course they weren’t, PETA caused the breach just before we began publicly selling the things, but people ate that shit up.” Geoffery sat up, his smile wider than ever. “Wanna know a secret? Dr. Richardson isn’t even a geneticist.” Samuel was confused again. “What?”
“I am a double major. Child psychology and animal behaviorist. The second generation is genetically identical to the rest of the shit rats, but I run them through an obedience school.” Dr. Richardson chimed out from behind her computer monitor. “While technically we could do some more genetic finagling, why would we? The current iteration is good enough.”
Samuel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So we’re just selling the same fluffies that are begging on every street corner, except we cut their junk off and ran them through obedience school?” The room was silent for a moment. “We also added some new colors, like pastel and striped.”
Geoffery stood up and began to lead Samuel out. “Thanks for your time Doc. I’m going to have a heart to heart with Sam.” Dr. Richardson smiled as they walked out, rolling her eyes and sighing as soon as Geoffery’s back was turned. The two walked out the airlock, nodding at the surly guards as they passed.
“Look Sam, this is a great chance. This is finally a way we can set things right. If we play our cards right we can dominate the market, just like we were always meant to!” Geoffery’s voice was full of hope. Samuel was unconvinced.
“Look, I get where you’re coming from sir, I really do. But there is one critical mistake you’ve made, and if you’ll forgive my French, you are placing trust in fluffies not to fuck up. And if theres one thing I have learned in my years at Hasbio…” Samuel turned to face his boss.
“Fluffies will ALWAYS fuck up.”