Part 1 here
Now that your furry little visitor resembles a naked mole rat, covered mostly in scratches from your ‘cleaning’, it’s time for more fun!
“Pwese gib fwuffy huggies, make feew bettah!” the little creature reaches up for comfort.
“Just a moment and I will give you all the hugs you want.”
You don an apron, and grab a bottle of hot sauce from the counter. Standing over the sink, you douse your hands with it generously. Bending down, you pick up the sniveling little shit and hug him tightly.
“Wike huggies, make huwties bettAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” The hugging has ground the hot sauce into his open scratches, and he writhes in your grasp. You smile, hugging him closely as he squirms.
“Oh, am I hurting you? Let me fix that!” You chuck him back into the sink, and hose him down with the faucet. Returning from the bathroom with a new razor, you towel off the little shitrat and hold him down in the sink, his tiny legs scrabbling on the slick stainless steel.
“Time to make you all pretty for my friends!” You start to shave off his remaining fur, roughly taking scrapes off of his already-battered body. The sobbing wreck of a fluffy has reverted from the shock, now chirping loudly and sucking his hoof as you finish your shaving.
‘All pretty now, aren’t you?” The fluffy says nothing, instead continuing to sob softly. Grabbing the denuded fluff, a stapler from your junk drawer, and a can of peanutbutter, you walk out into your yard. In the center of the yard is a bird-feeder, mounted several feet off the ground on a copper pole. You stretch the shivering fluffy out across the bird feeder, and position the stapler carefully. The fluffy seems to be in shock, and doesn’t react until the first staple drives home, pinning his pathetic hoof to the wood of the feeder.
“SCREEEEEEEE! WOSTEST OWWIESSSS!” he cries, whipping himself around with his remaining feet.
“You get what you fucking deserve, shitrat!”
Roughly holding down another hoof, you carefully finish stapling him to the bird feeder, staked out with staples. Then, its time for the peanut butter. Slowly and methodically, you smear the chunky sludge all over the crying fluffy, especially his tiny balls.
“Huuu huuu huuuu! Fwuffy hab biggest heawt saddies!” he wails as you finish covering his body with the condiment. Fetching a beer from the fridge, you take a seat in a deck chair and kick back to enjoy the show.
You’ve started your second beer when your first visitors arrive. First its the little birds, pecking at the peanutbutter.
“Nu! Chiwpy munstahs, nu huwt fwuffy!” the fluffy squeals, as their tiny beaks poke him. Then their bigger cousins arrive. First its one crow, and then another. They prod the fluffy, and when he squirms, they back off apprehensively. But once they figure out that he can’t move or hurt them, they begin in earnest.
“OWWIE!” the fluffy chirps as the beaks draw blood, the birds swallowing gobs of peanut butter-covered flesh. One of them finds his soft little eyeballs.
“SCREEEEEEE!”
The crow pecks them out, one at a time, savoring the tender morsels.
“SEE-PWACES HAB TEWWIBWE HUWTIES!”
The crows have finished pecking away the last of the peanutbutter, and they pause for a moment, unsure of where to continue. Then, one notices the soft pink togue lolling from the fluffy’s mouth. That doesn’t last long, the crow tearing it from him with a tug of its beak.
“SCWWEWEEEGHHHHHH”
Blood gurgles from his severed tongue. The other crows are impatient for flesh, and one manages to tear open the fluffy’s stomach, and the crows rip and tear out the fluffies guts, splattering each other in his blood.
“NUUUUHHHGGRRGLGLGLLLLL…”
His guts ripped out, and drowning in his own blood, the naked shitrat dies. You shotgun the remainder of your beer and head inside as the crows squabble over the remainder of his entrails.
This was definitely more satisfying than therapy.
