Travis bursts through his front door, muffled cries seeping out from his backpack as he rushes down the hall toward a room with a bright yellow door. He swings the door open, flipping the light switch on revealing a green carpeted room with baby blue painted walls. In the corner sits a small red litterbox. In another sits a foam filled pet bed surrounded by a few old blankets and an old stuffed bear missing an ear. A few small wooden blocks with the edges and corners sanded off litter the floor along with a few small rubber balls and assorted simple baby toys. The blue walls were devoid of windows. Instead, a beautifully detailed painting of an open window leading to a bright sunny field heading into a breathtaking sunrise in the distance.
Travis doesn’t waste any time as he rips his bag open. He rips the towel wad from within, the mare’s cries of fear and the smell of putrid fluffy shit filling the walls of the small room as Travis feels around the wad for the front of the mare. He feels around a bit before his fingers hit a small pointed lump under the fabric, taking a quick mental note that the mare has a horn as he turns the mare away from him to face the wall.
The mare’s screams of despair slowly devolve into a series of pathetic whimpers and peeps as Travis walks toward the litterbox in the corner. His face remains expressionless as he quickly unwraps the back of the pregnant mare first, making sure to keep as much of the mess in the litter box as possible. He lowers her down into the litterbox ass first as her tiny stubby hooves uselessly flail around her beach-ball sized body.
Before unwrapping her head however, Travis quickly delivers a quick FLICK with his middle finger straight to the back of the mare’s towel wrapped head. Her panicked flailing and muffled chirps cease as she falls unconscious. Travis simply nods his head before unwrapping the mares head, pulling a small purple collar from his pocket and clipping it around her neck before carefully letting her head flop into the waiting litter below.
He takes a moment to make sure she’s still breathing, nodding again to himself in confirmation before walking back toward the bright yellow door. He opens the door slowly and slips out of the room, flipping the light switch off before quietly latching the door shut behind him. As he hears the door click shut behind him, a small grin slowly begins to creep across Travis’s face. Small at first, but soon grow to stretch all the way from cheek to cheek. He couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t believe he was finally going to use this old room again.
Travis takes some time to jump in the shower to warm and clean himself up while he waited for his heater to kick on. What he didn’t realize was exact scale of what he had discovered. He thought back to exactly what had happened the last two years leading up to this exact moment.
10 years ago, a massive lawsuit was filed against the massive multi-million dollar genetics research corporation “Hasbio”. Piggybacking off of the popularity of a famous cartoon at the time, this mega-corp was singlehandedly responsible for the creation, mass production, and nation-wide distribution of a new “bio-toy” they had developed that they called “Fluffy Ponies.”
Due to an eco-terrorist attack on one of Hasbio’s largest production facilities, an undisclosed amount of fluffy ponies escaped into the surrounding states. These “bio-toys” would soon go on to destroy neighborhoods, decimate crops and livestock, pollute city streets, and nearly cause the country to collapse into economic ruin.
Fast forward 1 year after the initial fluffy outbreak.
41 states have passed bills labeling any fluffy not registered as a pet as “pests”, allowing for the extermination of strays by any means necessary through any local pest-control company. With the number of fluffy strays and the problems they bring on the rise, it was only a matter of time before the remaining states voted it into a law nation-wide.
Fast forward 1 year.
All remaining states vote the “Bio-Product extermination bill” into effect. The entire country now allows for the extermination of any stray fluffy ponies on sight by any individual by any means necessary.
Fast forward 1 year.
Hatred of fluffy ponies has become common-place in normal society. People don’t even notice when someone is killing one of these creatures in their yards, on the streets, or between the many city sidewalks and building ally ways around the country. Thousands of internet challenges featuring people hunting down, finding, and “exterminating” fluffys go viral, spreading across the nation like wild fire.
Fast forward another year.
The nation’s extermination bill is in full effect. The population of stray fluffy ponys, and their related problems, have been cut by nearly 75 percent. The country and it’s economy are slowly rebuilding. Jobs are returning to the public, and new forms of energy are being discovered by researching and recycling the exterminated “bio-product”. Hasbio is now heading this new branch of research, slowly re-building it’s reputation in the public eye.
Fast forward another year.
Public belief is that the only remaining fluffy ponys are those registered as pets or the few strays who manage to survive hidden in cities and out in wilderness areas. Strays soon become less common than your average cat or dog, leading to the creation of black-market breeding for rare color combinations and breeds.
Fast forward to 6 years after the initial fluffy outbreak.
Hasbio begins releasing fluffy extermination products for at home use by the public, and new laws pass allowing for the private breeding and selling of registered fluffy ponies by licensed individuals, giving rise to a slowly growing number of new business’s known as “Fluff Shops” and “Fluffy Shelters”. More and more rare colored fluffys are being brought to the attention of the public eye, creating a growing demand for custom colored fluffys. Certain color and breed combinations are treated like rare collectors items, causing the black-market fluffy breeders to nearly double over the course of the next 2 years.
8 years after initial outbreak.
In an attempt to crack down on illegal fluffy mills, a new law has passed for the unlicensed breeding of registered fluffy ponies and the public sale of any offspring created from such. Certain mutations in fluffys are creating even more rare color and breed combinations, causing certain lucky individuals to become millionaires simply by selling one special looking foal. It seemed as though the color combinations and cosmetic mutations were endless, allowing for an extensive fluffy trade market to develop. Black market breeders are slowly erased, but a few still remain dotted across the country.
Fast forward another year.
Hasbio is now a household name. They’ve become a corporate giant. A titan among the money spending world. You can’t walk 10 feet up the street without seeing their name or something related to it. Fluffy ponys have faded to mediocrity, being treated simply as any everyday creature. No laws are passed to remove their extermination order, leading the creation of “Fluffy Stress Relief” clinics and “Fluffy Hospitals”. The need for domestic fluffy vets is slowly growing as more and more people begin to adopt fluffys as pets once again.
Fast forward to today.
Travis stares at his cleaned up face in the mirror. He carefully adjusts the clean-cut part in his fresh combed hair before adjusting the yellow and brown plaid sweater vest sitting neatly over a freshly ironed white button-up shirt. This shirt is neatly tucked into his freshly ironed khaki slacks, with a fresh pair of clean white socks to cover his feet. He steps away from the mirror for one final check of his entire person. He looked perfect. Hell, Mr. Rodgers himself would be proud.
Travis closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in before slowly letting it all back out. He feels into his pockets, double checking that he everything he needed before walking out of the bathroom. He looks down the hall at the bright yellow door, the sound of quite “huuing” and whimpering alerting Travis that the mare had finally woken up. He grins to himself, flicking the bathroom light off behind him.