“Oh. Not this shit again.” Ken had walked out of his apartment to find two fluffies fucking on the hood of his car. For the third time this week. How’d they even get up there? Why his car of all things? “Hey, come on.” Getting closer to them, the stallion would look over to him and smirk. “Am haf bigges’ enfies on vroomy.” He went back to fucking, grunting and looking pleased with itself.
This was Hell on Earth. Ever since the mayor had passed some insane new bill guaranteeing fluffies what basically equated to human rights. Hell, at this point they likely had more rights than him. They flooded every street. You couldn’t take two steps here or there without stepping into a pile of shit or having some smartass threatening you. He took a deep breath. “GET OFF MY FUCKIN’ CAR YOU GODDAMN SHITRATS!” The irritated man pointed away from the car, the stallion stopping mid-coitus to break away from the mare. Ah no. Ken knew he was really in for it now.
“Tewwin! Tewwin on bad man!” Hopping down from the car and screeching down the street, Ken just stood there and waited for the inevitable. You would think with all the tax dollars going toward programs for these useless thing that law enforcement would be down big time. Quite the opposite. They’d actually expanded upon it by…well, you’d get to see the result.
Trotting up to Ken was a blue and red fluffy dressed in a police uniform complete with a teensy cap and a toolbelt. It looked up to him.
“Hewwo! Am Officeh Fwendwy! Pwease teww gud officeh wry meanie say meanie fing?” The stallion who had tattled on him was directly behind ‘Officer Friendly’, pointing a hoof out at him to indicate that he was in fact the guy who had decided to stand up for his property rights.
“Listen.” Ken started, never feeling less ridiculous of having to explain a goddamn thing to them. “These two were fucking on top of my car! I have to get to fuckin’ work!”
Officer Friendly stuck out the tip of his tongue as if deep in thought for a moment. “Speciaw huggies am wite ob fwuffy! Meanie man hab buwny-spway!” The fluffy fumbled at it’s little toolbelt and managed to retrieve a canister of mace. By some miracle it actually got a jet of the stuff into Ken’s eyes instead of directly in it’s own face. Ken screamed, flailed around, dropping to the ground. The officer walked up and snagged his keyring away. “Meanie man am hab vroomy timeout. Sowwy, teehee!” Prancing away with his keys in it’s mouth, he knew at the very least he should be able to go down to the local PD and collect them later.
After trying to cleanse his eyes of the mace, Ken had a lot of time to think about what had led them to this. That goddamn mayor. All she’d said while being voted in was that she’d make public transit more affordable for everyone. How in the Hell did it transform into this? How could a mayor even have such power!? You would think the governor would send in the national guard. Even the president had to have some vested interested in what happened in such a large city. Nope, things had continued sliding downhill. The abusers were right the entire time: Hugboxers would destroy life as everyone knew it if they had their way.
Something stepped out in front of him. A pink fluffy wearing a purple feather boa around it’s neck. It had multiple patches of fur missing, stank like piss, and had a rattling cough.
“Hewwo big stwong mistah daddeh, wan mouf-enfies ‘fo skettis? Bestest mouf-enfies.” It coughed until it spat up a splotch of phlegm onto his shoe. “Hab bestest babbehs tu make miwkies ‘fo.”
The man simply walked away. He’d just tried to fight a battle and lost anyways. He just wanted to get to work, that was it. This was too much for one man to take.
On the way to the office he watched as a group of fluffies burst out from an obviously looted Fluffmart. The stores had been reduced to selling only items for their care instead of pets, and they were raided pretty much on a daily basis by raving gangs of the assholes who never got touched by the police. Whatever, not his problem.
Upon reaching his office, he would clock-in and begin to work. Whatever office work entails, I guess typing away at a computer and talking about Mondays or something. Every time he got up to get a cup of coffee he had to duck his head down low.
The reason why he wanted to keep a low profile was one of the supervisors. You see, the company had hired fluffies as part of a city-wide priority that seemed incentivized by the government. A particular supervisor wanted his ass, and oh hey there he was. A brown and green alicorn, tiny wings aflutter in apparent anger over some transgression.
“Hewwo mistah dummeh, dese wepoots su stoopi’!” The stallion puffed out his cheeks in rage.
“Sorry, Mr. Mossman.” Ken offered up, knowing the fluffy couldn’t read, would never read, and didn’t understand a goddamn thing. What reports? Who knew.
“Yew beddah impwove! SOWWY POOPIES FOR DUMMEH!” Just like most days, his workspace was covered in a blanket of shit sprayed out from the ass of his supervisor. Ken sighed, getting out the cleaning bucket. What had he done to Mossman? He couldn’t remember.
It was just another day to ride out. He couldn’t wait for his lease to end. Until then he had to be in Hell.