This is a series devised by Nepharas on Discord and given to me to work on as I see fit. This is a quick prologue to introduce the series and the characters, I’ll work on this on and off, probably doing a bunch of small arcs and one-offs when I get the opportunity.
This is gonna be a little more out there than my usual works, but I’m happy to step outside my comfort zone for a change.
The Fluff in Gold fled across the wasteland, and the Madman followed.
It has been… an age since the bombs fell. There are few left alive who can remember what life was like before the world died, fewer still who actually lived through it. With mass communication all but dissolved, any news we receive is nothing but rumours and folklore, even trying to work out who fired the first nuke is nigh-on impossible, I’ve heard people from all over blame America, blame China, blame Russia, I heard one guy blame Amazon. Com, personally I believe his theory the most.
Those who survived the nuclear fire were met with a hostile world, both in nature, and in society. The lawlessness birthed chaos, might is right set the stage in a world dictated by strength and ruled by hunger. Whoever had the strongest tribe got the most food, whoever had the most food attracted the best warriors, whoever had the best warriors had the strongest tribes.
In the space of a few years, maybe even a few decades, tales of bloodthirsty tribes, opportunistic bandits and cruel monsters became commonplace. I can’t remember the last time I met someone who wasn’t trying to kill me, I feel like the only sane one left in this world. But am I really sane, or have I gone crazier than everyo…
“LADDIE!? Are ya fookin monologuing again?”
I broke out of my stupor, almost forgetting my company. “I’m not monologuing Angus, I’m dictating, people need to know what happened here.”
“They can fookin tell whit happened, bunch-a-bastards blew themselves tae fook. Noo come on, we’re late fir lunch.”
Angus grinned his Mad Bastard grin at me, shook his crossbow and ran off across the wastes, I watched him for a moment, trying to remember why I was even with him, before I took off after him.
Angus was an anomaly, even in this broken world. He was your stereotypical Scotsmans, 7ft tall, shoulders the width of a 4X4, biceps like tree trunks, with long, scraggly hair and a big bushy beard, both are bright orange as whatever Hellpit he climbed out of. I couldn’t remember where we were, but I knew we were a long, long way from Scotland.
Not that that mattered to Angus, little of anything did, even when I never told him my real name he just started calling me ‘Laddie’ and after several trips together that just sort of stuck. No, nothing really mattered to Angus except for his quest.
The quest for The Golden Fluffy.
Despite everything, Fluffies were still in abundance, they fought against nuclear Armageddon, against desolate wastes and against a starving human populace who realised that the fatty sweet-meats on a Fluffy would provide an adult with enough nutrients to survive at least one more day, two if they rationed the body properly.
In many ways, Fluffies were responsible for humanity not falling into cannibalism.
And yet, despite all that, they were still in plenty supply, not as commonplace as the old days where you could trip over one if you weren’t looking properly, but still enough where they were no longer a rare sight. It was likely that their high breeding rate had kept the species going, as well as a few communities actually utilising Fluffies for their own personal meat-farm, ensuring a safe haven until some escape into the wilds to either join or form a new herd.
Stories of Smarty Herds were as frequent as stories about Bandit Tribes, someone always had a tale to tell of some blowhard knocking on the front door demanding food and it would often take a moment to know if they were talking about humans or Fluffies. But the story Angus took to heart was that of The Golden Fluffy, foretold to be a failed final experiment from Hasbio before the bombs dropped, The Golden Fluffy was prototype commissioned by The FluffiesAreFood Conglomerate to create a Fluffy… that tasted like BBQ Chicken Wings.
And no, I am not shitting you.
As soon as Angus heard that story, he instantly made it his goal to find that Fluffy and eat it. With nothing but the vague direction of ‘North?’ to go on, he set us off in search of the creature. I don’t know why he’s so obsessed with such a thing, I don’t know what he plans to do with it once he gets it, more to the point, I don’t know what he’ll do after he captures it, if it’s even there to capture at all.
Maybe my curiosity is what keeps me with Angus after all this time.
I follow Angus into the blackened remains of a forest, nothing but dead trees in all directions, nothing but black and grey… except for the spot of colour that Angus spots.
“Hush yer yapping Laddie, ye see them aye?”
I nodded, not wanting to risk my voice scaring them off. Angus grinned at me again, and tiptoed into the trees.
Because of their insistence of bright coloured foals and shining coats, Fluffies were absolute dogshit when it came to camouflage, although many of them had evolved to learn that covering their eyes to not see the monster did not mean that the monster stopped seeing them. The herd Angus and I had come across was small, no more than 10 Fluffies, not even worth the effort to kill them.
But Angus wasn’t looking to kill, them he was looking for information.
Now, Fluffies still had an innate loyalty to humans, parts of their bio-code that couldn’t be overwritten, but circumstances had taught them to be wary, I suppose generations of slaughter would eventually do that, and as such a lot of ferals would hide until they knew a human to be safe. Angus’ trick around that was… morbid to say the least.
The Mad Bastard wore a kilt made in a patchwork of Fluffies coats, the whole ensemble as loud and as ostentatious as the man himself, bright yellows and pinks and greens and reds all covered the man in an outfit making far too much noise to be any good at stealth. It would’ve been the oddest part of Angus’s outfit if not for the plastic wolverine claws he stole from a Mall – apparently they work but I’ve yet to see it. The whole outfit is, frankly, fucking ridiculous, but it served a purpose, you see Angus had discovered that Fluffies can tell Fluffies apart from other animals because of their Fluff, only that Fluff didn’t need to be connected to a Fluffy for them to recognise it. So while I saw a patchwork of insanity, the herd saw…
“Nyu fwiends?”
Excited by the prospect of finally meeting new Fluffies, the herd waddled over to Angus, finding confusion at the human man in front of them, but still happy to meet the new Fluffies, wherever they were.
“Hewwo?” One of the stallions, a bright blue unicorn, stepped forward. Likely the Smarty. “Am nice mistah nyu Fwuffy fwiend?”
“Aye, ye could say that. I’m hoping wan o’ya bonny wee buggers can help me cause Ma heid’s fookin mince looking fir a wee fella like yas.”
“…Wha?”
“D’any a yoose ken a Fluffy wae a golden coat, smells like a fookin Barbecue?”
“Wha am bah-bee-que?”
“Och away, firgit the barbeque, any Fluffies wae golden Fluff here?”
The blue unicorn looked around his herd, all of the as confused as he was. “Nu see Gowd Fwuffy nice mistah.”
“Bah, bunch a fookin eejits, dinnae ken whit Am daein wae these bairns. Fook it, any a yoose want a shot at flying.”
There was a gasp and three Pegasus’s stepped forward. “Fwuffy wan fwy, Fwuffy hab wingies.”
Angus looked down and picked up an orange Pegasus, a mare by the looks of her swollen teats.”
“Heheh, soon mummah gun fwy, teech babbehs tu fwy tuu.”
“Aye, ye’ll be teaching the lot a them real fooking soon. Now just hald on while Ah get this shite sorted.”
I watched as Angus loaded the pregnant mare into his crossbow, I knew exactly where this was going, so I took a few steps out of the splash-zone.
“Soon-mummah nu am suwe bout dis, weggies hab huwties.”
“Och dinnae fret lassie. Ah’ll be fine.”
And with that, he pulled the trigger, and to his credit the mare did fly… for about 4 seconds before she collided with a tree.
Her weak little body disintegrated on impact, blood and shit and tiny foetuses flew off in all directions as the mare was literally pancaked against the hard wood of the tree trunk. In an instant the other Fluffies started running about and shitting in a panic, all except the Blue Smarty, staring dumbstruck at the blood smear on the tree.
“Spe… speciaw-fwiend? Babbehs?”
The Smarty paid no attention as Angus put on his plastic wolverine claws and just went buck-fuckin-wild on the herd. I wouldn’t have believed it myself but someone those shitty sticks of plastic were actually stabbing through the Fluffies, piercing their fat little bodies like paper.
Either the claws were a lot stronger than I realised, or Fluffies were a lot weaker.
Angus slaughtered about four other Fluffies, cackling away as he did, blood and viscera staining his patchwork kilt. The survivors escapes into the trees, easy enough to follow but not worth the hassle. Eventually only the Smarty was left, still staring at the smear of his mate and unborn young.
Angus knelt down and stroked the stallion, staining his blue Fluff with the blood of his friends.
“Dinnae fret wee-yin, Ah’ve had a bastard o-ah time hunting doon this wee Goldy cunt and Ah wis pure scunnered that ya didnae ken him, yees were just unlucky tae git in ma way. Still, yer still breathing, that’s a braw wee thing tae remember.”
Angus laughed and patted the Smarty on the back, Smarty said nothing, but his eye was twitching, still staring at the blood stain. I couldn’t say for certain, but I was sure he was hitting the Wan-Die loop.
Angus walked over to me, grinning away.
“You done yet?”
“Och Ah wis just havin a bonny wee time wae the wee fookers, let aff a little steam.”
“Yes well I’m sure this waste of our time was valuable all round.”
“Away wae that pish Laddie, Ah’ve got us meat fir lunch an some braw new firs fir ma kilt.”
“Yes, well, maybe some of us are getting tired of Fluffy Lunches and new kilts. You know what, forget it, I’m going to follow the stragglers, see if I can catch up to them. No point letting good meat go to waste.”
“Aye, Ah’ll be here when yer ready tae head.”
I nodded and left Angus as he started gathering the corpses for dressing. I quickly found the trial of piss and shit and followed out deeper into the woods, I wasn’t really looking for the Fluffies, and I think Angus knew that, it was just that after weeks, if not months of searching, we were still no closer to finding this fabled Golden Fluffy and I was starting to get fed up with this quite literal Golden Goose Chase.
Angus was insane, and that wasn’t helping me try to cope with whatever madness we were facing in this franctured world. Maybe it was time to call it quits, maybe I should follow him to the nearest town and parts ways with him there, maybe…
Oh shit.
I found the surviving Fluffies, but I wasn’t the first one to do so, a bear had found them first and was feasting on the annihilated corpses. Well… it mostly resembled a bear, whatever it was had been violently mutated by the radiation, its claws were long and curled, patches of its fur decayed so badly I could see bone, open wounds bled and festered along its body, and the whole creature seemed to emit a soft green hue, like the radiation was still emanating from its body.
I stepped back, slowly, hoping it wouldn’t see me, I reached out for the nearest tree to steady myself, I took another step back.
A twig snapped.
Fuck.
It saw me.
I tried to run but the trees and roots tangled me up and I crashed into the forest floor, narrowly avoid a stream of Fluffy shit from hitting me in the face. I spun round, the bear was inching close rto me, wet drools of slobber dripping from its mouth, its dead black eyes staring at me with coldness, and with hunger. I tried to crawl backwards, but I knew there was no escape, I had no way of getting up in time, no way to avoid the trees while this creature could barrel through them.
All I could do was hold my breath, pray and…
“OI SUZY!”
The bear looked up, I looked up, Angus stood there, crossbow drawn with the blubbering blue Smarty already locked into place.
“Paws aff the Laddie.”
PTANG
SSSSSSCCCCCCCRRRRRRrrrrrreeeeeeeee
The crossbow fired Smarty flew into the bear’s open mouth, lodging himself directly into its throat. The sound of gargling and the smell of rancid shit filled the air as the bear tried to unlodge this fat ball of Fluff from its airways, droplets of blood spilled from its mouth, likely from where the Smarty’s horn had pierced its flesh.
Eventually the bear stumbled and swayed, and then it fell down, choked to death on a goddamn Fluffy of all things. I stood up, still in shock about the whole situation, Angus sauntered up beside me, chewing on a piece of Fluffy meat like he didn’t have a care in the fucking world.
“Leave it. Ya dinnae want tae eat that pish…” He took another bite of Fluffy meat. “…Dinnae ken where its been.”
He grinned a final time at me, then slung his crossbow over his shoulder and strolled off like the patchwork psycho he was, humming a song about waling 500 miles or something like that.
At that moment I remembered why I’d stuck with Angus for so long, he might be a Mad Bastard, but only a Mad Bastard would look a mutant bear in the eye and fire a Fluffy down its gullet without a second’s thought.
And that’s the type of madness you need to keep you alive in this world. At that moment I vowed to help Angus find his Golden Fluffy, even if it killed me.
.
…
…
Fuck, this is what’s going to kill me isn’t it?
