The mega-mill was a strange building, the several times the size of a standard shopping mall. Part store, part breeding facility, and mostly meat-packing plant, it processed and produced fluffies and fluffy-related products, as well as selling bulk fluffies to stores. Day in and day out it operated with the sound of, depending on the section, chirping and chattering of happy fluffies, cries of fluffy horror and pain, or the never-ending sounds of meat being ground into the fine paste that was converted into animal feed.
Derrick, the supervision for the seasonal goods division, was not having a good night. Heād been called in at 2 in the morning because of some issue or another that the peons working under him were too incompetent or lazy to deal with. Well, to be honest it was a bit of a relief from the never-ending arguments with his soon-to-be ex-wife at home, but heād take any excuse to direct his anger at something else for a change.
The seasonal goods division offered a wide range of products, from faux-snow for indoor fluffies to play in to real fluffy skeletons for Halloween. Derrick personally hate dealing with the fake snow; the containers always leaked and it was impossible to get the stuff off the bottoms of his shoes. Of course, the seasonal divisionās main product was greetings cards.
āGreeting cards,ā as the product was euphemistically called, were fluffy foals, barely past the chirpy phase, trained to sing a single song when their container was opened. After that they were usually abandoned in the trash, so in order to avoid fees for the associated dumping of fluffies, the company devised an ingenious device that would trigger the injection of a slow fluffy-specific toxin when the box was opened, ensuring the foalās demise within 24 hours.
Now, as the holidays approached, the seasonal division was working to train their latest batch of appropriately-colored foals. Derrick personally loathed this part of the process, since the foals were extremely noisy and prone to escaping their pens and making messes. The after-season culling, however, was quite enjoyable.
As he stomped his way to his office, a considerable distance from his parking space on the opposite side of the facility, he muttered to himself about laziness, ineptitude, and general lay-aboutness of the current generation. Damn kids these days couldnāt fix a single thing and never took responsibility. He knew his younger employees hated him, and he didnāt care.
āWhatās the problem?ā he gruffly asked his assistant, who was waiting in his office.
āThe greetings cards. Theyāve been tampered with. All 400 of the current batch. Thereās one here,ā the scrawny, wispy-haired young man indicated a standard greetings card box for the holiday season.
Derrick opened the box, paused for a moment, then began to utter the most vile curses imaginable. The foal was ruined! Unsellable! Garbage! If the entire batch was this bad, there was no way heād get his bonus! Goddamn kids!
āI want you to find out who did this, and I want them fired, tonight!ā
āSee, thatās the thing, sir. Weāre all pretty fed up of your bullshit, so we decided before we all left weād make sure you got to be on the receiving side for a change. Good luck cleaning up the mess.ā The smirk on the dumbass kidās face was making Derrickās blood pressure spike.
āDamn you all! I swear, Iāll make sure you all never find a decent job again!ā
āGood luck with that. Oh, and just so you know, the reportās already been made to corporate, so donāt try weaseling your way out of this one. Goodbye, Derrick.ā
Derrick slammed his fist down on his desk after his ex-assistant left. The foal repeated its song, not having the vocabulary to explain whatever it was it needed. Derrick reached under his desk, pulling out a box cutter he had no business keeping there. He used it for when he needed some extraā¦stress relief and there were ruined fluffies to be taken care of.
Oh well, heād just have to cut his losses and have them all shipped to the meat grinder. True, it would make the company a loss, and would no doubt cost him his bonus for the year, but there was no way theyād reprogram the foals in time for the selling season to start. Especially not with half his staff gone.
Toying with the box cutter, he considered what heād do to this particular foal. There were so many ways to make them suffer, after all. Not that these ones responded properly; their programming had reduced their ability to communicate to singing the same song over and over. They didnāt even scream properly.
As the foal was dismantled, it pleaded for life in the only way it knew how. The same words, over and over, as it lost limb after limb. Soon, it was blinded, missing its limbs and had most of the skin removed from its abdomen. Damn thing wonāt even scream right. Ruins the fun.
āNebah gonā gib 'ou up, nebah gon wet āou doan, nebah gon wun awound anā de-sewt 'ou! Nebahā¦gonā¦maekā¦'ouā¦cwyā¦nebahā¦nebahā¦nebahā¦ā
Wick Wowwād 
Poor little foal
I find the idea of the one use fluffies really fascinating and sad at the same time.
Not really any different from using live bait like worms or crickets when fishing, when you think about it. Apart from the obvious difference in intelligence. Worms and crickets arenāt quite as stupid as your average fluffy.
As a Rick Astley fan I really do hate heās best known for his worst album.
He has a really great voice
But no real skill for writing. Portrait is his best album IMO as itās nothing but covers.
He got wick wowwed 
guess he was that of an asshole to reach this level of sabotage.
Hey, a lot of the best voices couldnāt write their way out of a paper bag!
True. But he doesnāt pick great songs for himself normally either. Hence Portrait being his best album. All tried and true songs.
I like his music. A lot. And Iāll buy his next album the moment it comes out (Iāve got an autographed copy of 50 on my desk). But I am aware of his shortcomings.
His only other one that I gripe about? His studio stuff is too clean. If you ever get to hear his live stuff (Youtube) its SOOO MUCH BETTER. Heās almost singer in terms of energy, feel, etc. He really needs to put out a live album.
Toss the foals out?! Where is his business sense? Those can easily be sold as a prank gimmick!
āOne manās priceless is another manās worthless.ā
- Quark, Ferengi barkeep & opportunist
Not a bad idea
*Posts not just a Ferengi, but the best Ferengi
10/10 post 