Hello everyone! I’ve been lurking in this community for a few years now, and have decided I want to help contribute to this wonderfully bi-polar community. As a disclaimer, I must say that I haven’t written anything not school related ever, so I apologize if it’s not up to the Fluffy-Community standard. Please try to enjoy!
Jason scrolled through his YouTube channel analytics, smiling at the sudden increase in subscribers and views. Jason owned an extermination company, of which he was the only employee. He specialized in defending farmer’s fields from the ecological nightmare known simply as “fluffies”. These man-made multi-colored horrors had proven quite the problem for anyone trying to make a living growing the land, especially poorer family-owned farms who couldn’t afford the higher-end extermination companies. This is where Jason came in.
Charging such low amounts, Jason basically cornered the entirety of the budget fluffy extermination market, giving hope to small farms and disgruntled landowners. He charged so little that it would be almost impossible for him to survive off of it, even if he sold his quiet countryside house and decided to only live on bread and butter. Luckily he had found a way to substitute his lost outcome by running an “educational” YouTube Channel on which he would upload videos of his escapades onto.
He also offered his fans the opportunity to join his Telegram channel, in which he would charge money for custom extermination videos, mostly consisting of gruesome acts being committed against fluffies that would be too much for YouTube. While there weren’t any laws against brutalizing fluffies, there were plenty of possible terms of service violations, and he really didn’t feel like getting his channel banned for showing a little too much blood.
His most recent video titled “Shootout at Sundown” was an overwhelming success, gaining nearly a million views within a week of being uploaded. Now how many views were actual fans or hug-boxers coming to harass him and his followers in the comment section was up to speculation, but that didn’t matter to potential sponsors, most of which were firearms companies and ammunition manufacturers wanting him to do videos on whatever flavor of the month .22 rifle or new ammunition they were releasing.
Jason perked up as he heard his dog starting to bark downstairs. Quickly shutting off his computer, he stood up and exited his bedroom, rushing down the stairs to see what his dog was losing it for.
“What’s going on Parker?” He asked, knowing full well that his dog couldn’t answer.
His dog, a Doberman Pinscher was in his kitchen, barking at something in the backyard through the sliding glass door. Walking over, Jason grimaced as he spotted a handful of fluffies roaming around his backyard, specifically his garden. A feral heard.
“Son of a bitch…” Jason groaned before returning upstairs and heading to his bedroom, inside a large gun safe.
Unlocking it and opening it up, he retrieved an 8-shot .22 caliber revolver and a handful of .22 speed loaders which he stashed in his pocket. Opening up the revolver’s cylinder, he used one of the speed loaders to load it, placing the empty speed loader back inside of the gun safe before shutting and locking it back up.
Heading back downstairs, he made a quick stop at his closet to fetch a pair of earplugs for him and a pair of special doggy ear muffs for Parker. It wasn’t the first time he had to dispatch fluffies in his backyard, and he didn’t like to stress out Parker with the sound of gunfire, nor did he like to risk damaging his hearing.
Entering the kitchen he called for Parker to come to him so he could slip the ear muffs onto him. Placing the earplugs into his ears, he opened the sliding glass door and slipped out, making sure not to let Parker charge through. The fluffies hasn’t seemed to notice him, too lost in whatever happy rainbow world they believed they were in, which gave Jason the perfect chance to figure out how many he was dealing with.
Scanning his backyard he counted 7 adult fluffies and a handful of foals, with the 7 adults consisting of three earthies, three unicorns, and a single blue pegasus. At the distance he was at he was unable to figure out the exact number of foals, nor could he discern their type, however, he estimated that there were upwards of ten of them. The fluffies were currently helping themselves to his strawberry bushes, with only the pegasus seemingly keeping an eye out for any danger.
Jason discreetly pocketed his revolver before approaching his garden, trying his best to appear friendly. He didn’t want to accidentally scare them off and end up costing someone else the displeasure of dealing with them.
Jason managed to get within four feet of the gardening plot before he received any reaction from the blue pegasus.
“Stahp wite dewe hooman!” The blue pony yelled out, alerting the rest of the herd to Jason’s presence. “Don’t get any cwosah.”
The rest of the fluffies walked out of the bushes and stood behind the blue pegasus.
“Hey little guys, I was just wondering what you were doing in my backyard?” Jason asked with a fake smile on his face.
“Dis isn’t youw yawd anymowe hooman! Dis am bwuebewwies-!” One of the unicorns, a yellow male, began to say before being cut off by a glance from the blue pegasus, who Jason now assumed to be the herds smarty.
“Excuse me?” Jason questioned with a head tilt, his brow furrowed angrily.
“Sowwy hooman. Wemon am just stoopi’ fwuffie. We’we just hewe to get tasty nummies su dah mawes can make dah bestes’ miwkies fo’ theiw babbehs.” The blue pegasus apologized. “We just nee’ bit mowe nummies den we wiww weabe.”
Jason smiled at the politeness of this suspected smarty. However, no matter how kind they were, they were still pests.
“Actually I was wondering if I could get you guys some spaghetti.”
“Sketties!?” The entire herd gasped, saved for the pegasus who gave Jason a weary glance. Perhaps he had been tricked before and was seeing through Jason’s lies.
“Whewe am dah sketties?” Blueberry asked, still giving Jason a cautious look.
“I have them in my back pocket. Turn around, line up, and lay face down on the ground and I’ll give it to you all.”
As the rest of the fluffies followed Jason’s commands, including the foals who buried themselves face first into their mothe back fluff, Blueberry sniffed the air, obviously trying to pick up any scent of the spaghetti.
“Fwuffy don’t smeww any sketties…” Blueberry said with a nervous voice.
“Oh trust me, I have them. Just do what your herd is doing and you’ll get some,” Jason replied, reaching behind his back and grasping onto the grip of his revolver.
“We don’t wan’ sketties anymowe. Fwuffie an’ hewd am goin’ to be goin’ nao-“ The blue pegasus began to say before Jason whipped out his .22 revolver, firing a single shot into the nervous fluffies head.
The pegasus fell forward, his body stiffening up as he collapsed. The rest of the herd jumped slightly at the sudden loud noise. Not wanting them to realize what was happening, Jason quickly started working his way down the line, firing into the backs of the adult fluffies heads.
He managed to kill quite a number of them before the last three adults figured out what was happening, all three with foals on their backs. They hastily stood up and attempted to run, but Jason was too quick and managed to fire three more shots before they had even stood up.
The first, a purple earthie, was killed instantly by a shot to the back of her neck, her foals screaming as she fell over sideways and tipped them off of her back.
The second, a red unicorn, was also killed relatively quickly, the bullet passing through the back of her head and out of her eyeball. Her spasming muscles somehow causing her to roll backward, crushing her own foals under her lifeless body.
The final fluffy, a heavily pregnant orange earthie, managed too survive the initial gunshot wound, with the bullet striking her right shoulder. The mare did a rather impressive roll as her body reacted too the sudden injury, her young riders all tumbling off of her and onto the ground.
“Wowstes’ huwties!” She squealed out as she tried to stumble back up onto her feet.
Jason aimed directly for the mare’s head to attempt to finish her off with the last bullet, but upon pulling the trigger his gun misfired, the .22 bullet failing to go off.
“Son of a bitch!” Jason yelled out, as he quickly swung out the cylinder before reaching into his pocket for a speed-loader.
The orange mare managed to stand up and began to run towards the tree line which surrounded Jason’s backyard, leaving her foals behind.
Her front right leg offered no help, however, and she ended up stumbling and collapsing forward. As she attemptedtoo stand up once again Jason closed the cylinder of his now fully loaded revolver and, with zero restraint, began to fire all 8 shots in rapid succession at the mare. Nearly all of the shots connected, and the mare collapsed for the final time.
“Get fucked!” Jason screamed, his chill and professional demeanor slipping away from him for a brief moment. Jason stood there for a moment, heart pounding in his chest as he breathed heavily.
“Mummah get up! we nee’ to wun 'way fwom munsta!"
Jason turned his attention toward the three groups of foals. There were about 15 of them altogether, divided into three groups, each one in a various state of health and emotion. The purple mare’s foals were relatively unharmed, with the babies trying to nudge their dead mother awake.
“Wakies! pwease mummah nu time fo’ sweepies we nee’ too go!“ One of them cried.
Meanwhile, the red unicorns foals were in a state of complete distress, their mothers backward fall crushing them under her weight. Only three managed to crawl out, with another two screaming from underneath her, suffocating under the unicorn’s fluff. The three that had managed too escape were busy writhing around on the ground squealing about “hurties”, the short fall, and the weight of their mother having broken many of their fragile bones.
Finally, there were the orange mares foals. Much like the red unicorns foals, many were seriously injured, their young bodies having absorbed the energy put off by their mother’s sideways roll. His eyes naturally drifted towards a single black foal, his milk-white bones shattered and sticking out of his front legs. His eyes were wide and tears flowed freely from them.
“SKREEEEEE! SKREEEEEEEEEE!” He screamed as he rolled around in his own shit and piss.
Sighing, Jason began to figure out what he was going to do about the bodies along with the living and dying foals. He was going to have to head back inside to fetch a garbage bag for the bodies, however, he was somewhat worried that some of the foals would escape, and while the chances of their survival were slim, the possibility of being picked up by another herd was a chance he was not worth taking.
After a minute of thinking he decided to kill whichever foals hadn’t suffered injuries, reasoning that most of the injured foals would be unable to flee given their condition. This of course meant that he went straight towards the purple fluffies corpse, her foals still trying to nudge her awake, all while crying to themselves.
He stood there for a moment as he reloaded his revolver, listening to the shitrats mumble to themselves.
“Pwease mummah fwuffy don’t wan’ go foweba sweepies! Pwease! Pwease! Pwease!“ A light blue fluffy begged before starting to bat at his mother’s corpse with his front hooves.
“Wakies! Wakies!” Another cried.
Once done reloading, Jason began to take aim at the foals, first aiming for the light blue one. Pulling the trigger, a bullet tore through the foal’s back, bio-toy’s young body falling onward onto its mother.
One by one he killed off the foals just as he had killed the parents until eventually all the uninjured foals were lying dead. Pocketing his gun he returned to his house and grabbed an extra large garbage bag before returning to clean up the mess. As expected, the injured foals did not escape, with most seemingly dying from their injuries.
Jason pondered whether their eternal organs had been ruptured by a broken bone, or whether they may had died from shock, or if they simply decided to close their eyes and die, but it truly did not matter. Only a handful were still alive, a quick stomp being more than enough to dispatch them. Jason then began to clean up the bodies, loading each one inside of the garbage bag.
After about ten minutes of cleanup, he was done. He carried the bag back to his house and into his basement where he stored his “disposal machine”. For all intent and purposes, it was a miniature wood chipper that was sold as a way to dispose of fluffy corpses. It was grisly, but it allowed Jason to turn fluffies into an easy-to-dispose meat paste, which he would be able to dump into the woods.
Pouring the fluffies into the feeding hopper, Jason turned on the machine and watched as the corpses were ground up into liquid and dumped into a large multi-gallon bucket that hung from the end of the discharge spout.
Finally after about 10 seconds of grinding, he turned off the machine, removed the bucket, and brought it outside where he promptly dumped it all a few meters deep in the woods
After washing the bucket out with his garden hose he returned it to the machine before heading back up to the kitchen and removing Parker’s ear muffs and his own ear plugs. Feeling tired, Jason returned his firearm and the ammo to his gun safe before hopping back onto his computer and checking his emails. His eyes widened as he read the title: “Burrow busting needed at Schofield Farm (urgent)”
Jason double-clicked the email and opened it up…
