I decided I wasn’t done kicking Cupid. Well, this will be the final time. @ezpete had the title idea so I stole it. This is what happens when you’re a bad fluffy. Hot Spot original story for context
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Cupid had been in the shelter for a long time. Fluffies often gave an exaggerated passage of time, but it had been an unprecedented number of years stuck in that glass viewing box. The same feeding tube up his snout, more and more infections spreading across his back-half, bedsores appearing over red which had turned a dark grey. In all those years his mummah had never come to see him, and beyond required care to keep him alive he had no physical interaction with anyone or anything. Aside from every Christmas where they came and strapped a silly holiday hat to his head because he was kind of a bummer to observe.
So it was with neither hope or fear in his heart that Cupid was taken out of the place one day. Carried out in a cardboard box and placed into the back of a vroomy. It was actually the first time in so long that the fluffy had experienced darkness. The shelter kept it’s lights on day and night so those afraid of the dark wouldn’t lose their minds. They went along for awhile before they stopped, and Cupid would be carried out from the box into a building.
He didn’t really know what to expect or see but eventually he was carefully dumped out onto a big shiny table like they had back at the shelter. That big table smelled like scaredy-poopies or peepee but this one didn’t smell like anything. Cupid was forced to stare into a bright lighter, brighten than even the ones he’d been around for so long. It hurt his eyes but it wasn’t like he could turn away. A man wearing a mask hovered over him with a needle in his hand but he’d seen far too many of these in his life to even have a semblance of fear anymore.
“You’re going to be a very special little guy.” Was all Cupid would hear before the needle sunk into his flank. Special? Just like mummah always used to tell him? That was nice to think about. There wasn’t much time to think though, because everything went to real dark times. There, he didn’t feel pain. Even went he went to sleep through the years he would be wracked with the same intense pain, or nightmares. This was something else though. Time didn’t exist, neither did pain or thinking. It was finally just a reprieve.
It wouldn’t last though. Cupid ‘woke’ up. That was a subjective thing to say though as he couldn’t see or hear anything. There was nothing in the world except the dim black of his brain. Even though he couldn’t feel his body, pain erupted everywhere. It was like everything was on fire. A constant sea of agonizing, needling punishment as if directly in his brain.
“Behold the miracle of modern science!” The proud scientist, Auguste, announced to his aide. They had removed a fluffy’s brain and put it into a jar of biogel. Yup, Cupid had been medically terminated and used in this little project. Many had come before him but this was the success.
“I can’t believe it actually worked! We’ve got brain activity!” The aide, Christina, almost shouted in her excitement. They had a way to communicate with the brain. A keypad connected to many wires attached to the spinal column, still connected to the small mass of grey matter in the tube in front of them. By typing a message, a missive would be humanely delivered via electric pulses.
“How…are…you…feeling?” Auguste muttered, typing out a message for Cupid to receive. The fluffy felt it. Scrawled across his mind as if with a blazing hot knife. He wanted to screech but couldn’t. There was nothing he could do.
01110111 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101
The results displayed on a screen next to the tank. “Hmm.”
Many questions were asked, over and over again. Each time, the same response. The fluffy was beginning to forget everything else but the heat in his brain each time a question was asked.
“Seems like it’s less of a success than we’d hoped. Still, it’ll be useful to keep around to show off. For grant money.” Auguste mentioned, figuring they would have to start on a new brain. This was a hopeful start though. “Wheel him to a closet.”
So the platform containing the biogel filled tank and brain, monitors, and everything was wheeled off to a dusty closet. There were no more messages given to him. Cupid sat there for a long time. Thousands of communications flashed on the monitor allotted to allow him to speak.
01110111 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101
01110111 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101
01110111 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101
01110111 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101
01110111 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101
01110111 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101
01110111 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101
