Mandy quit her job a year ago, living on unemployment hit her pride hard, worse off was her veterinary skills were getting rusty from neglect, and like fuck was she going to let years of hard work and her papa selling his car be all for nothing. She first noticed her skills slip after a knife accident in the kitchen. “jesus christ almighty… It looks like a bloody fluffy did these stitches” she grumbled to herself after her attempt to fix it up.
“nobody’s gonna hire me if i can’t even do a basic stitch up, fuck me sideways!” she snapped before throwing her can of coke against the wall. She then just sort of stared at it for a moment. “what the hell is wrong with me…” she said softly before taking a deep breath and getting up to throw a paper towel over the stain. In the corner of her eye, out the bedroom window was a grey fluffy digging through the rubbish bins, a bit on the ugly side with an over extending forehead and tiny little beady eyes. A wicked thought came across her mind when she looked at the creature, she had been getting a lot of them ever since her first outburst, and especially around fluffies.
She walked out into the spot behind her family’s pub and home, then put on her best veterinarian smile, she could still do that right at the very least. “hello little guy, are you ok?” she said with the sweetest of well rehearsed voices.
“hewwo pwetty wady, wan be mummah?” he said predictably.
“you know what… Yeah why the heck not? but I need only the best and most well behaved fluffy, otherwise I’m going to have to look elsewhere and you’ll be out here on your own… and anything could happen to a fluffy out here, even ‘forever sleepies’” she said with puppy dog eyes and her best pout.
“dat nu be pwobwem. Wocky am gud fwuffy, du am towd” he declared before giving her a little salute with his hoof.
“god, that’s fucking cute…” Mandy thought to herself as she picked him up and brought him in. Maybe she didn’t actually have the MacFeely anger in her, especially if something as simple as a little wave of a weggie can get under her, maybe that incident at the shelter was just a one-time fluke? Could a small act, so insignificant turn her around from her family’s long held path? The idea raced through her mind and then she stopped and looked at Rocky, holding him from arms length. Looking at him now didn’t give her the same anger as it did before, she didn’t seeth when staring into his fat, dumb, smiling face.
“teehee, wuv uppies” he said with snot bubbles dribbling from his muzzle…
aaand there it was. She took a sigh of relief and kept walking. “thank fuck” she whispered as she moved into the wine cellar. “ok little guy, mammah needs to make you a super special fluffy before i can keep you, is that ok?” she asked while twirling his black mane that kind of reminded her of fat Elvis.
“BE SUPER FWUFFY?! WIKE ON DA TEEBEE?” he bounced excitedly.
“A name and a knowledge of fluff tv, huh? Must be a runaway” she thought to herself.
“kind of, i need you to lay here so i can give you superpowers with my… hooooooomin magiiiic!” she said with wiggly fingers pointed at him. She then tried desperately to immediately hide her face, the cringe from what she had just let out her mouth almost forced her gag reflex.
“otey mummah, Wocky am weady! Wet it wip!” he said before trying to give another salute, before realising that the little leather straps around his legs wouldn’t allow it.
Mandy had performed nerve blocking surgery before, although it’s typically done on a pet that can go under anesthesia, but Rocky seemed up to it so she was sure he wouldn’t mind having his ability to feel sensation removed.
She knew the method for fluffies was different and more primitive, but she ought to get the same result. Unfortunately the injections do not work on fluffies, in fact, no known methods of pain relief did. and so you would have to manually destroy each nerve ending to get your result while he was wide awake.
He screamed for hours. At a volume she was sure no rat-pig-horse-thing was ever meant to reach. A long and perfectly sustained scream as every prominent nerve was attacked by the strike of her needles. Unfortunately this wasn’t even fun anymore for Mandy and she had only gotten as far as his lower legs to lower torso by using red hot acupuncture. She stared at the old analogue clock and sighed, “You know what? Let’s speed this shit up…” she said as she stuck every last needle where it ought to be, all of them connecting to his nerves and sending the purest of and most primal of pain straight into his very core. “huuu… GASP HUUU… GASP HUUUUU…” he wheezed, accompanied by the occasional full body twitch, yet surprisingly through it all the little trash goblin never once begged her to stop, argued, bargained or fought during the operation. Whoever Rocky’s old owners were, they sure knew how to cultivated loyalty. A shame really, if he were in any other house he’d be a model fluffy.
Mandy looked around for that old mostly dead car battery. She hooked up everything but hadn’t complete the circuit just yet. And just before she let the wires touch, her dim little horror show was lit by the light from upstairs.
“oh, umm, hi mum…” Mandy grinned in a desperate attempt to not look like a serial killer in training. Her Mother just looked at her, then at Rocky, or more accurately the chirping and writhing husk that used to be Rocky, and then back towards Mandy. “I’ll talk to you later… Please put that poor creature out of its misery…” she said in the most monotone, yet heartbroken of voices, eyes utterly glazed over with disappointment.
Her mum immediately ran off to cry upstairs and as mandy followed in hot pursuit she dropped the wires. One landed in a small puddle from a decade old leak papa never got around to fixing and the other laid close by. Naked, live and on the cold ground, silently begging to be reunited with its twin.
Rocky had always been a good fluffy, his mammah made sure he was. He was one of a litter of seventeen. His mammah was something called a “bweedin mawe” but she was special, all her babies came out grey. Very strange, because she herself was the bluest of blues with the prettiest of pink manes. She had a wingie and a pointy but was the kindest mammah ever, nothing munstah-ish about her at all.
Unfortunately mammah’s hoomin mammah hated Rocky and all his identical siblings. Every litter would be the same and every time mammah would be made to pick one of her litter to stay and live while she was forced to watch the rest go straight into a big burnie pit in mammah’s mammah’s garden. Rocky always promised to protect mammah when her mammah drank the dizzy water and would throw things at her, he used to watch fluff TV before the mean lady took it away, and his favourite show was always Superfluff, a big strong stallion with a heart of gold, who would save good mammah’s and bebbehs, and then fly off with a heroic salute. Mammah said that he was her “widdle hewo” every dark time as she gave his mane licky cleanies to look like Superfluff’s.
After the third litter, mammah couldn’t take it anymore. She snuck out one dark time with her three survivors and made it to a hole in the fence. She squeezed her three little angels through before she was suddenly stuck when halfway through herself. She had another huge litter of tummy babbehs and was just on the cusp of losing her ability to walk, it was pure love and determination that got her little legs as far as the fence. Her hoomin mammah said all the worst things at her when she came out and found her, said how she was “ungrateful” and that she doesn’t need a “broken baby shitter anyway” before giving her the worst stompies from behind and even jumping on her. Rocky’s eyes watched unblinkingly as his mammah screamed, gargled boo boo wawa, whimpered and begged for the lives of her unborn children. He watched till the end, unlike his two siblings who already made a break for it, Rocky was loyal and mammah wasn’t going to go forever sleepies alone. Long after the litter of premature foals were scooped up from their mother’s corpse and were tossed into the fire, Rocky still watched his mammah’s empty, hollow glare, her face frozen in agony. He couldn’t save her, he was so sorry. He promised her lifeless, half collapsed shell that his next Mammah would have this undying support, no matter what. He gave his mammah a licky kissie on the nose one last time and then scampered off alone into the night.
Mandy returned after a heated family debate over the theological standing of the Catholic Church on whether or not fluffies had souls. When she made her way into the cellar, the stink of cooked fluffy and boiled piss was pungent in the air and steaming on the floor around her work bench.
“SHIT, NO! MY HARD WORK!” she screamed before dropping her coffee, kicking the battery wires away and fanning the little bastard as hard as her copy of Abusers Monthly could go.
“come on buddy, wake up, mammah’s here, remember?” she asked before undoing his straps and pouring water into his mouth lightly from a bottle nearby.
It was very touch and go the next couple of weeks. Rocky was kept on an IV drip and constantly came in and out of consciousness, his genitals were completely destroyed and melted into a black nub that Mandy had to hook up with a catheter, he had a clostomy bag as well, she had decided it would be best like that, she had had her fill of cleaning up fluffy shit and piss at the shelter.
Occasionally his mouth just garbled out mushed up, malformed quasi words, as if several thoughts had fused together.
One morning he went completely limp and Mandy had to defibulate him with a taser to the chest and a few rounds of CPR. little fucker pulled through though, he was a fighter.
Mandy wasn’t entirely sure what had done it exactly, out of the laundry list of trauma he experienced, but she had caused a reset in his little brain. She knew a direct shock to the noggin could do it and she supposed a prolonged slow roast had the same effect. But this reset felt different to the one she had to do at the shelter, far more profound, like a hard reset back to factory… With a few added quirks on the side. “hewwo, am fwuffy, am nice wady mammah?” he said as he cocked his little head, which resulted in the occasion micro-seizure, but it didn’t matter, he was alive and seemingly devoid of all pain.
The day came for Mandy to test her experiment and see if she had created a fluffy incapable of feeling physical pain.
“okay now little guy, Mummy just needs to tickle your back for a bit, so stay extra still like a good little fluffy…” she said before lightly running a scalpel across his back. And sure as sugar, a handsome little wound opened up but not a peep came from Mandy’s little abomination. She smiled as she practiced stitching him back up. Within a few days and some dry runs, her skills were right back where they were the day she quit the shelter. Her little grey monster was covered in stiches from his face to has flank, his lack of bodily sensation caused him to lumber slowly about with outstretched legs and his black mane was a fuzzy mess that he instinctively tried to wet down flat with a licked hoof. Despite his horrible mutilations he was a surprisingly cheerful and still very loyal fluffy, even with his very possible brain damage and guaranteed amnesia.
With practice complete she applied for some jobs as the onsite vet for a few breeding mills and within a few days she got an acceptance letter when they saw her extensive resume from a fortune spent in the education system and years of shelter work during her hugbox years, a fortune she was still paying off.
Mandy popped open a bottle of champagne to celebrate and as soon as the little fluffy’s eyes locked onto the bottle he screamed. “NUUUUUUU AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, MAMMAH NU, AM GUD FWUFFY, NU STOMPIES!” He cried out before his neck did that little twitch thing again, a little two second micro seizure later and he was perfectly fine staring at the bottle. Although Mandy had just lost her desire to drink from the horror show she just witnessed, in fear of triggering another episode. They stared each other for a little bit until Mandy took a sip finally, her eyes never locking off of him. After she put down the glass she turned to him and asked if he would like a name (since his old one was clearly long gone). He wagged these little mess of a tail and did a dumb little dance as he begged for one, and by dance he was really just sort of vibrating with excitement, so much excitement in fact that his peepee bag filled a little. Mandy reclined in her chair and looked around for inspiration. It didn’t take very long… her Papa was a big fan of those campy old black and white horror movies, you know the kind, Dracula, mummies, Monsters brought back to life with mad science… Then it hit her as her eyes met with a framed, tattered and dust covered poster for the bride of Frankenstein. “hey, what about Frankie?” she asked and without skipping a beat his beady little eyes widened in utter delight. “hehehehe am fwankie, fank yew mammah” he said, “yous da bestes mammah” he added as he nuzzled up against her leg. “hell yeah I am…” she smiled as she tossled his hair, “the best mommy you are ever going to have”.