“Ou’ hab been a bad fwuffy. Smawty sentence ou too…” They pause rubbing their chin with their hoof contemplatively. “Dah sowwy box.” They add with a point of the same leg.
“Nuu~ pwease. Nummie findah just makin suwe nummies safe.” The fluffy pleads as a pair of toughies holds him back and gut check him as they attempt to advance to explain themselves.
Smarty steps forward and raises the fluffies head. “One bite undewstandabwe… An entiwe wedding cake am not!” He adds giving them a slight bonk to the top of the skull since they had already decided the punishment and didn’t want to seem unfair by also administering sorry hoofies.
They turn away as the pair of toughies lift them off the ground between them and walk the fluffy away as the next issue is brought to the smarties court.
The toughies set the nummie finder down before the great obelisk. One steps forward to tap their hoof against the front side searching for the actual physical button amongst the series of electrical ones that do not function without power.
“Any poopies ou’ make in the dah sowwy box can and wiww be used against ou’.” As he finishes saying that the other toughie finds the physical button at the bottom and presses it in triggering the door latch to release and the door opens slightly. They push the cracked door wide open to reveal a be-speckled plastic interior with some holes on the side. “Meh who cawes abou’ dah west.” The toughie adds bored of the proceedings as they commence to shove the bad fluffy into their cell. Once inside their partner closes the door and it latches with a ‘clink’ sound.
The two walk off to allow the fluffy to repent in proper isolation. The glass was foggy from this side only really allowing a vague understanding of the immediate area. They lay down and sigh. Many forevers pass and they have gotten bored of trying to count the stains since there are more then four for every hoof. They had learned that they could rotate the bottom and were having fun with that until they knocked the roller out of alignment and were now at a slightly tilt. The fluffy takes a nap. After no one responds to their calls that they’d like to come out now they proceed to try and identify the stains by smell and taste. Most aren’t very pretty after so long…
Suddenly a gurgle. “Hungie?”
‘Phhbt.’ Their backside squeaks almost as if to say ‘guess again’.
“Nu pwease tummies nu huwties, poopie pwace, nee’ wait tiww out ob sowwy box.” They add struggling with their words as they begin leaning over gently rubbing their stomach in a placating manner as if to ‘hug’ it into compliance.
The Gurgle intensified.
“Wai~ pwease not wike dis! Hab mewcy~"
. . .But there would be none.
"BUTTEW CWEAM!!!”
The nummie finder screed as they were sent rocketing into the door propelled by their explosive shit. Pressed up against the door in a cartoonish pose their silhouette was outlined by shit against the glass. The fluffy may have been crushed to death by the sudden pressure if not for the ventilation holes in the microwave that poop shot out of like strings of crayon out of a hydraulic press. Instead they drowned in their own shit, the cakes expired frosting far too rich and contaminated for their guts to handle.
The nummie finders crimes were dismissed Post mortem for their sacrifice of saving the herd from a potentially fatal bout of diarrhea. The sorry box’s cleaning and the recovery of the body would be the sentence of the next bad fluffy.
Inspired by the comment events of There are rules in this house (InfraredTurbine) - #4 by recreationalsadist
