You have been hearing it for weeks now, your friends and coworkers you invited over all thought you were crazy when you mentioned it to them.
The queit and distant squicking and snickering, the peeping and chirping. Following you everywhere, in every room. Not one other person had heard it when invited over.
But you finally saw something, the key to this puzzle.
And if you press your ear to the floor of your garage you can discern the muffled mummah song for what it is, and so can you hear them talking bellow every other room’s floor.
How did they manage to get there? More importantly, how many are in there?
Obviously there are enough to occupy every section of the crawlspace.
What now? An expensive fumigation?
No, you don’t have enough money for that.
And thankfully, it’s just fluffies, and they’re easy to trick.
…
Earlier that day, 02:00 AM
As a sneakie friend, your job is to go out and look for nummies for the herd.
Out from the entrance, following the wall to right, up the rusted pipe behind the bush, pushing yourself up the no-smell-pretty pipe into the house, pushing up the plastic grate that led inside the vroom-vroom monster room.
You squint as your eyes are bombarded with light.
Once your see places stop hurting, you climb out of the drain. Behind you come the other two sneakie friends and the thougie carrying the nummies bag.
Suddenly, you find yourself being pushed to the ground, and paws the size of your head surround you.
“Bawkie fwiend!”
As the other fluffies all go hug the playful german shepherd, she drops and rolls on her back so you all can give her good tummy hoofs as her tongue hangs out of her mouth and her legs scratch the air.
After she is satisfied, and goes back to her soft bed, you and the others start eating from Barky’s nummie bowl.
Above the nummie bowl, you see the giant tube the kibble nummies would endlessly fall down from.
This was trully a magical place.
As you soften the high quality dog kibble by letting it soak in your spit, you recall the different things that happened in the past.
You had been just a talkie babbeh when the herd had escaped from the “Store”, so you never really experienced all the bad things the older fluffies said about it, but you had been old enough to survive the Bad Times.
The herd had been bigger, but you had not yet learned to fear and respect the vroom-vrooms, none of you knew of nummies that were not blue nummies, none of you knew that there are worse humans than the meanie daddies from the store…
All the chirpies from that time went forever sleepies from hungries and tummy hurties, your siblings and parents had gone missing when the herd was hit by the sky wawas… so many good friends lost, even your first special friend and your babbies.
But now everything is better than it was before, there was a big and warm nest that did not get wet even when the sky wawas had come, special friends could stay together, no foals were taken from their parents, there was enough grass nummies that no one would go hungry.
Even the poopie fluffies could have their own families and good nummies if they kept the litterbox empty and the nest clean!
All thanks to Barky…
You had all been running from a monster human that had been following the herd and giving every fluffy he catched sorry stompies and forever sleepies.
The smarty had guided you all under a fence, hoping that the monster could not cross it, but he had jumped after you.
Before he could hurt any fluffy, Barky came and scared him off, barking and snapping at the monster’s boo-boo covered feet!
She had been so scarry at the time, with her big sharp chompies and making the scariest growlies ever.
Even that meanie monster had made scaredy peepees!
But she ended up being the nicest barking friend ever! She shared her nummies, she kept fluffies from getting lost when the herd was playing outside, she even loved hugs and kisses!
But you where all still afraid of the scary mister that lived in the house, and none of you wanted a daddy after all the humans you had ever met had been meanie monsters.
You’re lost in your memories when a poke wakes you up.
“Bwick an’ Howwy take kibbwe nummies fow hewd, Fwash an’ Swide go wook fow tasty soft nummies fow smawty.”
You nod, you and your new special friend go through the small flapping door and into the house.
…
30 minutes ago
You wake up to find the trash can flipped, dry blood near the sharp edges of a bent beer can, drops leading to the garage through the pet door.
Your heart is crushed in shame and sadness, tears flowing out of your eyes as you ran to the garage door and pulled the door open.
Moxie your female german shepherd woke up startled as you went there to hug her and take her to the vet, but as she licked your face, you inspected her all over, no wound or dry blood anywhere, and the blood drops leading to the garage?
They go into the drain…
…
You’re letting your special friend use you as support, his left upper leggie still hurt even if it had stopped bleeding, your own legs and neck still sore from helping him all the way to the nest, but it was necessary, letting boo-boos get dirty had killed a lot of sneakie friends until the smartie had noticed the ones who got cleanies from their special friends never got the no-smell-pretty ouchies.
“Speshaw fwiend, wet Swide give wickie cwenies an go sweepies, am fwuffy fauwt speshaw fwiend geh huwties.”
“Fwash showdav’ know bettah! Am bestest sneakie! Nee teww othews bout nuh go inside twashie boxies!”
You reach the smarty’s bed in the middle of the nest, he is still asleep surrounded by his special friends.
“Smawty! Fwash nee speak 'bout new huwties!”
The smarty opens his one eye, the other he lost fighting off the squeaky monster that had been numming the herd’s foals, saving you and the other foals many forevers ago.
"Fwash get huwties? Dat no gud, wha’ happen’? He asked with concern, getting closer.
“Fwash be dummy fwuffie an geh inside twashie boxie, nuh wememba 'bout huwtie twashies. Fwash an speshaw fwiend nuh get tasty nummies fow mummahs an smawtie.”
“Nuh wowwies fwiends, kibbwe nummies be soft nummies if speshaw fwiends chew fow smawty.” The one eyed fluffy says with a warm toothless smile.“Go sweepies Fwash, Smawtie teww othew sneakies 'bout huwtie twashies.”
Before your special friend can reply, you are all startled by a loud noise.
CLANK CLANK CLANK
“HELLO FLUFFIES! COME GET SKETTIES!”
…
You watch as the micros closest to the opening of the crawlspace come running after getting hit with the smell of the pasta dish.
“Nice mistah give sketties?”
“Whewe sketties?”
“Soon-mummah nee sketties fow tummy babbies!”
“Sketties am bestest nummies fow babbeh!”
“Sketti?”
“Sketti!”
“Buh fwuffy tuh fuww fwom numming gwassies! Nuh faiw!”
“Give sketti now! Speshaw fwiend nee make bestest miwkies!”
“Guh 'way poopie fwuffy! Sketti fow gud fwuffy onwy!”
“Nuh faiw! Fwuffy cwean nestie am be gud fwuffy tuh!”
“…squeaky squeaky squeak…”
(Ugh!) “HEY! There’s sketti for everyone! And no one get’s sketti until the whole herd is here! No fluffy left out! All the fluffies, mommies and babbehs! All the poopies and dummies too!”
This is going to be so easy.
As you wait for them to come out, Moxie is tied up on the porch, you’re going to close their entrance to the crawlspace before letting her loose on the pests.
It’s going be good exercise for her, and you’re gonna film everything and post it on the internet!
It’s been long enough. “Hey is this every fluffy?”
They all start talking at the same time and you can’t make out anything!
“ONE AT A TIME! Who’s the “smarty” here?”
You grab the one that they seen to agree is the smarty, you take a closer look at it.
The red micro has a purple mane, it’s missing one eye and has a lot of scarred bald patches, when it opens it’s mouth to talk, you notice it has no teeth.
(What’s this? A litterpal became a smarty?)
“Thankies fow skettis nice mistah! Hewd nevew had sketti befow.”
“Uhu, is there really no one left inside there?”
“Nuh! Hewd push aww soon mummahs fow num sketties! Smawty wast to weave nestie, even poopie fwuffies hewe wike nice mistah say!”
“Huh, what’s the deal with the teeth? Your lack of them I mean.”
“huuuu Bad mistah in owd housie take Smawty thooties fow nuh wetting mistah take babbies.”
Sayisfied, you put him back down and move the left over wood plank to cover their entrance, in the off chance there’s still fluffies inside, you believe they will die of hunger soon without a way out…
“You guys wait here, I’m going to get more sketties because there’s so many of you.”
You go to the porch and take your camera out, you take the rope out of Moxie’s collar and guide her close to the herd.
A single turn and they’re in sight.
“Go Moxie! Get them!”
She runs towards them and they let a chorus of screams, you close your eyes waiting for the sound of carnage…
“bork huff”
“coooooo”
“Wub bawkie! Fwuffy give bestest tummy kissies.”
“Bawky fwiend wan sketti too?”
“Nuh be scawed babbies, Bawky am bestest fwiend!”
(What? What the fuck?)
Opening you eyes you see Moxie on her back surrounded by micro fluffies, they mob her with hugs and scratches, her tail wagging so fast you’re afraid she’s gonna sprain it.
She’s just laying there with a dumb look on her face as she is love bombed by a hundred hamster sized balls of fur.
“Moxie.” You call and she wiggles out to stand up and goes to you. “You…you guys are not afraid of her?” You ask the Smarty after picking him up again.
“Bawky save hewd fwom munstah humin an’ hissie munstas! Bawky is bestest fwiend of whowe hewd!”
You pinch your nose at that, as you look down, you notice some of the fluffies got bored and where walking away before Moxie went and started living up to her breed’s name.
“Oh my fu…, this is so fucking bullshit, I can’t believe it.”
You’d noticed Moxie was happier than usual the last week… and you do have excess grass since you’ve been too lazy to mow it…
“I can’t believe It…” Something else enters your mind. “Hey, where are you all pooping?”
“Hewd make gud poopies in poopie pwace, poopie fwuffies num gud poopies an cwean bad poopies fow makin’ nestie smeww pwetty.”
“Okay, how about you guys poop OUTSIDE and the brown fluffies clean any shit that is inside the nest? If you guys do this I can let you keep living here, but if there’s poop under my house I’ll throw you on the street, OKAY!?”
“huuuu Pwease wet hewd wive in nestie Daddeh! Onwy make gud poopies in gwassies! Smawtie pwomiss!”
Two Weeks Later.
Things are going better than you had hoped, Moxie is happier and has been having more exercise, the grass ain’t being a problem, no more hearing things, and you don’t even need to clean poop everyday, the fluffies eat the dog’s poop, and what little they make you push into the bushes as fertilizer.
And nothing in your life really changed, maybe in winter you’ll have to get them some food… or maybe just tell them to gather leaves? And to not have foals when it’s cold?
You wonder if you can get away with not really doing anything for them, and there’s so many. So what if a lot die in winter? They can just get their numbers up again…
_
Guys, I need help choosing what story to finish next cause I’m an indecisive little bitch:
Number 1, Comensalism : Sea fluffies riding on the backs of whalesharks, suffer predation from eels due to their curiosity when going to feed.
Number 2, Amensalism : Feral fluffies living in a small city deal with raccoons and crows.
Number 3, Calm : A lone bowl fluffy mother does her best for her foals in a slow creek.
(Done) Number 4, Simple : A divorced man has to take care of a fluffy his daughter gifted him,trying to keep the thing happy and under control with the least effort on his part.
(Done) Number 5, On Demand : Foals go from a can to the torture table as a streamer uses miniature torture instruments requested by the audience. (Give me ideas for that too please and I’ll credit you)
