“So did you hear about Margaret?” Nick looked up from his phone, irritated. He and Bill were driving back to the contracting firm, just having finished a roofing job. Nicks recent hunts had been turning up empty, without even a trace of fluffy shit to be seen. Bill was a good boss, but his penchant for small talk could be a bit annoying. “No, what’s up with her?” Bill smiled. “She wants to expand her garden to half an acre. Apparently she took in a herd of feral fluffies!” Nick stopped browsing through forums, attention fully focused on Bill now. “A feral herd?” Bill chuckled. “She got this idea in her head that she can teach the little idiots to garden! Thomas was surprised at how well they could shovel shit.”
Nick quickly opened the notes app on his smartphone, fully invested in the conversation. “How did they get in? Break through a weak part of the fence?” Bill shook his head. “Nah, Margaret fluffy proofed the whole fence soon as she heard the little shits were hitting the Oregon trail moving west. Turns out that don’t mean shit if you leave the gate open.” Nick quickly typed it down. “How many?” “From what Thomas said, around eight, but three of them are pregnant so may be at twelve or sixteen by now.” Nick swore quietly under his breath. A fucking herd of eight meant they had gone unchecked for too long.
Nick attempted to remain casual and uninterested as he continued to banter with Bill. “Any clue where they came from?” Bill shrugged. “Think Thomas said they came from the old woods; don’t know where else they could have come from either.” Bill sighed. “Wonder how they managed to ever become such a pain in the ass, given how dumb they are.” Nick had already stopped listening, however.
How could Nick have been so stupid? While rats were frequent around cities, of course they could live in the woods too. The same goes for shitrats. He made a note to go inspect the forest tonight. Nick wanted to ask Bill further questions, but his boss had already gone into his sports monologue and Nick knew it was pointless to do anything but nod and grunt in agreement every couple minutes. The drive back was pretty uneventful from that point onwards, but Nicks mind raced with possibilities and worries.
Nick didn’t even bother to shower when he got home, immediately grabbing his equipment and running out the door, hopping in his truck and speeding off to the forest. Turning off the paved highway and on to the gravel road that led to the forest, Nick was conflicted. On one hand, he desperately needed subjects to test the derping process on, but on the other he was hopeful that all the fluffies had been wiped out. If there was a large herd remaining, Nick would be hard pressed to kill them all, and with so many avenues of escape it was nearly guaranteed at least some could escape. And an escaped fluffy meant there was a chance it could form a new herd.
Nick reached the barren plot of dirt that functioned as a parking lot for the small forest trail. He had only been here once back when he was a young child, relatively long ago, at least long before the fluffies made it to Kansas. Parking his truck on the side of the road, Nick flipped his goggles on, clipped his tool bag to his belt, and began his trek into the forest.
The first hour was uneventful. He found the tracks of a herd leading out of the woods, but it was clear they were old, faded by the light breeze coming from between the trees. There were clumps and tufts of multicolored fluff caught in roots and shrubs, as well as odd stacks of twigs and pebbles, perhaps markers left by the creatures to navigate the forest.
After around an hour and a half with no signs of fluffies besides long dead bones and fading tracks, Nick was about to lose hope when he came upon the first corpse.
Stepping over a low shrub Nick felt a wet crunch beneath his foot. Looking down, he saw the corpse of a fluffy, a pink and white unicorn with a red mane, clearly a deluxe Valentine’s Day special pony. It was relatively fresh; judging from the state of decomposition Nick estimated it was at most four days old. It had been eviscerated, its entrails lying in a pile behind it. Shame, its colors would have fetched Nick a good amount if he had captured it live.
Nick encountered more and more corpses as he trekked through the dark woods, all in varying stages of decomposition. The freshest looked to be two days old, which Nick was confident meant that fluffies were still living nearby. His confidence turned to confirmation as he reached a large, barren clearing deep in the forest. The clearing had been turned into the herd litterbox, droppings liberally scattered about. Many of the droppings were old, but there was a set that was exceptionally fresh, as Nick watched the ass of the fluffy that made them quickly disappear into the grass on the other side of the clearing. Nick crouched low, trying to ignore the rancid smell of shit as he did, tracking the fluffy through the tall, coarse underbrush.
Upon reaching a second clearing, the fluffy, who Nick could now see was a male pegasus, stopped and looked furtively around the clearing before disappearing into a large, wide hole in between the roots of an ancient oak tree. Apparently they had taken over the old den of a long dead badger or coyote. Nick snuck up close to the tree, just able to hear the fluffies inside conversing.
“Qwiet fwends, dewe am munstah nearby!” Nick heard a mare gasp in terror followed by the chirping of foals. Jackpot. “Mabbeh fwuffies shouwd go find Bumbwah’s hewd, twee pwace am nu safe nao.” Nick heard the stallion sigh. “Nu know whewe Bumbwah went, an’ it nu am safe fo’ dah babbehs ta go walksies, dah swoopy munstahs am awound, Gowdwick saw dem when makin poopies.” A different stallion voice spoke up, this one with a heavy rasp. “Fwuffies nu can stay hewe. Fwuffy say dat hewd shouwd weave nex’ bwite time an’ wook fow new nestie. Nu gud nummies weft hewe anyways, onwy icky gwass nummies.” There was a murmur of agreement amongst the rest of the herd. The pegasus from before spoke again. “Otay, hewd weave nestie next bwite time to fin’ new nesties an’ mummahs and daddehs. Get wotsa sweepies, need be weady fo’ wotsa walkies!” Nick heard the fluffies rustling around, getting comfortable in a fluffpile he assumed, before the sounds stopped, replaced by tiny snores.
As much as Nick wanted to just cover the burrows entrance, he needed the foals, and perhaps the mother, for the lab. And as long as he was going to capture them, might as well catch them all. His truck was big enough to carry over a dozen fluffies, and it was very unlikely there were more than six in there judging from the snoring he could hear. Luckily, he had the day off tomorrow. There was really not much work to be done in the small town, and Bill only really called him in when they had a large job planned. Still, he got a generous hourly rate, and Bill lent him the house on the condition he fixed the place up, so he had a lot of disposable income.
Nick checked his watch. 10:26 pm. He had plenty of time to drive home to prep some things before sunrise, even if he were to take a power nap. Nick walked back to his truck and began the drive home, stopping by Harold’s store to pick up some energy drinks and cheap kibble. Harold was a good man, and one of the only people who seriously heeded Nick’s warnings about trash cans. He also never asked questions, which was fine by Nick.
At his house, Nick set up an old, empty room in the far corner of the house as a room for the fluffies, setting a litterbox in the corner and filled two trays with food and water respectively. He tossed in a few old dog toys he had found when he first moved in before carting the old space heater from the garage into a corner of the room. Perfect.
Inside the laboratory, Nick set up a large dog cage as a home for the foals, and their mother if possible Nick thought to himself, but he had no qualms killing her if she put up any sort of fuss with the accommodations. Nick finished up the preparations sooner than he had expected, deciding to take a short shower followed by a power nap. He drifted to sleep, alarms set, and a smug smile on his face in anticipation of his imminent success.
FUCK. Nick had overshot his alarm and slept until six in the morning. The sun would soon rise, and with it, the fluffies would depart. Quickly donning his steel-toed boots, he raced out the door, doubling back for the old can of spaghetti he had left on the kitchen counter. He sped off towards the forest, the sky tinged orange with the rising sun.
Nick walked quickly through the forest, retracing his steps to reach the burrow. Crouching in the grass, Nick could hear the snores of the fluffies coming from the den. All that was left for Nick to do was wait. And wait. And wait. Nick had severely overestimated their interpretation of ‘morning.’
It was ten in the morning before the first fluffy finally left the burrow, the pegasus stallion from last night, who Nick could see in the light was a monochromatic deep blue. He looked around carefully, completely missing Nick hiding only three yards away. “Come out fwends! Nu am munstahs neawby!”
Out of the den came three more fluffies. The first was a gray and black unicorn, with an ugly gash across his neck. While the fluffy healing factor may have saved its life, it didn’t heal properly. The skin was horribly scarred and bright red; it would be a miracle if he survived the infection. Nick wrote him off as a lost cause.
Next out was another unicorn, a pink and red filly, possibly the child of the corpse Nick had seen last night. She trembled with every step she took, constantly looking around in fear. Clearly she had seen some shit. Nick smiled. Putting her into the ‘wan die’ loop would take little effort.
Finally, the mare from last night exited. Nick’s mouth fell agape. The earthy was white with a rainbow mane, easily worth thousands. She hadn’t chosen her mate well though. Two of the foals she carried on her back were pretty ugly. The largest was a sky blue earthy with a dark brownish red mane. Its sibling was its inverse, a light blue mane on a dark reddish brown body. The last had Nick seeing dollar signs. Light blue unicorn with a rainbow mane. While not as desirable as it would have been had it been a pegasus, the colors would fetch an incredibly high price. And as much as he hated the idea of letting the shitrats live, the money he would make from their sale would far outweigh any amount of research he could get from the two.
Nick pulled out his Leatherman and flipped open the can opener. The fluffies turned to look towards the noise in fear, seeing the tall teenager leaning against the tree, tearing the lid off a can of spaghetti. Nick mimed as though he was eating from the can, pretending to ignore the fluffies staring at him.
“Hewwo nice mistah!” the blue pegasus spoke first, trotting up to Nick. Nick feigned surprise. “I didn’t see you all there! Hello!” The fluffies trotted up to Nick, any hint of their previous wariness dispelled by the scent of cheap marinara. Nick forced a smile. “How can I help you adorable little ponies today?” “Pwease mistah! Can fwuffy haf sketties to make bestest miwikies fo’ babbehs?” The white pony spoke through a mouthful of drool, spraying some onto Nick as she spoke. Disgusting.
“Hmmm… I guess so. Here, give me a second.” Nick poured a bit of the spaghetti from the can into his hand, making sure to get one of the three meatballs included. Holding it out to the mare, Nick barely managed to suppress a gag as the mare began to eat from his hand. “Can Quentin haf sketties too?” The raspy voiced unicorn asked him, his chin dripping with saliva. “Sure little buddy, of course you can!” Nick shuddered a bit as he felt the mares tongue dart between his fingers, seeking out any traces of marinara. Satisfied with her meal, she trotted back to feed her babies as Nick poured a measure of spaghetti into his hand for the scarred unicorn. This went on until each of the four had eaten their fill from Nick’s hand.
Nick smiled a warm, fake smile. “You know, you’re all such lovely, well behaved fluffies. Would you like to come home with me? I can find you new mommies and daddies!” The fluffies all gasped in joy, quickly agreeing. Nick grinned. Gullible to the last.
The fluffies followed Nick in a convoy, babbling happily among each other about inane things that Nick quickly tuned out. They grew solemn and quiet each time they passed a corpse, but quickly returned to their rambling after the body was out of sight. They continued in this fashion until they reached Nick’s truck. Nick quickly checked the trunk to be sure there were no traces of any previous occupants before turning to the herd. “Alright friends, I need you to go poop before we get in the truck ok?” Nick had no desire to scrape shit out of the back of his truck. He had made the mistake once before, never again.
The fluffies dutifully pooped as Nick requested, before lining up in front of him again. Nick lifted them carefully into the truck before raising the tail gate. “Alright friends, it’s going to be a bumpy ride, ok? Just hold on, there’s a lot of yummy food waiting for you at my house, so behave until we get there ok?” He didn’t bother to wait for their response, hopping in the cab and beginning the ride home, taking the turns a little more carefully than usual. He was carrying valuable merchandise after all.
Upon reaching the old ranch house that Bill had lent him, Nick hefted the trembling fluffies out of the truck carrying them to the safe room. Nick didn’t bother responding to their wows of amazement and thanks. They wouldn’t last. He called the mother over to him, managing to convince her to sit still with her rainbow maned baby, snapping a photo of the two. He left the room without another word, securely latching the door behind him. Unfortunately, to maximize profits he would have to postpone ‘research’ for a bit, fluffies traumatized by humans tend to lose a lot of value.
Nick poured himself a bowl of cereal as he created the mare and babies listings on Fluffbay, one of the many sites used for fluffy resale. Now all he had to do was sit back and wait for the offers to come rolling in.
Nick continued throwing glances over at the herd playing ball in Margaret’s backyard. He was incredulous. She claimed that she had taught them to work, which Nick believed was complete bullshit. While the field looked as though it had been plowed by an amateur, which could just be the arthritic attempts of the ancient crone, Thomas and Margaret claimed it had been done by fluffies using the small plow Thomas had built. Thomas had also claimed to see the fluffies cleaning their shit from the garden, but even Nick could force a fluffy to eat its own shit.
What Nick was most interested in was the claims that the fluffies were both willing and able to pull a plow and plant seeds. But as much as he wanted to kidnap one and interrogate it, stealing from your boss’s mother in law was a bad idea, especially when your boss is also the one who rents you your house, and you are the only possible suspect within the town. There was one way to confirm the old hag’s words, however.
While on break, Nick ordered a battery powered camera that advertised a seven day battery life, marketed towards people monitoring rarely sighted endangered species, but perfect for his purposes. The price was steep, but the offers he’d already received for the two fluffies would pay for half a dozen cameras. Nick decided screw it, adding expedited delivery to the package… Anything for science. Anything.