Having worked at her local Fluff-Mart for many years now, Kathy Parker had learnt to tell a good customer from a bad one just from hearing the bell above the door ring when someone opened the door, the louder the bell, the worse the customer.
Today’s bell was one of the loudest she had heard in a while, and she was so close to her lunch-break.
Putting on her best fake smile, she took her place at the front-desk and looked over towards the approaching customer, a burly man with an old carrier cage in his hands. Immediately she knew what the problem was; this was Mr Edwards, a construction worker looking for a birthday present for his daughter, Kathy’s friend Lizzy had sold him one of their new ‘Soon-Mummah Supwise’ products – a pregnant mare with basically a lucky dip on what colour foals came out of her.
Lizzy told Kathy after the transaction that she got the sense Mr Edwards didn’t have a lot of first-hand knowledge on Fluffies, the two of them had been waiting for his return all week. The fact that he took five days to return was a lot more than either of them had expected.
“YOU!” Mr Edwards barked, pointing a large finger at Kathy. “What the hell kinda trick are you people pulling here?”
“Hi Mr Edward, glad to see you again. What can I help you with today?”
“Don’t play smart with me girl, this place sold me a broken toy and I want someone to pay.”
Mr Edwards dropped the cage onto the countertop, rattling the whole thing with its sudden jolt. The yellow mare inside the cage yelped and started crying.
“Huuuu, Buttacup nu am toysie, am Fwuffy, am mummah, babbehs need deiw mummah.”
Kathy made a mental note that the now no-longer pregnant Buttercup was missing her foals and turned to Mr Edwards.
“What seems to be the problem Mr Edwards, start from the beginning.”
Mr Edwards looked annoyed at having to explain himself, but he took a deep breath and told his story.
“I took this… THING home for my daughter, at first she loved it, played with it, fed it, even brushed that mangy excuse for hair. Then it shat out five more of the wretched things, called them ‘babies’, kept asking for more food to feed them, what sort of toy ASKS to be feed that much?”
Kathy felt a hollowness in her gut that was growing with every word out of Mr Edwards mouth.
“Well… the thing is Mr Edwards, technically speaking Buttercup is a BioToy, she’s a crossbreed of a toy and a pet and should be treated with…”
“Oh spare me the sales pitch, your TOY is broken, the damn thing bit my daughter.”
“I assure you Mr Edwards, Fluffy teeth are not designed to cause any lasting harm or…”
“LISTEN! I DON’T care about ‘lasting harm’, I care that it bit my daughter at all, it’s a broken, vicious product and I want it put down now.”
Kathy looked down at Buttercup, this timid, traumatised little mare, and wonder just how ‘vicious’ she could really be.
“Buttercup? Did you bite your little mummy?”
Buttercup turned around in her cage, her tear stained face brightened a little to see the familiar visage of Kathy, but then the memory of the last few days came flooding back to her.
“Huu, Buttacup nu mean tu be mean. Bu wittew mummah gib babbehs wowstesh scawdies, Buttacup teww wittew mummah tu be cawefuw wiv babbeh but wittew mummah nu wisten an… an… AN SHE DWOP WITTEW BABBEH, BUTTACUP SEE BABBEH GU FOWEBA SWEEPIES!”
Kathy felt her heart break for Buttercup as the memory of her child’s unnecessary death haunted her, then she felt her blood boil when Mr Edwards scoffed at her heartache.
“Is that why you bit your little mummy? Because she dropped your baby?”
Buttercup sniffed. “Nu, wittew mummah say dat babbehs am jus toysies, she nu du aneefing wong. Wen wittew mummah twy tu take udda babbeh, Buttacup gib hew nu-hoof bities. Nu wan huwt wittew mummah, jus wan hew tu weave babbehs awone. Wittew mummah teww daddeh, an he thwow Buttacup in sowwy-box. Pwease Miss Kath-ee, need gu bak, babbehs nu hab deiw mummah, need mummah fow miwkies an huggies.”
“You see?” Mr Edwards spat out. “It even admits to biting my daughter, and if an animal bites a human it needs to be put down.”
“Is she an animal Mr Edwards?”
Mr Edwards looked up at Kathy, the look on her face one of annoyance and completely-fucking-over-this. “Excuse me?”
“I asked if Buttercup was an animal. After all you’ve been calling her a toy since you got here, I was wondering when she became an animal.”
“Whe… when it bit my daughter of course.”
“Oh, so she’s a toy to play about with and throw around like nothing until she shows the slightest hint of emotion and now she’s an animal?”
“It attacked my child!”
“Because she killed one of hers! Look, you’re not the first idiot to not have a goddamn clue about Fluffies but you seriously are one of the most dense.”
“You can’t talk to me like that, I demand to speak to your manager.”
“I AM the manager nimrod, and consider this a free education. Fluffies are Animals AND Toys, you have to treat them as BOTH. Their rudimentary skills means you can play games with them, or share toys with them, even dress them up and play pretend if you want. But they are living, breathing creatures with a little thing called ‘emotions’, if you kill one of her kids in front of her, of course she’s going to act out, wouldn’t you?”
“That… that’s different, I’m a human, I only have the one child. This creature had five of the damn things, and can shit out more if it wants to”
“And she loved all of those five children equally, just as much as she’ll love the next five, her short pregnancy period does not take away from her genuine care for those foals. Now she shouldn’t have bit your daughter, that was wrong, but in her mind she was protecting her young because she just watched your daughter callously murder one of her babies.”
“But it’s just…”
“A what Mr Edwards? A toy? An animal? If she’s an animal then it’s on you to train her properly in decorum of the household, you need to feed her, bathe her, and do the same for her babies whilst teaching your daughter about playing safely with her new pets. If she’s just a toy then the bite was nothing more than a defect in her system, nothing to get this upset about, we’ll gladly give you a full refund but we’re going to need the full product back, which means we need the foals returned to us as well. Why didn’t you bring the foals with you in the first place, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Mr Edwards growled. “I wasn’t taking my daughter’s new toys away from her.”
Buttercup let out a small yelp but Kathy reached in and petted her to calm her down. “If you’re calling Buittercup and her children toys Mr Edwards, then by your own logic they are broken toys and should be returned to us. We cannot give out partial payment for a partial return, Buttercup was sold to you with her foals, and with her foals she should be returned to us, minus the cost of any more deaths that should occur. And before you get any fun ideas, we still have your card details on file Mr Edwards, we will charge you for damaged property.”
Mr Edwards was fuming, but he couldn’t find the argument to fight back with.
“You can’t do this.”
“I can Mr Edwards, it’s called A Corporation Nation, the CEOs run this country and they don’t want their name being dragged through the mud. This ends with Buttercup at your home being trained right, or in this shop where she can find a new owner, either way her intended purpose is fulfilled.”
Mr Edwards was silent for several moments, letting out nothing but a small growl. “I’ll be back with it’s brood shortly.”
With a final thud of his heavy fist on the counter, Mr Edwards turned and left, the doorbell rang even louder with him leaving as it did when he arrived. Once he was gone Kathy reached into the cage and pulled Buttercup out, cradling her as she cuddled the yellow mare against her shoulder.
“It’s ok, you’re safe now, and soon your babies will be too.”
“Wiww… wiww Buttacup git aww babbehs bak?”
“Maybe Buttercup, but you need to prepare yourself for losing some more, if this kid is as careless as you said, I dread to think what might have happened while you were here.”
Buttercup burst into tears again and pressed her face into Kathy’s shoulder, Kathy sat back down in her chair and soothed the traumatised mare, silently praying that all her foals were returned to her.
Lunch would have to wait, but if it meant helping out a poor unfortunate soul, Kathy was happy to push her downtime back a little more.
cause in their pea size intellect are “toys”