Chapter 4
Adam had been enjoying his time with the two angora fluffs, documenting their growth. He wrote down the little notes in a notebook or his phone taking pictures, and would type it up in an official report later. There weren’t any big changes, just the note that Pablo and Ruth would tolerate water better than fluffies. It wasn’t that they liked water, they just hated to be dirty more than they hated water. They much preferred water and shampoo instead of their tongues.
One part of the routine they all immensely enjoyed was the daily brushing. Daily was a must, but they’d brush more if needed. Adam took his time, brushing the adorable fluffy’s fluff, hearing them coo as they were brushed then pet.
“Pabwo wuv daddeh.” Pablo said after one of the brushings set to Adam’s side, looking up at his daddeh with love in his eyes. Such trust and admiration. To Pablo, his daddeh was the bestest human in the world! It wasn’t like the Mill was bad, but being taken to his own housie with a nestie and toys? It was the best. Then he got a friend!
“Wuth wuv daddeh tu!” Ruth said, looking up at Adam from her spot on Adam’s lap, her fluff being brushed out. “Daddeh am bestest daddeh eva!” She told him. She wagged her floofy tail, which stirred up a tiny breeze.
Adam laughed lightly, feeling warmth in his heart. “I love you both too.” He said to them. “First fluffies I ever loved.”
Pablo looked wide eyed. “Weally, daddeh?” He asked.
Adam nodded. “I told you, didn’t I? About my stepbrother’s fluffy?“
Both fluffies nodded. “Bad fwuffy Cwark?” They asked, having come up with this name for him.
“Yes. I didn’t like fluffies for a long time after that. I was afraid to be around a fluffy because of that horrible fluffy. Then I decided I hated them.” Adam sighed. “And then I got a job at the Mill cuz they needed people to work there.” Truthfully he worked there while in college then stayed cuz of the money. “But Clark is still a horrible memory to me.”
[i]Adam had woken up after a rough night of sleep. After the failed TV time, he tried to get some sleep, but Clark the fluffy kept throwing tantrums and Brad would either console the fluffy or snap at him. Adam’s room was unfortunately right next to Brad’s and Clark’s bed sounded like it was up against the shared wall. The main problem was no nightlight, so Adam got to hear sobbing and whining all night.
The next day he was yawning and rubbing his eyes.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His mother asked as she set his breakfast before him. Waffles and eggs.
“Clark kept crying loudly all night.” Adam grumbled. “I hate that stupid thing….”
“Hate is a very strong word, Adam.” His mother chided him, then lowered her voice. “But I don’t like it either. Fluffies are…needy creatures at the best of times.”
Adam smiled a bit that his mother agreed. He knew his father already hated the fluffy. He heard him complaining about fluffies on TV all the time. He also said a lot of things about Cleveland…a place that was already gone from the map by the time he was born. Somehow fluffies took it down. Adam didn’t see how a bunch of fragile technicolor beasts could possibly take down a city…but all the adults in his life said it could and did happen. It was part of why fluffies became classified as vermin and people could kill ferals on sight.
Brad finally came down with Clark in his arms. The fluffy and teen looked haggard.
“Clark needs a night light.” Brad said in lieu of a hello. “Fluffies get scared of the dark.”
“Why didn’t you bring one with you?” Adam’s mother, Caroline, asked.
“I forgot it.” Brad said defensively. “But I need one, or Clark will keep crying.
Adam didn’t know if he could handle that many nights. He shot his mother a panicked look, but she already had a solution, as moms did.
“Use Adam’s old nightlight. It’s been in the storage room for years with his old baby toys.” Caroline said.
Adam sighed in relief.
Brad sat down and started to eat, but as his fluffy whined, he set it on the table.
Clark wasted no time, tromping across food and table alike, snarfing food off Adam’s plate.
“HEY! That’s my food!” Adam shoved the fluffy away from his plate.
“SCREEEE! Nu huwt fluffy!” Clark screamed, falling on his side, still on the table.
“Don’t hurt my fluffy!” Brad yelled, shoving Adam off his chair.
“Oof! Ow!” Adam clutched his arm. He then saw Clark take aim at him from the table.
“Take sowwy poopies, dummeh!” Clark opened fire.
Perhaps it was due to the assault of shit from the other day, but Adam moved fast enough and only ended up with the shit splattered on his pajama pants and socks rather than all over his head where it was aimed.
“BRADLEY! THAT IS ENOUGH!” Caroline shouted. “You do NOT shove your brother and you certainly do not let your fluffy eat off the table!” She yelled at him. “Now clean up all this crap and apologize to Adam.” She was red in the face, as this was going too far.
“But…he shoved my fluffy!” Brad protested.
“Adam won’t be shoving Clark anymore, but you need to control that fluffy.” She picked Clark up off the table to set him on the ground.
“SCREEEEE! WET GO, DUMMEH! STOOPIE HOOMIN! WAN NUMMIES! WAN NUMMIES! SCREEEE! SCREEEE!” Clark wiggled for all he was worth. He took off as he was put on the ground, only to run forward, his eyes closed tight. Predictably, this meant he ran right into a wall, hard enough for his nose to bleed. “SCREEE! OWIES!”
Adam looked down at his clothes. “I’m gonna clean up…” he said, nauseated by the smell. Looks like more clothes were going into the garbage…
Luckily nothing more happened that morning as Adam got ready for school. He debated shorts since it was getting warm…but there were a lot of fluffies on the way to school, and Adam had no intention of getting shit on him again. He could swear he’d never get the scent out of his nose. Hell, he actually wanted to kick a few fluffies on his way to school. Stupid, spoiled things…now he saw why they kept begging people. Give them an inch, they’d take a mile. He felt a burning anger in the pit of his stomach at these creatures.
The walk to the bus stop was only a block away, and Adam had to pass by an empty lot. It was usually used for soccer after school by the neighborhood kids, and a smoking/drinking spot of the older kids after dark. Of course, with food and people meant there were fluffies. Rats too, but people actually liked the rats now. They were less dirty than fluffies and would gnaw at them to keep the population down.
As he passed the lot, he could hear the babbling that made his teeth grit. He turned his head towards the edge of the lot, where the grass grew higher. In part because it was against the building, and partly because the city didn’t want to have to replace lawnmower from being gunked up by Fluffy parts. As fragile as they were, they wreaked havoc on machinery.
He saw a pair of fluffies, an eye watering purple with a red mane and a blue fluffy with an orange mane. He could tell the purple was the mare by how she three foals on her back. A few lumps of color in her fluff of red, the same purple as her, and a duller purple. The fluffies took notice of him, as they did with all school aged children. To them, Adam was a mark. They could beg food off him, or perhaps even get a home if they were lucky.
“Nice mista!” The mare called, waddling up to him. She was filthy, like all street fluffies. “Haf nummies fo mummah?” She asked, wagging her tail. Her mate was close behind.
“Nyu daddeh? Fwuffy jus wan housie an nestie an toysies an skettie an-“
“SHUT UP!” Adam snapped, the voice grating on him after hearing it all yesterday and this morning.
Both fluffies jumped, shitting themselves. The foals did too, now peeping in distress. The foals were mere chirpies, unable to see, but knowing their mother was distressed. They knew there was a loud, scary noise nearby.
Adam was annoyed by the peeping. “Ugh. You’re so gross!” He scowled at the fluffies. “Go away.” He used his foot to try to chase the mare away without kicking her. He wasn’t quite at the level to kick a mother an her babies.
The stallion took offense to this and tried to charge, bumping into Adam’s pant leg. Unfortunately his filthy body left a mark on Adam’s pants.
“Don’t touch me, shitrat!” He said, using that term for the first time, and booting the stallion away from him. The stallion went flying as if he weighed nothing. Adam was frankly surprised. He wasn’t THAT strong. He was an athletic child who played soccer with his peers, but he was far from a rising soccer star. The fluffy flew almost halfway across the lot, landing hard with a “SCREEEEEE!”
Adam went over tentatively, gasping to see all four of the stallion’s legs were broken. He felt sick. He hadn’t meant to do that…he just wanted the thing away from him! He didn’t know he could kick it that far or that it’d break it’s legs from the fall!
The stallion looked down at his broken legs. “W-weggies! Nuuu! Nee weggies fo huggies! Whewe weggies gu?!”
The mare was wide eyed and peed herself. “M-munsta!” She screamed and ran, trying to get away from Adam. In her haste, her foals dropped off her back, the softer purple one crushed beneath it’s neon sibling. “Huuuhuuu! Sowwy babbehs! Am tu scawy!”
“What the….you’re leaving your kids!?” Adam was stunned. What kind of animal just…left their kids like that!? Adam contemplated what he should do to the foals, and decided he’d just have to take them with him. He’d ask a teacher at school. He emptied his soft lunch box, carefully placing the food and water bottle into his backpack before putting the foals in the soft bag like container. He closed the flap, glad there was some breathing room for them. He put his backpack on his back before continuing the journey to school.
At school, he went to a teacher first thing. “Mr. Smith!” He called to his teacher, waving his hand almost frantically.
Mr. Smith was a balding man with brown hair and thick black glasses. He was tall but fairly built, wearing a suit jacket and slacks over a white shirt, though that jacket often ended up lost somewhere by the end of the day. He smiled a bit as Adam waved him down. “What is it, son?” He addressed the youngster in a friendly voice.
Adam took his lunch box out. “I found these on the way to school.” He said, opening it for the teacher to see.
Mr. Smith managed not to recoil. “Oh…fluffies. Adam, these are vermin. Kill on sight. Why didn’t you stomp on them?” He asked.
Adam winced. “I dunno…” He explained what happened earlier, and how he felt sick after kicking the father stallion.
Mr. Smith nodded. “I know what to do. We’ll have a special science class today.” he said. “Remember, fluffy are vermin. If you let one or two go because you feel sorry for them, you might as well have created hundreds.”
Adam went wide eyed. Hundreds? Just by letting one go? He was about to ask but his teacher held up a hand.
“Science class, Adam. All will be explained. You might want to get a new lunch box too. Fluffies are filthy creatures.” He reminded him.
School was same as usual, but Adam was tense. What were they going to do with the fluffies in science class? He’d noticed Mr. Smith leave the school during lunch and a break…coming back with a box. What was that about? Finally science class arrived, and Adam noticed a box atop of the teacher’s desk, peeping coming from it. That was way more than the two he picked up.
Adam took his seat behind one of the lab tables, noticing there were trays with scalpels just as Mr. Smith spoke.
“Welcome to science, children. Today…we’re going to talk about fluffies…and even do a dissection!” He claimed.
Adam felt himself tense. Dissection sounded kinda cool…but learning more about fluffies? He’d see how this would go.
Mr. Smith smiled at his class from the lab table up front. It was a standard lab desk, made for two students, black top, drawers on the bottom, sinks at one end of the table. There was a hole covered with a cap where gas valves could be, but nobody trusted elementary schoolers with access to them, so they long removed.
Adam’s two fluffies and reluctance to smash them inspired him. These kids needed to learn these fluffies were vermin and not to be spared. He had to teach them to kill ferals on sight. During the student’s lunch, he’d gone out, collecting feral foals from the few lots or alleys around the school. He didn’t have to go far, as they mostly congregated around dumpsters. He soon had enough foals, a mix of chirpies and talkies, for the whole class as well as some extras for demonstrations…or if the fun ended too early for a student or two.
“Everyone, grab a foal.” He said, opening the box. There were a few cries of “Nyu daddeh?” And “Whewe babbeh?” The students approached, some eager, some timid.
Adam reached in at random, pulling out a dark green fluffy with a shit brown mane. Its blue eyes were open and it smiled at Adam.
“Nyu daddeh?” He asked, and curled towards Adam’s thumb, trying to hug and nuzzle it.
Adam made a face and dropped the thing on his tray when he got to it.
“Screee! Owies! Wai huwt babbeh? Babbeh am for huggies and wuv!” The babbeh cried. He saw his new daddeh wasn’t paying attention and kept trying to tap his arm for attention. “Daddeh? Daddeh? Daddeh!” The foal kept getting louder until Adam growled.
“Shut up! I’m trying to listen!” He snapped at the foal.
The foal burst into tears. “Huuuhuuuhuuu! Daddeh hate babbeh!” The foal sobbed, practically collapsing into a pool of tears.
Adam saw now why people tended to stomp the things. They were annoying when they started talking and looking around.
Mr. Smith took out a foal for himself. It was a blue chirpy with a white mane. “Lesson one. This is a foal. They’re known as chirpies at this stage.” He said. “They cannot see, only communicate by chirping for their parents. All they can do at this stage is drink milk, use the bathroom, and move their heads around. Some can slowly drag themselves, but this is rare. They are also exceedingly fragile.” Mr. Smith readjusted his grip to hold the fluffy by only the front left hoof.
The foal’s chubby body was too much to be held by the delicate skin and muscle of his arm. The foal’s arm ripped from its body, the chirpie landing hard on its rear.
“SCREEEEEEE!” Though it was tiny, the sound was nearly piercing. It was disturbing the other foals, looking for the source of the sad, hurt babbeh. Several had shit themselves in fear from the loud noise.
Mr. Smith used a little straightened paper clip, jamming the end through the foal’s muzzle to shut it up. “As you can see, they scream like that when they are hurt. If you keep going, some chirpies can be forced into early speech and sight.” He said. “Class, gather round, and we’ll see what the eyes look like when not yet developed. The chirpies keep their eyes closed until they’re ready to see, much like kittens and puppies.”
Adam moved forward with the class, getting a front row seat…or rather a stand.
Mr. Smith used some tweezers he had. Using one hand to hold the chirpie in place, he used the tweezers to open the foal’s right eyelid.
The eye was cloudy, not yet ready to see. The harsh lights of the classroom damaged the still developing eye permanently. The chirpie was trying to peep up a storm, but only muffled chirps emerged from its forcibly closed mouth.
“Now I’ll show you how to dock the tail and cork your foal. You should do this before you get cutting. Wouldn’t want any of you to deal with a messy accident.” Mr. Smith chuckled, seeing a few students shudder. It looked like they knew precisely what he meant. He turned the chirpie over and took his scalpel. “Now…you’ll want to get the base of the tail, but careful to not cut the body.” Mr. Smith stretched out the white tail, then carefully cut through it, the foal’s flesh and bone rending easily. The foal’s opened eye widened as the eye nearly bulged out. A muffled scream attempted to escape the foal. A puddle of pee spread out around it. “Hm…right, I suppose we’ll need to take care of that as well.” He said. He got a small cork, which looked more like a mechanical pencil eraser dispenser, and stuffed one of the corks up the fluffy’s rear. “If you’ve got a girl, be mindful you stuffed it up the right hole.” He said. “As for the other…just use a glue stick. The fluffies are so fragile that even a gluestick’s glue can keep them closed.”
The teacher grinned. “After the docking and corking…we’ll have a proper dissection.”
Adam returned to his seat. The foals on the table couldn’t see what happened. Though Adam turned to hear a groan from a student.
“Mr. Smith! My fluffy jumped! It’s dead!” He whined, the orange foal indeed little more than a splat on the floor.
Mr. Smith sighed. “That’s why I brought extras.” He said. “They’re extraordinarily dumb creatures. They die too fast and too easily.”
Adam turned to his subject. He pinned it down.
“Nyu gamsie?” The foal giggled not resisting.
Adam ignored this, grabbing a tiny cork and shoving it into the foal’s rear.
“EEEE! NU AM MAWE!” The fluffy screamed. He heard the screams of other foals experiencing the same. “W-wai huwt babbeh?” He pleaded as he was turned over. Suddenly something touched his nu nu stick! “Nu towch nu nu stick!” He pleaded, trying to cover it with his hooves.
“Why would I want to touch it? It’s puny.” Adam jeered.
“N-nu am tiny!” The foal said defensively, though he wasn’t sure why.
Next was…the tail docking. Adam kept the fluffy pinned down, though his little legs wiggled for all they were worth.
“Wai weggies nu work!? Weggies! Take fwuffy way fwom munsta!” The fluffy begged of his legs, which did not listen to him.
Adam brought his scalpel down, but the fluffy moved, meaning Adam got an uneven cut, getting a good three quarters of the tail off.
“SCREEEEEEEE!” The fluffy screamed, blood leaking out, splattering as the reminder of the tail flopped about. “PWETTY TAIW!”
“Ugh! Hold still!” Adam used a finger to press the base of the tail down, then cut off the rest of it. “There.” He tossed the pieces into the corner of the tray. He then turned the fluffy on its back, letting its legs splayed out in standard dissection mode before looking at the teacher. He felt the foal try to hug his hand, so he gave the fluffy a little jab with his fingers in the stomach.
“Kaf! Kaf!” The foal coughed from the jab to his belly.
Mr. Smith smiled as the tail docking was done. Many of the colts had screamed about not being mares, and all fluffies had complaints when it came to gluing their privates shut. That was an uncomfortable moment for all of them, no matter the gender of the student.
“All ready? Okay. Get your pins out for the limbs. Don’t want those to get in the way.”
Adam looked at the four sharp pins. Longer and thicker than sewing needles, yet thinner than camping stakes. He took one in his hands and stretched the foal’s front left hoof from his body. After a moment of hesitation, he drove it in, though the foal’s leg, into the rubbery bottom of the tray, rubbery for the purpose of holding the needle in place.
“SCREEEEEEEE! OWIES!” The foal screamed.
Adam gave the foal a little smack on the nose, which silenced it, though the foal still sobbed. He took the second needle, driving it through the other front hoof, causing another scream. The other needles were put in in quick succession.
“WEGGIES! NU!” The foal tried to wiggle, only for his legs to not listen to him.
After the students had pinned down the legs of the foals, they looked to the teacher. The room was filled with the sounds of small creatures crying.
“Now…we make the first cut, down the front of the fluffy.” He demonstrated, tilting the tray so the students could see. A long cut was made down the foal’s front, blood streaming out. “You’ll want to then get just the tip of the scalpel under the skin….and pull.” Mr. Smith gave it a pull, and part of the flfufy’s skin came off.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” The fluffy screamed, its eyes bulging.
One boy passed out, while another girl looked green, retching. Two boys were tasked with taking the boy to the nurse’s office, while the girl’s friend helped her there.
“There’s always a few.” Mr. Smith said, having known the number would drop. Not everyone was cut out for dissection.
Adam turned his attention to his foal, who was now wide eyed. It seemed the foals had caught on that something was wrong. This was not a place of love and hugs but pain and death. Adam took his scalpel, and glanced over at the table next to him.
The boy at the next table had a look of glee on his face. He dangled the scalpel over the foal, who pitifully tried to wiggle away. The boy would occasionally poke the foal with the blade, laughing as the foal either screamed or let out a peep. On the other side of Adam, he noticed a girl already skinning her fluffy, the creature peeping and chirping, though it was about as big as Adam’s foal.
With a sigh, he set about his work. He slowly cut down the foal’s middle as it screamed. He had a bit of trouble skinning the fluffy, but he got a good strip of fur and skin, which he set aside. Mr. Smith came by, inspecting their work, giving tips if the work was a bit sloppy. When he came by Adam, he nodded. “Sometimes the skin is hard to peel in one piece. The technique was good, but you did cut too deep a few times.” He told the young boy.
The next technique was opening up the fluffy and pinning the muscle to the board, keeping it open for them. Adam did this with slightly shaky hands, ignoring the fluffy screaming. As he opened the foal up, he saw lungs expanding and shrinking rapidly, its little heart beating, other organs pulsing.
“Sick…” Adam said, a mix between revulsion and curiosity.
“P…pwease…stahp…” the foal begged of Adam. “B…babbeh….dunno wat du….bu….pwomise neva…du gain…” the foal had a hard time speaking with the state it was in.
Adam paused. Acting like it did something wrong. His scalpel wavered.
“Wan die. Wan…die. …Wan die.” The babbeh began repeating in a labored voice.
Adam flinched, feeling a wave of revulsion wash over him. What was he doing!? This was…sick. He quickly used the tip of the scalpel to cut into the foal’s heart, ending it. He saw the foal die, and sighed, the rest of his dissection going quietly. Adam still felt quite conflicted with what he was doing.
What the young boy did not know was that the next disaster would be waiting at home.
[/i]
Of course Adam did not tell his angoras this. It was far too graphic, but he did tell them his teachers when he was little didn’t like fluffies either. That they tried to make him hate fluffies. It kind of worked, not that he’d tell his fluffies that to their face. “Alright. Bath time for you both.” He said.
Pablo and Ruth made noises of displeasure, but they followed Adam. Being clean was better than being wet.
Adam knelt beside the tub, starting to fill it with water and nice smelling bubbles. He would make sure the water never went above belly level for the little fluffs. When the water was ready, he lifted each fluffy carefully around the middle, the way they liked to be lifted up.
“Wheeee! Upsies!” Pablo cried. “Pabwo fwy!” He was then set into the water. Any fear was chased away by the bubbles. Pablo giggled, using his little hooves to pop and play with the bubbles.
Ruth was picked up next. “Wuth wuv upsies!” She said, waggling her little hooves. She was placed into the water, also soon distracted by the bubbles. She leaned her face in, eeeping as a bubble popped in front of her. “Whewe bubbwe fwien gu?” She asked, looking for it.
“That’s what bubbles do, Ruth. They pop.” He said, popping another big one for emphasis. “It doesn’t hurt them. The bubbles aren’t alive.”
Ruth was grinning, and prancing around on a mission to pop as many bubbles as possible.
Adam decided Pablo would be washed first. He began to lather Pablo’s long fur with the angora shampoo, made to detangle their long, silky fur without pain. Adam took his time, giving Pablo a little massage as he lathered the fur.
Pablo closed his eyes, cooing from the feel. His back leg thumped against the tub like a happy bunny. “Pabwo wuv smell pwetty.” He said.
“Yeah? You’re gonna smell and look pretty. You and Ruth both.” He told Pablo. “Go play a bit.” He said. “The smell pretty needs to stay on you a little to work.” It was easier than explaining it needed to set. He called Ruth over. “You can pop bubbles after. We gotta get smell pretty on you.” He liked their cutesy little word for shampoo. Adam chuckled a bit. How’d he get this way? He hated most of the fluffies at his job…and yet these particulate kinds carved a way into his heart. He began to wash Ruth, who was more wiggly and impatient. “You really love those bubbles, huh?” He asked, thinking maybe he should get a bubble wand or bubble machine to play with her.
“Wuth wuv bubbles! Wuv daddeh and wuv Pabwo!” She said, looking up at Adam with earnest, loving eyes.
“I love you too Ruth. And I love Pablo.” Adam said, feeling touched. Of course pets loved their owners, but hearing them say it was a whole new thing.
After letting the fluffies play while the shampoo set, he began to rinse them off, careful to keep sudsy water from getting into their eyes. “There we go.” He said. A quick conditioning, and he was soon using a blow dry. “Remember. This is loud, but it can’t hurt you.” He said. They did flinch when it was turned on, but Adam used it on his hair to show them it didn’t hurt. He had it on the cool setting, and began to dry them gently, brushing them. The angora fluffies looked their absolute best out of a bath, cleaned and brushed. “My little fluffies are so pretty now.” He said, giving them both a hug to his chest.
Pablo and Ruth giggled, hugging Adam back, the still growing angora fluffs still small and both able to fit in his arms. “Tomorrow…we’re gonna have a big day.” He told them. “I’m taking you both to the vet.”
Pablo’s ears went down. “Buh…vet gib pointy owies….” He said. He and Ruth had gotten their shots last visit.
“No pointy owies this time.” Adam promised. “They have to make sure you don’t have any owies we can’t see.” He told them. “I go to a human vet sometimes. It’s not fun, but I don’t want to have bad owies. Trust me. I wouldn’t want my fluffies to get hurt.”
Ruth slowly nodded. “Otay…” she said. “Wuth twust daddeh.” She said.
“Pabwo twust daddeh tu.” He said.
“Great. Its time for bed.” Adam carried the fluffies to the bed and began to read them a bed time story. He was careful with what fairy tale he read to them. Though Adam grew up on the Grimm brothers fairy tales…that was too much for the fluffies. He chose nicer tales, always with a happy ending. There were plenty fluffy friendly ones online. The two fluffies were asleep, curled in a fluff pile in their nestie before he even finished the story.