Chell considered the wall fluffy looking down at her. It had scared her more than anything ever, and yet it had just shown her the answer to the hardest puzzle ever. Anything that scary had to be a munsta, but it had helped her like a friend would. Chell had never had a friend before and she would really like to have one. Mummas also helped fluffies, but the wall fluffy couldn’t be Chell’s mummah because Chell was not a wall fluffy.
While Chell looked at the wall fluffy, the wall fluffy looked back. The wall fluffy was blurry and wobbled back and forth, sometimes twitching as it warped unnaturally. Sometimes it even disappeared completely for a moment or two. It was hard to tell, but Chell thought the wall fluffy might have been crying.
“Am waww fwuffy munsta ow fwen?” Chell asked the wall after staring at it for many forevers. She immediately regretted her action.
The wall fluffy switched from quietly watching Chell to deafening noise and frantic movement, as the screen was fed hundreds of images to display every second, with individual images rarely being displayed in full before the pixels started to shift to the next image. The visual result for Chell was the same as just setting every single red, green, and blue pixel to max brightness; a blank white screen.
The sound was not idle either, as audio representations of hundreds of thoughts played on top of each other.
Chell had voided more orifices than she knew she had by the time she made it back to her blanket.
The sounds seemed to be growing angrier and somehow even louder when suddenly everything was eerily quiet.
After a few moments of the continued silence, Chell peeked out of her blanket trepidatiously, her cheeks streaked with tears.
The wall fluffy wall was just a gray wall. For the first time, there was no sound at all coming from inside her little cube.
For the first time, Chell heard sounds from outside her cube.
Voices, many many voices. Fluffy voices, too many to count in a lifetime. Foals, stallions, smarties, chirpies, mummahs, babbehs, enfies, poopies, sleepies, 'splories, snoreies, and no-snories-forever-sleepies.
Chell was nearly overwhelmed when one voice pierced the cacophony and slowly grew louder. It was a foal screaming and it was above her.
Chell craned her neck to see a tiny newborn foal, still covered in birth fluids held high above her by the grabby claw that had brought her here.
The claw suddenly stopped, oscillating briefly before it opened, and the foal fell.
It was so high up, and it seemed to just hang in the air for a moment, its little leggies flailing. The surprise of being dropped had interrupted its scream, which returned in earnest as it fell.
Chell didn’t move, it all happened so fast; all she could do was watch the foal on its way down.
It stopped screaming when it hit the floor, and Chell could do nothing but look on in abject horror.
“Mummah” The voice was wrong. It was strained and unnatural; and it was above Chell.
Chell tore her eyes away from the dead foal and looked up. She wished she hadn’t.
Above her hung one of the grabby arms, but it was wearing the front half of a taxidermied white fluffy that had been in storage for many years too long.
‘Mummah’ was pulled out of Chell’s cube by the arm, still facing Chell with long dead eyes.
Another arm grabbed and lifted Chell and her blanket out of her cube and followed ‘mummah’.
“Come wi mummah, mummah fix ebewytink.”