Made this one just to do some more with frosting and her owner. Hope ya enjoy.
Balls of Fluff: fluffy daycare and playgroup.
7am-7pm Monday through Friday.
A perfect place for your little fluffball to play and make friends while you’re at work. Friendly staff and good nummies.
Fluffies are separated into the following groups for their comfort and safety.
Fixed Fluffies - For Adult Fluffies that are fixed. both genders may play together.
Babbehs! - weened foals are kept separate from all adult Fluffies in an extra soft baby proofed room. Even our blockies are soft.
Nursery - Mummah Fluffies and unweaned foals are kept here separate from male and non mummah female grown Fluffies.
Stallions - all nonnuetered stallions play together away from mares. Kept on opposite side of building from mares.
Mares - all grown nonspade mares play together away from stallions. Kept on opposite side of building from stallions.
For your comfort and your Fluffies safety all groups are kept in separate locked rooms away from each other.
Playground times are kept separate to prevent unwanted mishaps.
For our low low prices call 420-6969
Sign your fluffy up today!
You stare at the flyer. The place does look nice and frosting has been begging to play with other Fluffies ever since the incident last winter. Being a third generation farmer you didn’t really need anyone to watch frosting while you were at “work” but it did make you feel better seeing her happy.
“Fwosin gonna pway wif udda fwuffies in dew Daddeh?”
She says obviously excited from the passenger seat of your truck.
You’d heard about this place from your sister. She brings Frostings “cousin” Hershey here. Frosting won’t be with him as he’s with the non clipped stallions. From what I hear bitch and shithead are still alive. Gotta say I didn’t think they’d make it this long. Shit heads ass is probably gaping by now. Your sister and her husband have been feeding Hershey tiny doses of horse growth hormone. He’s about double the size of the average fluffy. Perfect deterrent from being bullied for his color.
Sniff sniff “GASP FWOSIN SMEWW HEWSHEH!”
You look at your window and see she’s right. Your sister walks up to your car with Hershey on a leash. You open the door and let Frosting out.
“FWOSIN! Hewsheh wub fwosin!”
The two give each other Huggies and bounce around.
“Am fwosin gon be in hewshehs pwaygwoup uncie Steve?”
He looks up at you. You pet him on the head.
“Sorry big guy. Frostings going in the fixed Fluffies group.”
“Aww … Hewsheh wan pway wif fwosin.”
You snap frostings leash onto her collar and the four of you walk inside. The inside is just as colorful as you figured. Murals of Fluffies playing with toys and giving Huggies line the walls.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.”
You say to your sister.
“It gets worse. You should have seen the foal room. They literally had pictures of foals dancing while pooping around the litterbox area.”
“Oh my God.”
You reply. Honestly considering how dumb Fluffies tend to be it’s probably a good thing to use pictures with foals.
You make it to the front counter. A man dressed in purple stands behind it.
“Well hello there Hershey.”
He says.
“Hewwo mistah Smiff! Hewsheh hewe foh pway wif fwens!”
“I’m sure you are bud. Just sign him in and I’ll take him back to the stallion room Jen.”
He looks at you.
“How can I help you sir?”
You smile and try to give your nicest tone.
“Hi I’m Steve. I believe we talked on the phone yesterday about my mare frosting?”
He smiles.
“Oh yes I remember. She’s going to be in the fixed fluffy room.”
He looks down at frosting.
“You’re gonna have all kinds of new friends. The fixed room is our most populated.”
Frostings eyes get wide.
“YAY! Fwosin wub Nyu fwens!”
She says kicking her legs and dancing in a circle.
“Alright sir we’re open till 7pm. You may pick her up anytime you want before then. You can just hand me her leash and she’ll be on her way.”
You hand the man her leash and kneel down to frosting.
“Be good for the daycare workers frosting. Daddy will pick you up at six.”
She still dances.
“Otay Daddeh! Fwosin be gud fwuffy! Wub ou Daddeh!”
She says as the man takes frosting and Hershey off.
You and your sister walk out.
“Man that things the size of a friggin basset hound. What are ya feeding that thing Jen? Steroids?.”
Your sister laughs.
“Technically yes and no. Matt decided that since he was technically a pony he should be able to handle a bit of horse growth hormone. Not much just a little. But hey no more bullies over him being a PoOpY fLuFfY.”
She says in a mocking tone.
You laugh.
“Yeah. If only the little shits realized he was worth twice as much as them. I had to rescue him from his own parents.”
“I know. They’re in my house remember? Ya know at first I thought it was kind of fucked up but after the first time the mom yelled at Hershey for being a bad poopy baby I got over it and had her tongue cut out too. Hershey was a little sad. No more licky cleanies.”
She shudders in disgust.
“I swear I’ll never get over those things fascination with shit. Anyways I’ll see ya later. I’ve gotta get back to the farm.”
She says bye and you both leave. Frosting being lonely isn’t the only reason you enrolled her in daycare. You’ve been finding signs of more Fluffies around your property. Some of your crop has been coming up destroyed too. Normally you’d believe it was just deer doing what deer do, but deer don’t have Red fur. You’ve found lots of multicolor fur around the carnage on your crops. Especially your prize winning strawberry patch. You’ve read stories of big herds of wild Fluffies wreaking havoc on people’s crops and you aren’t about to let it go further. Those fruits and vegetables are yours and frostings lively hood. You don’t think it’s a giant herd but definitely more than three. Unlike last time they’ve decided your crops are much better than your house.
You drive home and walk to your back room where you keep your gun safe. Your old pump shotgun was great for emergencies. Plus frosting would never be able to work the pump mechanism to chamber the first round so you left it out by your bed. You kept your other fire arms locked up. You grab your ar-15 you bought a couple years back for coyote hunting along with five full magazines.
“Really doubt it’ll take one hundred and fifty rounds to take care of this couple but better to be safe then sorry.”
You mutter to yourself closing your safe. You gear yourself up with knee high snake boots. It’s the middle of July and the snakes are everywhere. you also figure they’ll protect you from any kind of fluffy counter attack being bites and attempts to stab you with unfiled horns. You also take a backpack with snacks and water for the hike.
It’s 8 am right now. You plan to lay in wait by your strawberry patch to catch the culprits.
You consider your truck but ferals would hear you coming. You’ve hunted since you were a kid so you know how to cover large distances on foot and stay relatively quiet. Given how dumb Fluffies tend to be you should be able to sneak up on them fairly easy.
You start your treck to your strawberry patch. Constantly keeping your ears and eyes open for the little suckers.
You’re soooo excited to play with all the other Fluffies at playgroup. You begged daddeh to let you go ever since your cousin Hershey told you about it. It is a little scary though. You’ve never been away from Daddeh for this long. The nice mistah is taking you back to something called the Fixed Fluffy room. You don’t know exactly how you fix a fluffy but apparently it’s really important.
“Alright girl. Here we are. Are you excited?”
You jump and look at the nice mistah.
“Yis! Fwosin am cited ta pway wiff udda fwuffies!”
He opens the big purple door and ushers you in. It’s beautiful! The whole room is big and colorful. It smells like the bestest skettis and isn’t too warm like outside is. Immediately you’re surrounded by a bunch of Fluffies.
“Nyu fwen?”
A purple unicorn asks as it rolls a ball to you. You catch the ball and roll it back.
“Fwosin be nyu fwen! What you namesies?”
“Fwuffy am pwum! Pwum Neba see fwosin hewe befoh.”
He rolls the ball back.
“Fwosin am nyu! Am suuuu cited ta pway!”
She rolls the ball back.
“Wan pway wif bwockies?”
Plum asks
“Sure! Fwosin WUB bwockies!”
The sound of fluffy TV is loud. The opening to BABBEHS! Starts and the shelter workers turn off the TV. Probably not a good idea to let the sterilized Fluffies watch something they can’t have.
Frosting and Plum stack multicolored blocks.
After about an hour you make it to your strawberry patch. You sit in between the rows and keep perfectly still. You always knew that the ghillie suit you bought would come in handy some day. You look nothing like the strawberry plants. You’ll probably look like some kind of vengeful demon to the feral fluffies.
As you sit with your rifle you have plenty of time to think. Since the incident you’ve posted about your story on fluffy based message boards. All anomalously of course. Most seem to agree with how you handled the situation. If nothing else they found it entertaining. Some people say you got off Lucky then proceeded to send you articles of herds breaking into people’s yards and mutilating their pet Fluffies and trying to take their “wand”. You don’t quite know what you’d do if any feral fucker ever hurt frosting. This is why you’re doing this. As long as you’re vigilant it won’t happen. Suddenly you hear something. You sit perfectly still. Your ghillie suit fully camouflaging you to the dirt and plants. Well. At least to the dumb Fluffies anyways. A human would find a pile of moss in a well taken care of berry patch to be out of place.
You see them in the distance walking towards you. You rest your AR on your knee pointed towards the little bastards. You can see them in your optic walking towards you. You spot seven adults. An oversized red bastard in front. Must be the smarty. On each side stands what you reckon are toughies. There are fat Fluffies following right behind. You figure pregnant mares or mares with foals. In the back you see the designated shit eaters. You sit still and watch them as they get closer. You can faintly make out a conversation.
“Wemembah! Smawty get fiwst Nummies! Den toughies. Den Speciaw fwen! Den udda mawes!”
You take notice that he doesn’t mention the shit eaters. Here they are surrounded by more food then they could possibly eat yet they can’t touch a single berry. Mr. Smarty is about to learn how you deal with bad Fluffies.
“Fwosin wub bwockies suuuu muchies!”
Frosting says while her and plum stack the blocks.
Suddenly the block tower is tumbled over by a fluffy running through it.
“HEY DAS FWOSINS BWOCKIES!”
You yell. The other fluffy stops and turns around.
“Jewwy bean sowwy. Jewwy bean pway Huggie tag.”
Another fluffy runs and hugs jelly bean.
“Wime got ou! Ou it!”
“Gasp can fwosin am pwum pway!?!”
You ask.
“Ob couws! Wets aww pway! Jewwy bean gonna get ou aww!”
You decide to take out the two toughies first. You line up your first shot.
BANG BANG BANG
You unleash a quick three round burst. The first toughie drops. You line up the second target.
BANG BANG
The second toughie drops and the smarty screams. The second shot must have nicked him. You swear you can smell the scaredy poopies from here. The others run off
“WUN HEWD WUN! NOISEY MUNSTAH AFTAH US! SAB SMAWTY! PWOTEC BABBEHS!”
When you’re sure they’re gone you walk over to the scene. The first fluffy was a clean head shot with two body shots. He was dead. The second one was still breathing but would bleed out soon. You look down at him.
“Well what do we have here? A little trespasser?”
He looks up at you in terror.
“Pwease haf haf nu huwt gowge mossy munstah! Haff haff”
It took you a second to realize what he was asking before you realize. He doesn’t realize you’re human. To him you really do look like some kind of monster. You get an idea.
“Alright George. I’ll make you all better with my mossy monster magic… If you tell me where your herd went.”
You planned on following the trail of scared shit and now what little blood there was from the smarty but this makes things so much easier.
Haf haf o-otay! Hewd is stayin in owd wed housie behin dose tweesies. Pwease hewp gowge."
You smile pointing the muzzle of your Gun towards his skull.
“Oh I will.”
BANG
You never told him how you’d help. You knew exactly where they were. The old barn your grandfather used before your good old dad built the one you use now. It was old sure but unless something bad happened it was sound. You never locked the door so it’s no secret how they got in. But there’s only one way in… And one way out.
This was going to be easier than you thought.
“Hehehehehe! WUB Huggie tag!”
You say running from plum who’s it.
“Pwum gonna gib fwosin bestest Huggies ebah!”
Plum says chasing you.
Suddenly the daycare worker stands up and turns the TV back on.
“Alright colts and fillies! It’s time for… DANCIE FLUFFIES! So everyone get up and shake that fluff!”
The lady on the TV says. You all stop and gather around the TV. Suddenly the beat drops and the BESTEST song EVER comes on!"
“Good babbehs make poopies in da wittah box (in da box)”
You all start dancing. Showing off your best dancie moves. You twirl around doing your signature sketti dance. You all laugh and play and stumble I to each other.
You slowly make your way to the barn. Staying low just in case they have a lookout. Luckily they didn’t (of course). You creep up to the slightly ajar door. You hear them inside.
“Huuhuuhuu smawtys weggie hab wowstest huwties. Huuhuuhuu!”
You can practically hear the lard in that things voice.
“Nu cwy Speciaw fwen. Huggies make aww bettah.”
“Huuhuu. Daisy’s Speciaw fwen take fowevew sweepies. Dummeh noisey munstah. Huuhuuhuu!”
You peak in and notice they’re not paying attention. You slowly close the door locking the wooden latch behind you. You’re surprised it didn’t creak. You sneak behind an old pile of hay and take aim at an obviously pregnant mare. You feel a little bad. It’s not like these guys threatened you like the last ones. Maybe you should just take the remaining Fluffies to a shelter.
“Bestest mawe am tiwed ob dummeh wed housie. Wen we take hooman housie?”
She asks the smarty who she’s giving Huggies to.
“Soon Speciaw fwen. Owd Toughies seawch foh way in. We nu fin one yet. Onwy one dummeh mawe in housie.”
He says. Is he talking about your house? About frosting?
“Teehee. One dummeh mawe nu match foh hewd. We gib wowstest stompies foh nu shawe housie wif hewd.”
“Heh. We make hew poopie fwuffies enfy mawe.”
The brown one looks up.
“Poopie get enfy mawe? YAAAY! Fank ou smawty!”
And there goes your sympathy for any of them. You you see the mare that called herself Daisey with foals. Two whine for milk while an obvious fat bestest greedily suckles. Whelp. Showtime.
You pull the trigger instantly turning the smarties special friends brain into jam.
“NUUU SPECIAW FWEN! NOISEY MUNSTAHS BACK! QUICK! WUN!”
Smarty hovels to the door. I take aim at the one with foals.
“Quick bestest babbeh! Climb on!”
She kicks the other two to the side.
“Mummah! Babbehs nee mummah!”
The foals cry.
“NU DUMMEH BABBEHS! GU GIB MUNSTAH SOWWY HOOFSIES! SAB MUMMAH AN BESTEST BA-ACK!”
Clean through the head. The babbehs gather around her. As she falls she seems to land on her precious little bestest.
“Mummah! Sab bestest babbeh! Huuhuu! Why dummeh mummah huwt bestest babbehs wingey?”
The smarty reaches the door. No matter how hard he pushes it won’t budge.
“NU! PWEASE MISTAH DOOW OPEN!”
He continues to push.
You stand up from your hiding place. He looks at you.
“Hey there fatso… GRRRROOWW!!!”
You growl like a crazed animal. He immediately shits himself and runs to the back.
"MOSSY MUNSTAH! POOPIES SAB SMAWTY!*
The two brown Fluffies obviously used to being forced. To take orders charge you. One rams his horn directly into your snake boot. It breaks off Instantly.
“NUUU! PWETTY HOWN!”
You don’t even waste a bullet. You stomp the little fuckers head so hard blood squirts out of his nose.
The other poopy fluffy tried to bite your leg. as he sees you stomp his fellow poopies brains out he lets go and backs off.
“HUUHUU NU HUWT POOPIE!”
You shoot him as he runs away. Hitting him right in his ugly little poopy place. He tries to yell in pain but only manages a gurgle as the 5.56 round probably did a number on his organs. If not passing straight through the frail little body. Finally it’s just you and fatso. You see him cowering in the corner covering his eyes.
“If smawty nu see munstah. Munstah nu see smawty”
He repeats over and over.
You walk up to him. He hears your footsteps and voids his bowels again.
“Yeah no. I can see ya just fine tubby. Look at me.”
He stands up and looks at you.
“Pwease nu huwt smawty!”
You laugh.
“Smarty? Of what? Your whole herd is dead.”
He sniffles.
“Nu… Stiww am smawty… Babbehs am stiww hewd!”
“You really are stupid.”
You walk over to the babies. The mom really did do a number on the shithead bestest. It’s wing was bent all around. You pick it up.
“Stoopie mossy munstah! Bestest Babbeh gib sowwy poo-CRACK”
With one quick twist you rip the bestest babbehs head off.
“Any other ideas fatso?”
He sniffles more.
“Huuhuuhuuhuu nu huwt! Nu huwt!”
“I’m not gonna kill you. But you will hurt.”
You walk over and place your foot on his back. Pinning him to the ground.
“NU! PWEASE!”
You place the barrel of your gun to his ballsack.
“Tell all your shit rat friends that this land and ALL it’s Nummies belong to the mossy monster!”
You fire twice. One In to each ball ensuring he’s completely sterile.
“REEEEEEEEEEEEE! WUMPS! PEEP! WUUUUMPS! CHEEP CHIRP!”
“Tell every fluffy you meet to stay away or die.”
You throw him out the door. Despite his injuries he waddles off the best he can. One testicle blown completely out of the sack and dragging on the ground behind him. You walk over to the two other foals.
“Pwease nice munstah. Onwy wittwe babbehs! Nee miwkies.”
Even after everything you knew you weren’t really a monster. You remove the hood of your ghillie suit showing that you are in fact human.
“N…nice mistah? Be nyu Daddeh?”
The foals asked. These things sure don’t hold a grudge.
"For a while maybe. But after you’re weened you two are getting other homes.
You say. You unload your rifle and place it on your back. Strap around your shoulder.
You pick up the two innocent foals and walk out of the now blood bath barn.
You take them home and put away your rifle making a mental note to clean it later. You bathe the two foals despite their protests. You still had some powdered foal formula from the incident. You put some in a dropper and fed both foals. They suckle greedily. It’s obvious the mother gave most of her milk to the bestest. They each drink three whole droppers before they’re full with their little tummies distended. They both let out cute little burps.
“Fank ou nice mistah. Dat was bestest miwkies babbeh am ebah have.”
You take them into frostings safe room. Their eyes immediately gets wide at the toys.
“BESTEST DADDEH GIB TOYSIES!”
They start playing. You know you can’t keep them but frosting will be ecstatic to have more babies to play with for a while. Speaking of it’s getting close to six.
“Alright babies. I have to go pick up your new mummah. Now. If you have to make poopies do it in this.”
You point to the litter box.
“Otay Daddeh. Babbeh can’t wait for nyu mummah!”
You turn on the TV, Shut and lock the safe room door, and head out.
It’s nappy time. Every fluffy is so tired from dancies. You all lay together in a big fluffpile. You give plum Huggies while you sleep. Suddenly you feel a tap.
You look up to see the nice mistah daycare worker.
“Frosting. Your daddies here to pick you up. Let’s go.”
You’re sad to leave your friends but excited to tell your daddy all about playgroup.
He puts you in his metah munstah and buckles you in.
“Daddeh! Fwosin hab SUUUUUUU much fun funsies! Wub pwaygwoup!”
You say.
“That’s great frosting. Daddy has a surprise for you when we get home.”
A surprise? You wonder what it is.
You get home and Daddeh leads you to your safe room.
“Okay Frosting. One two THREE!”
Daddeh says opening the door. In your bed you see two babbehs sleeping.
“B…BABBEHS! FWOSIN WUB BABBEHS!”
Daddeh says you can be a mummah until they don’t have to drink miwkies no more. You’re so happy. You have the bestest Daddeh ever.
“Wub ou Daddeh!”
You say.
“Yeah yeah. Love you two frosting.”
