Poo-tergeist 2: The Crappening
the next part nobody asked for is now
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Joe was snoozing, his bedroom sealed off with special wards bought off of Ebay to keep the pesky fluffy spirits from waking him up. He was having a dream. A weird dream. Something so weird it’d likely get this story put straight into contro. His eyes flickered open. Sitting on top of his chest was a purple and pink mare with leathery bat wings.
“Teehee! Wub souw nummies!” Alright, not cool. He was going to leave a bad review on that Ebay store.
“I read about you just the other day. A SUCKubus, huh? ” Taking ahold of her wings, he dragged the demonic fluffy up and out of his bed. She flailed around.
“Nuuu! Wan speciaw huggies!” She offered, though only a sick bastard or some dudes stuck on a boat would do that. He ripped her wings off as if they were made of wet paper.
“SCREEEE! ‘NEE WINGIES ‘FO FWYIN!” The demon cried out, and he’d toss her at the landing of his stairs.
“Hang ten, bitch!” Hopping on top of her back he would surf down the steps with her body. It wasn’t a very smooth ride down and a long streak of blood, broken off fangs, and even a leg was left on the steps. He left the body. There so many of them laying around at the moment it was of the least concern.
“Alright, let’s see what’s on the…” He had walked into the living room in order to check out the news. Maybe the weather forecast could tell him why not only spirits but monster fluffies were descending on his place. That was until something caught his attention.
Goddamn Dracula fluffy just floating right in front of the window. Tapping a hoof shyly against the glass pane.
“Teehee! Wet fwuffy in pwease?” It asked, and Joe would open the window up. It immediately drifted in, knocked face-first into a lamp, finally got it’s course of direction righted.
“Dwaguwa am hab booboo nummies naow!” The little dipshit of the night announced. It floated up and clamped it’s fangs down on his neck. Joe swore he could heard a squeaky noise. It sure as Hell didn’t hurt, didn’t even penetrate his skin.
He walked off to the kitchen. Reached over to the dishrack, pulled out a spoon. The man stuck the spoon against the fluffy, who was so confused he stopped biting for a moment.
“Wha? Nummy fing?” He blinked.
“It’s silverware, dumbass!” Joe declared, though it was actually some nickel plated thing from China.
“DWAGULA NU WIKE SIWBAH!” The fluffy screeched as he touched it with the spoon again. It’s skin crackled and caught fire before it’s entire body was consumed by a roil of flames. Ashes and fangs littered the floor.
What in the goddamn else was going to accost him? Oh shit, there it was. Wandering into the kitchen was…a regular ass fluffy. A fat orange mare. The only difference was someone had wrapped it up in toilet paper. A bunch of also-wrapped chirpies clang to her back.
“Hewwo nice mistah. Am mummah-y.” The fluffy told him. Joe squinted down to it. Pointed to the door.
“…Get the Hell out of here, I don’t got time for you right now.” The mummah-y walked toward the door then looked back to him. He continued to point out and she finally left.
“Hoomin nu see bestest fwuffy. Heh heh.” Came another voice. Jesus, they were really pouring it on thick tonight. He looked around. Indeed. He didn’t see anything at first. Something sure stank though.
“Ah. Aha. I see.” Behind his trashcan was what appeared to be shit floating in midair. Invisible fluffy, classic
“Gee where’s that fluffy at? Beats me. I don’t even know. I’m going to just walk over by this trashcan with a frying pan in my hand.” He took his best pan off the stove, a heavy cast iron, lingered over by the trash.
“Teehee…dummeh hoomin nu see fwuffy…” The invisible little fucker continued to congratulate himself. Spinning the frying pan around his hand, he’d kick the trashcan out of the way.
“THIS IS YOUR BRAIN ON DRUGS!” He channeled all the psycho-bitch energy of that one lady on the classic PSA, looking to crack himself an egg. He’d guessed right and smashed a bunch of not-so invisible brains all over the kitchen floor. Taking a deep breath, he set the pan aside and went back into the living room.
He flipped on the news. Something…didn’t seem right though.
“Hewwo! Dis am speciaw nyus naow!” The anchor mare said. Anchor mare? Huh.
She looked directly to the camera. It focused in on her. “Yew am hab fowebba sweepies!”
He turned the television off. Man, these spirits were feisty.
“Fake news! FAKE NEWS. Well. Time to go get some stuff from the basement.” Whistling and making his way from the couch, he had a sudden thing hit him. Oh shit. The basement. He’d flooded it and tortured quite a few sea fluffies down there.
Kicking open the basement door, he’d flip on the light. Oh yeah, everything was cattywampus down here. The water was a thick brown sludge. He could see a few tentacles writhing through it. Flat, beady eyes stared out over the surface before quickly disappearing again.
“I’m just here to get my chainsaw. So help me God if one of you water dipshits touches me, I’ll punch your pecker so hard it’ll turn into a vagina. Or whatever fish have, shit I’m not a marine biologist.” Descending down the stairs and submerging himself thigh-deep in the nasty water, he began to wade through it. Surprisingly enough, nothing tried to fuck with him. Perhaps the commotion upstairs had been enough for them to behave.
“Well. That was really anti-climatic.” He murmured, tucking the chainsaw down from it’s resting place on the wall. A water battle would have been really cool. Going up the stairs and dripping everywhere, he looked down.
“You guys sure? Nothing?” He waited. Nothing. Sigh.
Well. Things were really heating up. Looking out the living room window he could see tons of fluffy zombies wandering around the yard. Some had been run over, some bore the crispiness of burn victims, others foamed at the mouth from poisonings.
His phone began ringing. Joe picked it up. The caller ID said ‘999’. Jesus these guys were retarded.
“Joe’s Mortuary. You stab ‘em, we slab ‘em. How can I help you?” He waited to hear whatever they had to say. He was successfully jumpscared when the only sound that came after a long pause was a loud fart.
“Alright. That was a line too goddamn far.”