"Das wite, dummeh hoomin! Ou haff wissen tu fwuffy!" The bright red pegasus extended his little wingies and puffed his cheeks out, staring daggers at the surly drunken 28 year old man who’d dared to question him. Normal fluffies could never do this without immediately inviting death. But Andrew was no normal fluffy.
Andrew was wearing a party hat.
“Dude, he’s right. You were way over the line. Drink.” The incredulous drunk slumped in defeat. “I can’t believe I’m losing cuzza some shitr-”
“NUNU WOWD! OU AM OUTTA HEWE! GU TU CHIWWOUT WOOM WIF NICE WADY AN UDDA HOOMINS!”
Head fully in hand, he turned to go. “Man, this was such a lame idea.” His friend laughed a bit too hard. “Hey man, rules are rules. Besides, you can’t use that word without sounding like a fucking dipshit. It’s just a really clumsy word, dude.” The drunk, having heard the lapse into obscenity looked back to the party fluff expectantly.
“Wat? Ou nee Andwoo expwain hao get tu chiwwout woom? Nu wowwy, Andwoo can-” The inebriate interjected. “Why do I get tossed for ‘nono words’ but you don’t call Jesse?” He waved his hands wildly at his friend, who was presently doubled over with laughter. Andrew looked at Jesse, and back to the rowdy hoomin with puzzlement. “Fwuffy nu heaw nuffin.” This put the matter to rest. Soon he’d be in the chillout room, doing Qualuudes with what had to be at least three of the five Pansexual water polo players attending the evening’s events, his emasculation by a fluffy long forgotten.
“You know Andrew, he’s right. I did say some shit.” The other three guys playing Drunk Darts all nodded and made positive murmuring noises, but Andrew shook his head.
“Sumtimes da wef du gud job by nu du nuffin at aww.”