[shorter this time, but was inspired. hope y’all enjoy!]
My parents arrive home. I’m in my room playing Call of Duty with a Fluffy mod making it look like I blow apart Fluffy ponies instead of Germans or Russians or whatever.
“Lunch time!” my mother calls brightly from the bottom of the stairs. I knock on Lizzie’s door. “Wake up, Sis. It’s time for lunch.” I say peaking my head in and seeing Princess Caroline, the pink pegasus, moaning and tossing and turning in her little dog bed, looking even more bloated and uncomfortable since having Dr. Danny’s Pork n’ Beans Treatment, guaranteed to constipate and inflatulate!
“Yawn… oh hey Danny,…bleck! It smells awful in here…Princess Caroline has had the worst gas! Did she get into something?” Lizzie asks looking at her fluffy with disgust.
“No. I think Mom may have fed her some kibble before they left. I filled her bowl too. Maybe it was just ‘two much kibble.’” I say turning away and leaving a wicked smirk creeping onto my face.
“oooooh—two mash kibble…uhhhh…hu hu hu…PFFFRRTT!…nu smeww pwetty…hu hu hu” Princess Caroline the First (and hopefully the Last) says as my sister follows me downstairs.
“Kids! lunch!” my mom yells from the kitchen impatiently.
“Wunch?!?” Princess Caroline shouts, rousing from her bloated and (hopefully) concussed, restless slumber, and waddles her fatass to the top of the stairs.
“Big Mummah, fwuffy need bestest upsies! Big Mummaaaaaaaaaah! Need hep right nowsies! Nao!” the fat bitch fluffy screeched warming up for a full on tantrum.
“Okay, okay, okay!” my mom said, annoyed with the little pink brat.
Princess Caroline was impatiently tapping her hoofsies at the top of the stairs. “Thank you for not trying to fly…” my mom says ascending the stairs, remembering to reinforce to the bloated pegasus that her spindly wings that were rapidly buzzing ineffectually weren’t going to propel a normal size fluffy, let alone her fatass!
My mom bent over and picked the fluffy up, with a grunt, and with more effort than she expected. “wooh! you’re getting to be a heavy fluffy…” my mom says carefully climbing down the stairs with the round fluffy pony in her arms.
“Pwincess Cawowine jus fly downsies if Big-Mummah gonna take so wongsies to gib good upsies downsies da staiws…” Princess threatens, realizing that her flying is something that worried her family—although, I was fairly certain she did not believe she could actually fly. But then again, fluffies are fucking dumb…
“God, you are a chonky chonker aren’t you…” my mom says at the landing nearly bumping into the small table that held the broken (and now expertly glued) vase.
“Gasp Pwincess Cawowine nu am Chonky Fluffy. Am onwy wittle filly…”
PFFFFFRRRRRRTTTT! Prft! pFFFRRT!
I see my mom carrying Princess down the stairs towards the kitchen, just as the fluffy tub of lard lets out a long rip of machine gun style farts. Princess Caroline’s pink face turns bright red, and eyes glance around nervously, somehow hoping my mother and the rest of the family in the kitchen didn’t notice her tail blowing like tensil attached to a desk fan as the wave of flatulence buzzsawed out of her ass!
“Oh my God, Princess! That’s disgusting! Oh God, I’m gonna…AACK!….AAcckkkk…!” my mom starts gagging barely able to keep from throwing up, as she flings the fat pony away from her as she stumbles the last two steps down. Princess belly flops and lets out a loud PFRRT! to add insult to her injury.
My father and I start laughing our asses off! My sister looks horrified and then starts laughing too! “It’s not funny James! Danny! do not encourage the fat piece of shit…” my mom says through gritted teeth, gathering herself and rushing to the kitchen sink where she began scrubbing her hands, and smelling the hand soap, trying to get that smell out of her sinuses.
“Hu-hu-hu, Pwincess hab wohstest huwties from wohstest dwopsies! Hu-hu-hu!” my sister and I share a knowing glance, and she rolls her eyes. “Such a faker…” my sister whispers to me. “Drama queen…” I whisper in agreement. My sister nods and gives me a put upon ‘guess I have to take care of this now….’ look, and I’ve never been so goddamn proud of my little sister!
“There there, Princess…” my sister says, patting the fluffy. My dad shakes his head in a ‘why the fuck did we ever get this stupid thing’ way and then says “Danny, why the fuck did we ever get this stupid thing?”
“Language James! God that was the worst smell ever…” my mom says her eyes tearing up as though she’d just been skunked.
“…watch this Dan-O.” my dad says. “Hey Pinko, we got you a treat at the farmers market….”
“Fwuffy nu am ‘Pwinko’ and Pwinces—TWEATIES! whewe am tweaties…!?!” Princess springs to her hoofs and begins prancing towards my dad.
“It’s your favorite! A candy apple!” my dad says smirking at how uninjured the fluffy pony had suddenly become.
Princess rears up on her hind legs excitedly scratching her suede like hoofsies at my dad’s knees. “Pwease gib bestest fwuffy bestest canny appew tweaties! Pwincess am good fwu—“ again Princess Caroline’s proud decree will be forever lost to her kingdom’s history, as her ass trumpets a bellowing: PPPPFFFFRRRRRRRAT-ratatatatat-PFRFFFFFT!-Pfrt!…pfrt…!
“Ha!…oh wee!…oh that’s worse than your litter box…” my dad says laughing and pushing the offending fluffy away with his foot. “something crawled up in you and died, Pinky-Pink!”
My whole family laughs, even my mom and sister at my dad’s colorful expression. Princess Caroline was absolutely indignant!
“Nu! numfing in Pwincess cwawl up in Pwincess and take fowevah sweepies, DUMMEH DADDEH!” Princess yells puffing out her cheeks. The look of instant regret on Princess’ flushed face was absolutely fucking priceless.
“Bad Upsies! Pwincess sowwy, pwincess nu mean to make wohstest tootsies. You aww am MEANIES to Pwincess! pwincess nu mean to hab sumfin cwawl up in Pwincess poopypwace!” she wails as my dad
grabs her by the scruff and drags her to the laundry room and her carrier that was now a much needed sorry box.
Princess’ exit was of course punctuated by a looooong, blessedly dry fart. Princess’ hu-hu’s were drowned out by the washer and dryer as we enjoyed lunch, laughing at what a fart factory the little chunk had become. Princess was let out of the sorry box in a few hours and made good peepees in the litter box. No good poopies in the afternoon. Maybe that pork’n beans would work itself out this evening….