He was born in an artificial womb, another side project of Armitage Labs. Lead researcher and father of the pet project, one professor Henry Gascoigne oversaw every second of his genesis, from egg fertilization, embryonic DNA modification and birth.
N-01 (or “Pyro”, as the junior staff had dubbed him) was a well mannered and excitable colt of eight weeks. His body was two toned, with a body of pale orange and yellow, his mane and tail were deep blood orange with scarlet at the tips. And although his body was seemingly identical in appearance to his standardised kin, he was anything but, and the golden crosses that sat at the centre of his pupils gave it away.
Pyro was a prototype, the first of his kind; a Nitrofluff.
The intent of professor Gascoigne was borne about from his ever expanding curiosity involving these creatures; although this specific trial run was started with the intent to create a proof of concept, a fluffy with something resembling a decent self defence mechanism. The idea came to the professor one late summer evening as he clocked out from the lab and stepped out into the street. The elder watched in stone faced disgust as a bachelor gang of five young fluffies gathered around and took turns raping a screaming mare in the middle of the street, beaten purple and forced to watch as they stomped her six foals into a crimson mush, before piling them up against their already sodomised and cold father. “If only he could have fought back” Henry thought aloud as he lit a cigarette, “…poor girl…” he exhaled. He then slid into the seat of his car, turned on the engine and mercifully mowed down the mare and gang alike, before pulling a three point turn and heading home to write down the sudden Eureka moment that struck him as soon as the first of the fluffies exploded under the weight of the wheel. The project began only a mere three days later.
Pyro’s chirpyhood was a very basic one, nothing out of the ordinary, with only the exception of him suffering intense bloating and gas, requiring assisted burping and farting on a daily basis, especially after a tantrum or feeding.
Once he had entered the talking phase, he began to differ from the standard fluffy’s behaviour, somewhat. Pyro would show extreme preference for foods such as sugars, dairy, eggs and starch rich vegetables. The Nitrofluff also showed a great preference and complete resistance to capsaicin rich foods, with Chilli and rice (or “chiwee” as he called it) serving as a personal favourite and usurper to the typical fluffy favourite of spaghetti bolognese.
Eventually, he came to the weenling phase and was now ready to be introduced to test groups.
Group A consisted of a standard, all earthy family of natural colours; a grey mare, a cream stallion, and three foals of brown, beige, and pale grey. Pyro was introduced without issue and appeared to build a good rapport with them. “hewwo fwuffies, am Pywo! Wan be fwends?” the star subject asked.
“hewwo nyew fwe-” the grey mare attempted to smile back, before suddenly pausing to sniff at the colt’s general vicinity. “am bebbeh otay?” she asked, “smeww wike… tooties…”.
“Pywo du?” he asked as he turned to sniff his own rear, “smeww otay tu Pywo. Am tootie smeww bad thingie?” the colt inquired.
“nu, jus an widdwe stimky, bu am mummah, su hab to gib wicky cweanies fow bebbehs, su smeww nu am dat bad tu mummah” she assured. “wat yew think, speshew fwend?” the mare asked.
“am vewy stimky, bu wook wike gud fwuffy, su daddeh nu cawe” the stallion added.
The only hitch in Pyro’s relationship with test group A were five instances in which the beige filly attempted to bully him via the use of spiteful songs such as: “stimky bebbeh, stimky bebbeh! Smeww wike tooties, smeww wike poopies!”. All five of which resulted in her receiving a disciplinary beating from her parents, to which she apologised profusely during and after the punishment.
Test group B consisted of a neon pink alicorn mare and her two foals, being one pale pink pegasus with no noticeable abnormalities, and the other being a murky turquoise unicorn with sensitive baby syndrome.
Pyro was introduced and initially reacted fearfully at the sight of the mare.
“eek! Munstah mawe! Pweas nu num Pywo, am onwy widdwe bebbeh!” he begged as he backed into the south-eastern corner of the chamber.
“nu am munstah! Am gud fwuffy! Pweas nu gib huwties wike udda fwuffies!” the mare pleaded in response, before snatching up her foals and tucking herself around them protectively in the north-western corner of the room.
It took the mare and colt roughly thirty minutes of frenzied screaming, begging and pleading for them to both finally understand that neither wished harm to one another.
After five minutes of profuse apologising, the mare commented on his odour, to which a near identical exchange occurred to that of group A’s. nothing else of note happened for the rest of the testing period, with the exception Pyro taking an interest in the SBS foal, leading to an altercation.
“wat am wong wid bebbeh?” Pyro asked as he poked its fat and bulbous face with his hoof.
“himb am speshew bebbeh, sensitibe bebbeh… Nee extwa miwkies an wub” the mother explained.
“am himb stoopid? Bebbeh wook a widdwe dummeh” Pyro asked in genuine concern, as he kept poking, as a child with a stick would to roadkill.
“stawp dat!” the mother replied before striking the colt across the face, “nu gib sowwy hoofsies tu bebbeh!” she huffed.
The little fluffy reeled from the blow, steadying himself as he soothed his cheek with his foreleg. At first he “huuuhuuu”-d and teared up as a standard fluffy would, before scrunching his muzzle, narrowing his eyes and puffing his cheeks in a new and extremely aggressive fashion; and all the while releasing tiny little farts, a side effect of his naturally supercharged Irritable bowel syndrome.
“TAYK HUWTIE POOPIES!” he suddenly snapped, before spinning in place and blasting the contents of his stomach into the family’s faces. The capsaicin rich diet had turned the diarrhoea into something of a naturally created, viscous and dark green pepper spray, blinding the mare and sending her into a screaming fit.
“OWWIES! SEE PWACE BUWNIES! SABE MUMMAH WIDDWE BEBBEHS!” the alicorn cried as she threw her turd coated offspring at the colt.
“MUMMAAAAAAH!” the pegasus filly cried as her face hit the tile flooring of the test room.
“pipipipipipipi eeeeeeeeeee!” her SBS sibling panicked as he landed directly in front of his sister, letting loose a torrent of scaredy poopies that partially got on Pyro’s legs.
“am dummeh twyin tu pick fite wid Pywo!?” the Nitrofluff accused, seemingly taking great offence to being prayed. And so he took a defensive stance before rearing up high and beating the SBS foal in a vicious rage. “dis am Pywo wand!” he declared as he crushed the foals testicles under hoof.
“ee… eee… eeeee… ee” was the only response from the traumatised foal.
“huuuuuuuhuuuhuhuhuhuuuu! wy meanie bebbeh gib huwties tu mummah bebbehs?” the mare sobbed, still trying to wipe the chemical burns from her eyes.
“am yew seweus?!” Pyro huffed, “dummeh mawe gib huwties fiwst! AM AWW YEW FAWT!” he accused. He then wondered the edges of the enclosure, releasing controlled sprays, rubbing his anus, body and hooves against the walls until fully coated. “yew gun take sowwy huggies!” he declared as he charged the mare, throwing himself at her and nuzzling his face into her eyes.
“SCREEEE! NU WIKE DEEZ HUGGIES!” the mare screeched as she flailed, falling on her back. Pyro proceeded to rub his chemical coated face and hooves against her exposed crotch and mammary glands, reigniting her panic and sending her into several convulsions.
When later questioned by staff as to why he became so hostile, Pyro stated that “sowwy poopies” on him meant that the fluffy was challenging him. This behaviour was noted down by the researchers as another quirk of the Nitrofluffy’s self defence centered pathology.
Test group C consisted of a blue smarty colt, a green filly with bitch mare syndrome and a grey toughy, all of which being around the age of Pyro.
Immediately the exchange was hostile. As soon as the trio were released into the chamber.
“gu way dummeh!” the smarty ordered, “dis am Smawty wand naow!”.
Pyro took a defensive posture and began belching, farting and sqealing excessively, all the while never breaking eye contact. “NU, YEW GU WAY! DIS AM PYWO WAND AM NU GIBBIN ID UPPIES WID OU AN FITE!” he screamed defiantly.
“wat am stimk?” the toughy gagged, trying desperately to hide his nostrils.
“YEW AM STIMKY!” the bitch mare accused towards the Nitrofluff.
“Gwoss!” the smarty huffed, “tuffie, gu gib himb fowevah sweepies!” he demanded.
The goon did as ordered and attempted to tackle the Nitrofluffy, only to receive an eyeful of ‘huwtie poopies’. “AAAAAHHH! SMAWTY! HEWP TUFFIE!” he begged before running directly into a wall.
“Smawty haytchu! Nu-fwuffy gib huwties tu tuffies bu Smawty!” the blue tyrant declared. He then charged ahead, dodging the Nitrofluff’s stomach contents, and then ramming his head into Pyro’s side, sending him sliding across the tiles and into a corner. “SCREEEEEEEE! WOWSTEST OWWIES!” Pyro cried as he nursed his now shattered rib cage.
“NAOW GU FOWEVAH SWEEPIES!” the smarty ordered with a spiteful grin, as he started wailing on the shaken Nitrofluffy. Eventually the toughy regained his sight and joined in. Pyro’s pelvic bone, forelegs and hindlegs were all crippled in the beating. Without an alternative and without a hope of survival, Pyro began his last ditch effort to fight back. The Nitrofluff began to internally stockpile his internal gases, instinctively sealing his own anus and throat. Rapidly the putrid smelling gas built up inside of him, production increased ten fold by the anxiety. Rapidly he began to swell until his shape resembled that of a soon-mummah on the verge of labour, before growing even beyond that. The beatings continued from the duo but were now from a fear response rather than legitimate anger.
“dis am scawy! w-wat am stimky fwuffy doin?” the toughy asked in a panic.
“nu cawe! Jus keep gibin sowwy hoofsies” he ordered as they both struck away in futility.
Eventually Pyro towered over then, his stomach gurgling in a threatening and low growl. “Wan pop! Wan pop! Wan pop!” he declared in a manic state until suddenly making good on his threat, exploding like a fleshy and viscera filled grenade. ten feet in all directions was covered in a horrid concoction of fecal materials, blood, entrails and stomach acid, Which utterly confused and terrified the two colts, who stood in shock at ground zero.
“SCREEEEEEEE WOWSTEST BUWNIE WAWA! NU TAYK PWETTY FWUFF!” the smarty cried as his coat began to fall off, before running some distance, falling to the ground and rolling his departing fluff against the tile flooring in a desperate attempt to clean the acidic liquids from his body.
“SEE PWACE NU WOWK! ABEWY-TING AM FUZZY!” the toughy screamed in confusion and fear before running into another wall, this time breaking his neck upon impact, dying on the spot.
The filly with BMS responded to the terrible odour and chemical burning of her now fluffless partner by stomping his head in until death, before retreating to a corner, so as to get as far away from the stink of the blast zone as possible.
The head of Pyro was recovered and brought to the laboratory for closer study. The researchers discovered that professor Gascoigne’s predictions were accurate, as the Nitrofluffy began to slowly and painfully regrow his body from the neck down, as his head remained suspended in a state of full but silent awareness, letting loose quiet yet horrific screams for the entire process, until his vocal cords came back, with which he began to continually screech about “wowstest gwowin’ huwties!”.
It took one hour and twenty six minutes for the Nitrofluffy to regrow his torso and another fifteen to regrow his limbs. Pyro immediately began begging for food as soon as he had a stomach with which to fill, to which the staff responded by immediately feeding him. Professor Gascoigne had programmed the energy exhaustive healing process to be activated temporarily and only after a successful “Nitro-fit”, as he called it. Pyro could only heal after one of these last ditch explosions, brought about from intense mortal stress when all other options would be exhausted. To add to this, even after surviving the explosion and the regrowth process, he would still need to replenish his calories as soon as possible, or immediately die from starvation, exhaustion and metabolic collapse and then would be unable to do so again for several days after.
Later testing found that the chemical compounds in Pyro’s feces was no spicier than a tikka masala and to any other lifeform but a fluffy would be nothing more than a mild irritant at best. The professor had succeeded in his endeavour, yet now a final question remained.
Professor Gascoigne sat at his desk and stared at the paperwork for the approval for Nitrofluffy mass production. He looked up from the currently unfilled signature box and stared at Pyro, who sat patiently in his containment tube.
“am sumtin wong, daddeh?” he asked.
“do you feel wrong?” the professor responded, “you just blew yourself up, grew back a body and you’re so very different to your cousins. The question is, do you think there is something wrong with yourself?” Henry pondered.
“nu, Pywo wus jus pwotectin’ Pywo! Dat am gud thingie!” the Nitrofluff stated.
“and what if you had a special friend and foals? Would you protect them too?”. Henry inquired with a raised, silver and bushy brow.
“yus! dat wat Pywo wan mowe den aneh-ting! Wan wook afta fwuffies an speshew fwends an bebbehs an wand” he assured.
“then I should think that this is worth a shot. Let’s make you some friends… After all, why not? It’s not as if I’m funding this” the professor chuckled as he gripped his fountain pen tightly and signed the dotted line.
“Just do me a favour, Pyro” the old man requested as he looked up from the papers and adjusted his half moon spectacles to the bridge of his nose.
“wat favouw?” the colt questioned.
“give 'em hell…”
-To be continued-
