“Nuuuuu!” wailed Rainbow “Conan!”
Scooby-guy looked up at his red unicorn friend, who was nailed to a tree in an abandoned parking lot. An uncaring rain was hammering the asphalt and hiding the fluffies tears as they tried in vain to save their friend. The fluffy was still breathing, but only just. Scooby knew he was not far from the Forever Sleepies.
“Quick, Scooby-guy, hewp Wainbow sabe Wed Conan!” Rainbow begged, but Scooby knew it was useless. Red Conan was at least five feet up, and the nails had been driven straight through his hooves and deep into the tree trunk. Even if they had been able to climb up to him, they would never be able to pull them out, or save him.
Crows perched in the branches overhead, ignoring the rainstorm as they eagerly awaited their next meal.
“Scooooby!” Rainbow cried. “Huu huu huu… Wainbow nu wan Conan gu fowevew sweepies…”
But it was no use. Hoomins had nailed Red Conan to the Tree of Woe, and only hoomins could get him down. Then Scooby remembered.
“Wainbow! Dewe is a hoomin dat can save Wed Cownan, da hoomin am cawwed Doctow Wonawd.”
“Doctow Wonawd?” asked Rainbow, “Who am dis hoomin?”
“Doctow Wonawd am a Wizawd,” Scooby-guy explained, “Can bwing back fwuffies fwom fowevew sweepies, wiv a zappy-owwie machine.”
Rainbow gasped, “Back fwom fowevew sweepies? Wewe am dis Doctow Wonawd?”
“Da Wonawd work in a shewtew, Scooby-guy know da way, wets go!” Scooby said, and turned to leave.
“Nu!” said Rainbow, “Wainbow must stay wiv Wed Conan, to scawe away da meanie biwdies and wat munstahs…”
“Otay, Scooby wiww go!”
And with that, Scooby-guy turned and ran, ran as fast as he could, to find Doctor Ronald.
Rainbow stayed with her special friend, and tried to keep the crows away.
Phil sat in the government meeting, pretending to pay attention. At first, their plan to lead a fluffy herd into America and execute all the fluffies with flamethrowers had sounded AMAZING. Later though, when the g-men got bogged down in a long winded discussion about the practicalities and legalities of crossing the Canadian-US border with a herd of feral fluffies in tow, Phil became insanely bored. These guys sure knew how to turn an amazing fluffy crusade into a hideously boring task involving bureaucracy, forms and risk assessment. Fucking RISK ASSESSMENT. They were going to use flamethrowers to incinerate fluffies for fucks sake! Surely the only risk assessment needed was: Don’t light your ass on fire. But nooooo. The flamethrowers were “sophisticated instruments” which required “special training.” Phil made his excuses and retired to the bathroom.
A quick line of cocaine later, and Phil returned to the meeting feeling like a new man.
“Government dudes! You’ve gotta listen to my plan,” Phil interrupted with his new found enthusiasm.
The g-men stopped their discussion. The man who had been speaking was open-mouthed with shock that this long haired, leather jacket wearing “Snake Daddy” would interrupt him. The other’s merely sat back in their chairs and looked, probably bored of the speakers risk assessments and glad of the interruption.
“Go on Mr Cachioli,” the cigarette smoking man said, “We might as well hear your plan, you’ll be leading the herds after all.”
“OKAY!” Phil began, “So the basic thing is, we can’t burn the shit-rats to death in Canada, because of the hugbox laws and animal rights crap yeah?”
“Indeed Mr Cachioli,” one of the g-men concurred.
“So, you want me to tell them that I’m leading them to the Holy Land, and that its in America, right?”
“Yes!” said the man Phil had interrupted, “That’s what we’ve been discussing for the last hour!”
Phil looked at him and grinned, “But the problem is that you can’t just walk into the US without permission, even though there’s no fence, and that my fellow American’s might get a bit pissed if you did, right?”
“Yes! That’s the whole fucking point!” the interrupted man continued.
“Sooooo… two points. First thing is, I’m American. If I get caught over there, I could just pretend I’m your average Joe Public abuser, out to roast me some fluffarinos.”
“We know that Mr Cachioli, but President Supreme’s humane euthanisation laws mean that…”
“Awww that don’t mean shit. Sure you’re supposed to humanely euthanise or whatever, but do you think American cops actually CARE about that shit? Fluffy’s are biotoys in America, without animal rights. They’d probably laugh watching me fry them alive.”
“He does have a point,” one of the ministers agreed. “The hugbox candidate is falling far behind Quimby in the polls, there are a lot of the US public who share our goals, and that would include police and border patrol. That doesn’t solve the problem of the other Canadians in the team though.”
“What other Canadians?” Phil asked, “I am perfectly capable of completing this mission on my own. I have the skills, I have the aptitude, and I have the FLAME THROWER you’re gonna give me. I can lead a thousand of them, easy. I’ll walk them straight across the border and herd them into a ravine or something, then, I’ll just light them all up and listen to them scream as they burn to death. I’m the motherfucking SNAKE DADDY!”
The goverment men just stared at Phil. Some looked amazed at his arrogance, while others looked thoughtful.
The cigarette smoking man just broke into a wry smile. Phil was too high to notice.
“Quickwy Doctow Wonawd! Wed Conan am dis way!” cried Scooby-guy, as the car sped through the rainstorm.
Doctor Ronald drove his car through the abandoned parking lot, swerving to avoid potholes and discarded shopping carts. Scooby-guy was stood with his front hooves on the dashboard, looking through the windshield, and giving Ronald pretty good directions for a feral fluffy.
“Wun fastew metaw munstah!” Scooby kept shouting at Ronald’s car. Ronald didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.
“Dewe! Dewe is da twee! An… oh nu!”
Ronald looked out of the window, and saw a red fluffy unicorn, nailed to a tree, being pecked at my two crows. He slammed on the breaks and opened the door.
“Conan!” Scooby yelled, and dived straight out of the car. Ronald quickly followed, entering the deluge.
“Meanie biwdies! Weave speciaw fwiend awone!” said a rainbow maned Unicorn, who was half drowned from the rain, and was jumping up and down, ineffectively.
“Scram you damn crows!” Ronald yelled, sending the birds flapping and squawking.
“Awww hell,” Ronald cursed when he saw the sorry state the red unicorn was in. Some sick bastard had crucified him, nailing him to the tree through his hooves. Fluffy blood clotted quickly, so he hadn’t bled out, and no arteries were severed. Instead, the poor creature would have died of hunger, thirst, or being eaten alive by crows. Ronald could already see several wounds from gulls and crows that had pecked at the fluffy, but he also saw the bodies of three birds on the ground nearby. Bird blood stained the mouth of the red unicorn. This fluffy was one tough son of a bitch.
“Okay, lets get you down from there little buddy!” Ronald yelled over the falling rain, and used his pliers to pull the nails out. It only took a few seconds, but it must have felt like an eternity to the two crying and begging fluffies who were terrified for their friend. The rainbow unicorn must have been sat in the rain for hours waiting for them.
“Pwease nice mistah!” she begged, “Pwease sabe Conan!”
“Okay, okay, I got him, easy there buddy, lets get you out of this rain…”
Ronald carried the fluffy into the back of his car, and laid the shivering, wounded creature down on a blanket on his back seat. The red unicorn let out a long ragged sigh, and then… stopped breathing.
“Oh shit!” cursed Ronald, “He’s not breathing!”
“Quick!” squeaked the rainbow unicorn, “Give bestest huggies! Make Wed Conan bettew!”
Ronald shook his head. How could fluffies be so damn dumb.
“No! huggies won’t work, I need to use the defibrillator… I…”
Ronald popped his trunk and practically tore open his first aid kit. The rain continued to hammer down all around them, and he felt half soaked to the skin from just a few seconds of exposure. Grabbing the defibrillator, he ran back into the back of the car, to find Scooby-guy and the rainbow unicorn hugging their friend and crying.
“Huuu huu huu… Nu go fowevew sweepies Wed Conan, Wainbow wuv yu! Wan have bestest speciaw huggies, wan make tummeh babbehs… huu huu huu…”
“Pwease Wed Cownan, nu die, Scooby-guy wuv toughie-fwiend!”
“Stand back fluffies! Get off him! MOVE!” Ronald yelled, having to literally rip the fluffies away from their friend.
“Huggies won’t work, I gotta use this magic machine,” he explained, having long given up trying to explain to fluffies at his shelter what a defibrillator was.
Ronald flipped the switch to charge the capacitor and nothing happened. He flipped it again, and again, and then…
“FUCK!” he yelled, the damned batteries were flat.
Ronald took a step back. This poor fluffy was going to die because some sick abuser had thought it was funny to nail him to a tree, and now he had the chance to save him, but was going to fail, all because he’d forgotten to recharge the defib.
“Pwease Doctow Wonawd!” begged Scooby-guy, “Pwease do a magic!”
“I… I… wait!” Ronald suddenly yelled. Realising he had another source of electricity, he popped the hood of his car, grabbed his jump leads, and hooked them up to the defib battery. Running around his car in circles as he grabbed everything and hooked it all up, he returned to the back seat and had to yank the danged Rainbow mare away from the red guy again.
“Huggies won’t work!” he told her, a little harshly, flipping the switch and feeling immense relief as the defib capacitor whined as it charged up.
“Step back! Don’t touch him! CLEAR!”
Ronald placed the fluffy sized defib pads on either side of where the fluffy’s heart would be. Ideally, the fluff would have been shaved off first, as was the case during veterinary operations. Doctor Ronald only hoped the water would help to conduct the electricity.
“CLEAR!” he yelled again, more out of habit than any expectation that the fluffies would understand.
Ronald pressed the discharge button, and flinched.
For a moment, light turned to day, as out of nowhere, a lightning bolt forked, arched, and struck the hood of the car. Thunder roared like a thousand angry ghosts, and Ronald felt every hair in his body stand on end.
“FUCK!” screamed Ronald.
“SKY-MUNSTAHS!” cried Scooby-guy.
“CWOM!” yelled Red Conan.
A few days later, Red Conan was fit and well. Doctor Ronald had taken them in, tended to his wounds, and kept them warm and fed as Conan healed up. His natural fluffy durability meant that his wounds healed quickly.
For almost the first time in his life, Red Conan realised that not all humans were like the Snake Daddy, or his master in the fluffy fighting pits. Some humans, in fact, a lot of humans, called themselves “Hugboxers” and liked nothing more than to give fluffies hugs, nummies and love. Doctor Ronald, or “Ron” as he liked to be called, ran a shelter in the middle of town, not that far from the Snake Daddy’s herd. Ron hated the Snake Daddy with a passion.
“He’s an abuser. He gives the fluffies spaghetti, but then rounds up dozens of them every night for god knows what. People have started buying snakes, and the rumour is, they’re… feeding fluffies to them. The worst thing is, the cops are doing nothing, even though we’ve made dozens of complaints. And the damn ferals are too stupid to understand what he’s doing. The promise of sketties and skettyland is just too much for them to resist.”
Red Conan, Rainbow and Scooby-guy told all the fluffies at the shelter about the Snake Daddy’s evil plan, and that he tortured and killed fluffies in secret. Some of them understood, but some were so stupid that at the mere mention of sketties, all they could grasp was “Snake daddah am giv sketties? To fwuffies? Weawy?”. Red Conan could only shake his head in despair.
Slowly, as his strength returned, Red Conan realised that he wanted nothing more than revenge. This would end the only way it could, with the death of the Snake Daddy. Red Conan ground his teeth with hatred. Meanwhile, Scooby-guy and Rainbow pleaded with him not to return.
“Pwease Wed Conan, Wainbow hav tawked to Scooby-guy, and he agwee. Wets just wun away,” the mare pleaded. “One time, Wainbow wouwd hav wanted wevenge too, but naow, Wainbow hav Wed Conan. Wots of tiems, Wainbow hav seen ovva fwuffies, wiv speciaw fwiends, an babbehs, an feew wowstest heawt huwties. But now Wainbow hav Conan. Pwease, stay wiv Wainbow, hav huggies, and wuv, and babbehs…”
“Da Snake Daddah kiwwed da Conan-Mummah! Mummah-Jewwy! Conan want WEVENGE!” Red Conan roared, making Rainbow flinch.
“Wed Conan wiww hav Wevenge,” Conan explained, in a calm and level voice.
“Dewe is one way,” said Scooby-Guy. “Da Snake Daddah is stwong, wiv wotsa hoomins, and Stwong fwuffy hewd too. But da Bowsew hewd am stwongew. If Wed Conan and Scooby-guy save Pwum, da bestest babbeh of Bowsew, den da Bowsew hewd wiww hewp to giv da Snake Daddah wowstest owwies an fowevew sweepies.”
Red Conan thought about it. “Dat am gud pwan Scooby-guy, Wed Conan am gwad to hav Scooby-guy fwiend.”
“Dey say da Snake Daddah am nu at home naow, onwy fwuffy hewd am dewe,” added Scooby-guy.
“Dat am gud too,” agreed Conan, “We gonna sneak in dis tiem, and gwab pwum, and wun away!”
“Nu! Dey wiww kiww us aww!” squealed Rainbow, still begging Red Conan to change his mind.
“Wed Conan am going,” Conan said simply and decisively.
“Scooby go too,” added Scooby.
Rainbow looked down at her hooves, then back up into the eyes of her special friend.
“Otay den,” she sighed, “Wainbow wiww come wiv yu too.”
The fluffies were prepared this time. The strapped Red Conan’s horn blade onto his head, but he left his armour behind, to move quickly and quietly. Rainbow and Scooby-guy put on Red Conan’s leg armour and spiked hoofy-shoes, persuading a reluctant Doctor Ronald to help buckle the straps. The vicious shoes had sharp spike an inch long, letting the wearer deliver a lethal kick to any fluffy that got in their way.
Finding an alleyway, the Fluffies rolled in a muddy puddle, until they were all as brown as Scooby-guy. No fluffy would know who they were, or recognise the infamous red unicorn, or his distinctive rainbow maned special friend. Then, they snuck past the guard fluffs on the outside of the warehouse, and made their way inside.
The main hallway was nearly abandoned, but had a stage set up for tonight’s ceremony, and smelled faintly of fluffies and stale spaghetti. A few lone fluffies were giving the massive floor licky cleanies. It looked like an impossible task, but Rainbow told them that the fluffies would lick it completely clean, even if it took all day, in order to please their Snake Daddy. The licky-clean fluffies were too busy to notice them as they snuck deeper into the Snake Daddy’s lair.
The fluffies had to hide in the shadows as a group of human’s walked past them, hauling huge pots to cook spaghetti in. Fortunately they were not spotted, but Conan could feel his heart hammering in his chest as the large humans walked past, talking to each other and bitching about their work. The humans did not see them.
Creeping further on, the fluffies found the room that lead deep into the interior of the Church of Spaghetti. What they saw amazed Red Conan and his companions.
In a back-room, far behind the stage, was the safe-room the Snake Daddy and his hoomin guards had made for the Snake-Daddah’s herd. Thick luxurious carpet, deeper and softer than anything Conan’s hooves had ever felt lined the floor, expensive tapestries were hung on the wall, and electric heaters kept the room warm and dry. In a corner of the room, there was even a chained up miaow-monster, an exotic pet indeed.
The Church of Spaghetti land’s smarty was the Snake Daddy himself, but he was gone, finding a “path to spaghetti land” or so the word in the back alleys was. Instead, the safe-room was occupied by his bestest toughies, large feral stallions, and fat, well fed, escaped domestics. They were all lounging around on pillows, surrounded by toys, balls, blockies and the most beautiful mares Red Conan had ever seen. Pearly white unicorns, pink pegasi, graceful earthies and rainbow maned mares, all as delicious looking as Rainbow, or even more so. The dozen or so stallions must have had three or four special friends each, several of whom were soon-mummahs, lounging on their pillows and nibbling at grapes and strawberries. Red Conan felt his heart beat faster and his no-no’s start to throb in anticipation.
“Dese fwuffies wiv wike da Sky-Daddahs!” gasped Scooby-guy, taking the words right out of Red Conan’s mouth.
Rainbow, being slightly less affected by the decadent luxury, managed to keep her wits about her. She pointed her nose at the far end of the room, from which the smell of… sketties was coming.
Red Conan looked over, seeing a large vat of spaghetti cooking on a gas hob. A human was cooking spaghetti for the herd, and was adding…
“Nu!” Rainbow gasped, restraining her voice despite wanting to scream out load “Nu!”
The human was dropping live fluffy foals into the boiling spaghetti sauce.
“Nuuu! pwease! Nuuu… AIIIEEEE!” a foal begged and screamed as it was dropped into the sauce.
Hiding behind a cushion massive enough for two humans to sit on, the fluffies looked on in despair as the spaghetti chef hefted a box of baby fluffies, and poured them all into the boiling spaghetti sauce, to a cacophany of screams, wails and chirps.
One of the Snake Daddy’s biggest toughies ears perked up at the sound.
“Dat sound wike… bestest sketties am neawy weady!” the evil Stallion said enthusiastically.
Several stallions, and some of the mares, started to lick their lips in anticipation of this “bestest sketties”. Even Red Conan felt his stomach growl, but he ignored it, just like he ignored his throbbing no-no’s.
“Wook!” whispered Rainbow, breaking the spell, “It am Pwum, sitting on da piwwow.”
Sure enough, the Plum coloured bestest baby of the herd King Bowser, was sat on a pillow, next to a bowl of berries, near to one of the toughies. By now she was a young filly, and soon would be ready to make more babies for the Snake Daddy’s herd. How any mummah could stay in a herd that ate other fluffy’s babies was beyond what Conan could believe.
“Its ready!” called out the Chef. Several toughies jumped up from their pillows, and ran towards the chef, who hefted the large pot of foal-spaghetti from the stove, and carried it, straining at the weight and wobbling slightly, towards the eager herd toughies.
“Bestest-toughies get sketties fiwst! Den mawes!” said a particularly fat stallion.
As Red Conan saw the chef stumbling towards them with the enormous heavy pot of boiling sketties, a plan formed in his mind. Looking at Rainbow and Scooby, he beckoned their attention to the Chef. They nodded, understanding his plan, and snuck past cushions and blocky towers, ready to pounce.
“Sketties! Sketties!” the excited toughies squeaked, sounding like little babies in their enthusiasm.
The chef wobbled over, straining at the weight of the pot, boiling sauce spilling over the edges and staining the luxurious carpet.
“Okay fluffies, settle down!” the Chef grunted as he hefted the pot in front of the excited fluffies that were practically dancing for his attention, “Just let me put this pot down and… ARHGHG!”
Red Conan struck, sinking his horn blade deep into the flesh behind the chefs right knee. Rainbow and Scooby-guy also struck from behind, kicking the chef hard behind his left knee, sinking the hoofy-spikes into is soft hoomin-flesh.
“ARGRGRHHH!!!” the chef cried, as his legs buckled from under him. The pot wobbled, and tipped over, pouring gallons of boiling hot foal-spaghetti all over seven or eight of the Snake-Daddah’s toughest toughies.
“AIIEIEIEE!” one screamed in horror.
“SCREEEEEEEE!” yelled another, as the boiling sauce scalded and blinded and burned them.
“WOWSTEST OWWIES!” cried another.
“SOO BUWNY! WHY HUWT FWUFFY? WHY?”
“WEGGIES!” cried another toughy, who’s legs were crushed under the weight of the pot, which was spilling more burning sauce all over his back, “AIIIEEEEEE!”
“Now!” yelled Conan.
The Snake Daddy’s herd heavily outnumbered them, but half of their toughies had been crippled by the burny-sauce, and the mares just screamed and squeaked as Red Conan and his friends charged the remaining toughies. Red Conan quickly sank his horn blade into the throat of a large toughie who was shouting orders, and Rainbow and Scooby-guy sneak-attacked another, kicking him savagely with their hoofy spikes as he wailed and begged for mercy.
Now that the surprise was over, the remaining toughies tried to regain the initiative, and charged the intrepid band of thieves. Three toughies charged Red Conan, who willingly met them head on, the remaining two chased Scooby-guy around a large cushion, only to ram each other head on, as he sat atop it laughing. Rainbow ran into the screaming mares, and grabbed Plum by the scruff of her neck, hoisting her into the air like a bad baby.
“Bad upsies!” she cried, as Rainbow dragged her away.
Conan kicked, bited and gored at the toughies. Meanwhile, Scooby-guy left the stunned toughies he had been fighting and ran over to the gas-stove, placing his hooves either side of the stove, he pushed with all the strength he had, and tipped the still lit stove and gas can over, onto the carpet, cushions and tapestries that filled the safe room. In no time at all, flames started to spread like an angry snake.
“Buwnies! Buwnies!” screamed the mares, and all started fleeing for the exit.
“Nu!” cried the largest remaining toughy, “Nu wun! Da fiwes wiww onwy take fwuffies to Sketty Wand!” he charged Red Conan again, who had managed to dispatch one toughy, but was hard pressed by the second. These fluffies were fanatics, prepared to fight to the death to secure their place in Skettyland. Red Conan saw that Rainbow and Scooby-guy were ready to run, so blew a raspberry at the last three toughies, turned tail, and ran after his friends.
Red Conan saw Rainbow running, struggling with the young purple filly.
“Nu! Put Pwum down!” the purple filly was protesting, “Nu wan go wiv stinky-poopie fwuffies! Wan stay wiv Snake Daddah hewd! Put down! Bad upsies!”
Grabbing the filly, Red Conan relieved his special friend of her weight, and continued to run. Behind him, he heard Scooby-guy yell “Wowstest sowwy poopies!” as he sprayed liquid shit all over a chasing toughie, causing him to splutter and slip over on the slippery excrement.
“Wun Scooby!” Yelled Red Conan, wanting to laugh, but wanting his friend to escape even more. By now, other fluffies from the Snake Daddy’s herd had woken up, and were peering into the corridor from side rooms and passageways, wondering what was going on.
“Wun!” Conan repeated, and ran himself, seeing Scooby-guy dart passed him, unencumbered in comparison to Conan, who was still carrying the struggling young filly, now restrained in a net on his back that they had brought with them for this very purpose.
Red Conan ran with all his might. The filly was heavier than even his armour was, so soon he fell behind, and twice he had to stand and fight, ripping into fluffies that tried to block his path with his horn-blade. Soon, he made it back to the main hall, and ran across the licked-clean floor, past stunned cleany-fluffs, towards the receding forms of Rainbow and Scooby-guy, who were already on the other side of the hall.
Red Conan ran and ran, hearing the cries and yells of a dozen toughies, not that far behind him. He cleared the floor of the main hall, and turned to the corridor which lead to the exit, only to see Rainbow and Scooby-guy, stopped still, with a wall of white robed fluffies blocking the exit, with a black-robed fluffy stood atop a pile of crates, yelling for them to surrender.
“YU MUST SUWENDEW! GIV BACK PWINCESS PWUM! OW GET WOWSTEST OWWIES!” the black robed fluffy insisted.
“NEVAW!” shouted Red Conan, “NEVAAWWWW!”
The black robed fluffy grinned evily, “In dat case,” he cackled, “Wewease da SNEK-MUNSTAHS!”
Red Conan and his companions looked on in horror as the fluffy’s minions tipped over a wooden crate, releasing dozen’s of slithering snake monsters. None of them were as big as Maximilian the Rock Python had been, but there were more of them than any fluffy could count, and they were indiscriminate in which fluffies they pounced on and sank their fangs into. Very indiscriminate in fact.
“Owwies!” cried a white robed fluffy as a snake bit it straight on the nose.
“Eeeek!!” screamed another, as a snake bit its front leg.
“Nuuu! Stoopid-dummeh Snake-Munstahs! Bite da BAD FWUFFIES! Nu bite da Snake Daddah hewd!” yelled the black robed fluffy.
“NAOW! WUN!” yelled Conan, and led his fluffy friends in a desperate charge through the confused mass of slithering snakes and crying, running snake-herd fluffies, who were shitting and pissing themselves in terror.
Red Conan felt snake monsters slithering against his legs, and felt fangs snap against his fluff, but fortunately, none of them pierced his flesh. He saw Scooby-guy dodging left, then right, then left again, veteran of a thousand nummy-thefts, used to dodging security guards and feral toughies, the smart brave fluffy managed to run the gauntlet of snake monsters unscathed.
Rainbow dashed as fast as she could, relying on her magical luck to make it through the writhing mass of snakes and fluffies. Her luck held for a while, and then it didn’t.
“OWWIES!” she shrieked, as a small, stripey snake monster sank its fangs into her back leg.
Red Conan stomped on the Snake monster, again and again, until it let go of Rainbow’s leg, and moved no more.
The fluffies ran of into the night.
Deep in a hidden alleyway that Scooby guy knew, the fluffies paused for breath. Red Conan dropped the net that contained the struggling form of Princess Plum onto the dirty concrete. He and Scooby guy looked on as Rainbow wailed and cried. They waited for Doctor Ronald’s Vroom monster to come and pick them up, just like they had planned. Surely the wizard could save Rainbow from the snake monster bitey owwies?
Rainbow was crying. She was laying on her side, and wailing about “wowstest weggy owwies.” Red Conan nuzzled her with his snout, then turned to have a look at her back leg. It was hard to see the tiny puncture wounds from the snake-monster’s teeth, but even in the flickering dimness of a streetlight, Red Conan could see that one of her milk places had turned entirely black.
“Huuu huu huu… Weggy huwties! Wainbow nu wan go fowevew sweepies! Wan wun, an pway, an hav babbehs wiv Wed Conan!”
Red Conan looked at his friend and gave her bestest huggies. Surely bestest huggies would make her owwies go away? Red Conan remembered the times his mummah-Jelly used to give him huggies, and tried his hardest to give all of his love to Rainbow, to make the owwies go away.
Rainbow gasped, and gurgled, and stopped breathing.
“Nuuuuu!” wailed Red Conan.
Moments later, Doctor Ronald showed up, his vroom munstah growling. He got out of the car and rushed over to the crying fluffies.
“What?” he asked, “What happened?”
“Wainbow was bited by a Snek-Mustah!” wailed Red Conan, openly weeping for his special friend.
“Pwease Doctow Won!” begged Scooby-guy, “Sabe Wainbow, use da magic sky-mustah zappy-owwie machine again!”
But Doctor Ronald took one look at her blackened flesh, and shook his head in despair.
“I’m sorry little guys, I can’t save her,” he said, “I’m sorry. She’s gone.”
“Nuuu!” cried Red Conan, to the uncaring night sky, “Nuuuuuuu!”
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