Mr. Adams’ Guide to Practical Fluffs - Part 8 – Episode 1 : Mutatis Mutandis
by Oculus
Featuring art by Carpdime, BDB and MEH
Continued from Gaiden III
You love fluffies!
And after a long period of not seeing Mr Adams, you finally got the chance to meet the man again. On the Saturday of your long-awaited and rather unusual discussion, which involved an unfortunate mind swap with a version of yourself from a parallel dimension, Mr Adams has come to you with an offer.
“And what’s that?”
“Prince! Come here.”
Prince, Sam’s loyal Carpdime fluffy rushes up to meet you. His white fluff glistens in the morning sun.
“Huwwo fwen! Nice tu meet fwen egen!”
“Laddie, I’ll need you to look after Prince for the next few days. Think you can handle that?”
Remembering what the other Sam said, and appreciating Prince’s cute face, you can’t help but take the offer.
“Yes. I’ll look after Prince.”
~
That discussion you had with the parallel universe Sam felt long. So, instinctively, you thought that Sam would have experienced a similar discussion, and thus, would be out of time.
“I take it you’ll be off on your way?”
“No, what would ever make you think that?”
Feeling a little surprised, you mention, “But you’re usually a busy guy.”
“I usually am, yes, but I managed to make some time for today. Plus, the other guy mentioned that rat utopia experiment.”
And it was then that you realized that, just as the parallel version of Sam talked to you about the rat experiment, so did your counterpart talk to Sam about the same experiment.
“I find it interesting,” says Sam, “that they conducted a replica of the rat utopia experiment, but with fluffies in that universe.”
“It never happened in ours?”
“No, it never did. There have been cases of fluffy abuse, as with any animal abuse stories but, in our history, we actively managed to campaign for fluffy rights to the extent that inhumane experimentation on fluffies was mostly outlawed. The reasoning was that fluffies were seen as sentient/sapient animals in our reality.
However, if they’re just seen as animals, or even biotoys, like they were in our earlier history, then it is perfectly possible that they may have been experimented upon.
I remember there was a breed that I was trying to track down. The Black Dragon Blood.”
“Ah yes, you mentioned that name. It sounds as kooky as FierceDeityLynx.”
“It is, which is why tend to refer to them as BDBs. There was a lot of experiments done with BDBs. One of the more horrid experiments I can remember was a fluffy that lived a happy life but died of natural causes. Her owner, a Hasbio scientist, tried to resuscitate her with cybernetic implants.”
“Cybernetic? As in a cyborg?”
“Yes, a cyborg fluffy. And it was a pitiful thing. Despite his best intentions, she could only manage one phrase. ‘Wan die.’
Since fluffies have the intelligence of a human child, but in the frame of an animal, they were seen as an alternative to lab animals for experimentation. It reminds me a bit of what Cutebox does with Squeakyfriends.”
“From what I’ve experienced, there seems to be a difference between fluffies that are mostly ‘experimental’, or have experimental traits, and fluffies that are actually domestic.”
“That’s an interesting description, laddie. But I like it. I do think it makes sense.”
“Indeed. I found it very hard to describe the traits of a Mutagen or KMEB, since they’ve been discontinued or rare, while everyone knows Carpdimes, Waggytails and Marcusmaximuses, because they’re so popular.”
“It seems to be the rarer the fluffy type, or the more limited their release, the harder it is to describe their traits.”
“You mentioned that BDB could be anagram for something. That other version of you was talking about a fluffy breed called a MEH.”
“A MEH! Now that’s a name I have not heard in ages.
MEH’s are a type 1 fluffy, much like the Carpdime, Marcusmaximus, Phantomfluffy and so on, and they were one of the earliest generations of fluffies to be released. But there’s not much I can say beyond that. They are a breed lost to time, much like the Inkie Pie and the KMEB. It is a good thing that the Carpdime fluffies have been re-released, especially by their own creator.”
“But not Hasbio?”
“Hasbio does not have a very good history. I think one can easily point out the long history of scandals within that company, and it is not too surprising that some of their best genetic engineers would leave the company to work independently.”
You then beg the question.
“How exactly does one rerelease a fluffy breed? Especially on their own?”
Carpdime fluffies being raised naturally (Artist:Carpdime)
“Well, here’s an interesting thing about the genetic engineer known as Carpdime. I don’t know much about Carpdime – he, or she, is a secretive individual – but a little research I have dug up suggested that Carp was a Hasbio official who got in early, but then left it and now mostly works independent. It may explain why he recently started a branch of fluffy farms, as well as experimenting on raising rural fluffies.”
You feel little frustrated as Sam hasn’t given you a direct answer. Nonetheless, you stick to his topic.
“So, you’re saying that Carpdime is now practising the release of more “natural” fluffies?”
“That’s the impression I’m getting, yes. It’s not a new idea – the Waggytail had a similar focus on natural elements. Carpdime also differentiates his urban fluffies from his rural fluffies. I have a feeling he disliked how fluffies were treated in urban based mills and is now making a move towards a more agricultural focus in the rearing and development of his line of fluffies.”
Mr Adams then looks at his watch. Judging from his expression, you can sense that the conversation was now coming to an end.
“By the way and speaking about BDB’s. There is a fluffy of the BDB breed I would like to show you.”
“Oh really? So, we’re heading to your house today?”
“No, not now.”
Sam looks at his watch again, as he informs you, “At about 7pm to 8. The later, the better.”
“Why so late?” you asked with a puzzled expression.
“You’ll see,” smiles Sam, as he continues, “and make sure that Prince goes to bed before you come and visit me.”
As you get up from the bench, a nagging thought lingers at the back of your mind.
“Why do you want me to look after Prince? I do like Carpdimes, but I’m not sure if I can look after one.”
“Well, we’ll see,” smiles Sam.
~
~Prince~
It is about 1PM.
Sam had provided you with some instructions regarding looking after Prince. Since he’s a Carpdime, he eats a bit more than the average Type 1 fluffy. Carpdimes have a bit of a voracious appetite and will consume about half a plate of vegetables (and spaghetti) than the average fluff. You’re a bit thankful that you had done shopping today and have enough salad and veggies for this large snowball of a fluffy.
“Alright then little buddy, eat up!’“Fanks fow da nummies, nice mistah!”
Following Sam’s instructions, you set aside an area with your room to be his temporary playpen. You managed to buy enough fluffy litter for one day and, using a small basin, create a makeshift litterbox for Prince. Finding a few spare boxes, and a ball, you provide them to Prince to play with.
“Tee hee, bwockies am so soft!”
Instead of grasping them like normal building blocks, Prince pounces at them and boxes at them, like as though he was a cat. You’re a bit surprised by Prince. Despite living in a mansion, and being one of Sam’s prized fluffies, he has taken well to living in your little apartment. Also, and despite the famed appetite of the Carpdime fluffy, Prince is well-behaved enough to do his business in the proper place.
Although it’s still the early afternoon, the recent inter-dimensional travel has sapped a bit of your morning energy, and you need to recharge. Heading to your room, while still dressed in your outdoor clothes, you lie on your bed, and sleep.
~
You had a weird dream. In your dream, you see a bunch of lines. They come together to form a fluffy. A carpdime foal. The foal then tries to jump in an attempt to fly but fails to do so.
You then see three different fluffies. All of them are Type 1s but have some minor differences. One is Pink, one is white, and the third has a colour that just doesn’t seem to exist. In that dreamlike quality, that fluffy shimmers between different colours. Out of the two fluffies, only the white one seems familiar.
That’s Prince, you mutter to yourself.
You look around. It seems to be a sort of park setting. The other two fluffies seem uncertain on what to do. However, Prince walks up to two of them, and with a big smile asks,
“Mistah hab nummies?”
~
Prince’s hooves are tapping on your bed. Somehow, he has managed to leave the play area, walk to your room, and tap on the side of your bed. Well-behaved as he was though, and well-trained, the Carpdime hunger is hard to manage.
“Mistah hab nummies?”
“Sure, sure”, you mumble.
You prepare a quick meal of macaroni and cheese. Being a pasta dish, Prince instantly recognizes what it is.
“Skettis!”
“Yes Prince, cheesy skettis.”
And within a few minutes, he gulps the whole thing.
“Yummy!”
Prince then looks at you yawn and feels a little concerned.
“Daddeh otay? Fwuffy am sowwy for distuwbing daddeh’s nappy.”
“It’s okay Prince. Nice misters can’t have too much sleep.”
“Oh otay.
Den, mistah wan pway?” says Prince, hoping to get upsies from you.
“Nah, its okay. But we can watch some TV if you want.”
“Otay!”
You then look through your DVD collection, finding the most inoffensive movie a fluffy can enjoy. You finally settle for Chariots of Fire.
Chariots of Fire was nominated for seven Academy Awards and won four, including Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay. It is ranked 19th in the British Film Institute’s list of Top 100 British films, and the film is also notable for its memorable electronic theme tune by Vangelis, who won the Academy Award for Best Original Score. All these facts mean little to Prince, as his mind grows tired from watching the movie.
“Fwuffy am tiwed.”
That did the trick, you smirked. As night-time looms, you carry the tired Prince to his playpen, and prepare a little bed of rags for him to sleep on, along with one used pillow.
“Gun’ hab guud sweepies.”
“Have a good rest Prince. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Otay, nice mistah.”
And within minutes, Prince’s falls asleep.
After a brisk shower and a change of clothes, you put on a coat, and make your way to Sam’s House
~
~BDB, or Black Dragon Blood~
After going through the usual formalities, one of the staff at Sam’s mansion guides you to the backyard. The staff member passes you a pair of gloves, as well as a face mask. She then guides you to the backyard of the mansion.
Sam is currently standing before a small orchard of sorts, with a pair of binoculars in hands. In front of him is a wooden table, filled with various apples.
You walk up to him, and say “ He-“
“Shh!”
He loudly shushes you, bringing his index finger to his lips, as he whispers, “keep your voice down!”
He goes back to looking through his binoculars.
“What are we looking for?” you ask, quietly
“Quiet. Just wait.”
He moves around with his binoculars. Then, he stands in one place, and tightens the lens.
“There she is.”
He makes a hand gesture of sorts. You’re not sure what it means.
The BDB Bat Fluffy (Artist:BDB)
With a sudden whoosh, a large fluffy flies through the air with an unmatched grace. You had heard about the PeppermintParchment Pegasus with the enhanced macaw wings, but this is a fluffy with fully formed and capable bat wings. As this chiropteran chimera flutters towards the table, it bares its fangs at you.
You recoil in horror but, Sam holds you.
“Relax, lad.”
As he says this, the bat fluffy takes a big bite of the apple on the table. She then says, very gratefully, “Appow nummies!”
You gasp, as you realize, “A bat fluffy!”
“Yes, and one of the rare pegasi types. Only three breeds have bat pegasi, the other two being the Fluffsplosion and the Squeakyfriend. However, the BDB was the first developed by Hasbio back in the day and has the distinction of being able to fly.”
“Those are very sharp fangs for a fluffy though! Aren’t they dangerous?”
“Hardly. They’re frugivores, and if you leave them alone, they stay in their trees. They’re rare however, and ABAP has been actively monitoring the few remaining BDB bat pegasi. These fluffies are meant to be left in the wild, since they are even more fragile than the common bat, which is an already fragile animal.”
The fluffy finishes its apple, eating the whole, core and all. It then takes a bow before Sam and flutters off.
“So, you called me out this way to only show me this?”
“Precisely, yes. The bat fluffies are one of the few BDB fluffies to have survived. There were rumours of a changeling fluffy, but those are even rarer and considered a myth. ( >>10857) The genetic engineer behind the BDBs was very talented but was more interested in experiments. Sadly, she left, as she found herself overworked at Hasbio. From what I heard though she’s doing fine.” ( >>25816)
“A shame though. That bat Pegasus was interesting.”
“I agree laddie, but those pegasi aren’t meant to be pets. Bats themselves can’t be kept as pets.”
~
It is 11pm.
You’re back home. You slowly open the door, switching on one light to keep the apartment a little bit dark. As you peer near the makeshift playpen, you see that Prince is still fast asleep. Smiling, you switch off the lights, then slowly head to the bed.
You think about the bat fluffies, as well as Sam’s talk about the changeling fluffy. You had heard Sam talk all kinds of oddities that the genetic engineers have done with fluffies. But how many of them exist? What would be the point of experiments like this?
As you dwell on that thought, your mind goes hazy.
~
“The Cave of Unspeakable Horrors”
You have no real interest to enter the cave. Wanting to find safety, venturing deeper would seem unwise.
But there is a white fluffy beside you. A white fluffy, resembling the BDB pat pegasi you encountered earlier. This bat fluffy is holding a map and trying to read it. She turns to you and says,
“Hewwo nice mistah. Can nice mistah hewp fwuffy with this bwanky?”
Before you can answer the Pegasus, you hear a tapping of hooves coming from within the cavern. It is getting louder….
~
“Mistah?”
Its Prince, tapping the side of your bed.
Feeling a little annoyed, you mumble, “What’s wrong prince?”
“Dewe’s a munstah.”
Grumbling to yourself, you climb out of your bed. Prince guides you to your closet. From there, you can hear a little rustling, as well as the pitter-patter of tiny footsteps.
“That’s odd,” you remark to yourself. You had heard the rumours about stray fluffies finding their ways into houses and making shelter the way some rats do, but that was a thing of the distant past.
Opening up the closet, you hear a tiny squeak, followed by a very muffled “Wun away!!”
Prince remains behind you. He’s a little nervous but having seen the small little things run away, he is not as scared. But you’re a little curious about what you’re seeing.
As you bend down, you see that, among the cobwebs gathering around the books and CDs that you have stowed away, a tiny colony of creatures seem to be existing. Some of them had run away, but, as you peer at them, you realize that they look remarkably like the KMEB cottonfluffies you had encountered all those months ago.
But the fibres on these tiny fluffies are not like cotton.
“Huwwo? Nyu daddeh?”
As the tiny fluffy says this, you touch the fluffy with your index finger, being careful not to hurt it.
“Heehee, dat tickwes!”
You look at your hand. The ‘fibres’ of the fluffy, if it may be called that, is nothing like cotton. It is like as though the fluffy was made from dust. Putting two and two together, you realize that what you’re looking at is a colony of ‘dust fluffies’, for lack of a better description.
A colony of Dust Fluffies (Artist:BDB)
You stop for a moment and think that you may be back in that dimension with the cottonfluffies. Your own home reality does not have bizarre subspecies like this. But, you’re not certain. For all you know, Prince may have whisked this fluffy into your house. But that seems unbelievable, as Prince, being of the Carpdime breed, is a Type 1 fluffy. According to Sam, Type 1s usually do not exhibit the ability to break the laws of physics.
Whatever the case, you want to keep a bunch of these fluffies by your side. You rush to the kitchen, ignoring Prince for the current moment.
“Mistah?”
With jar in hand, you run back into the closet and, using a spoon, scoop up the dust fluffies and place them within the jar. Remembering that the cottonfluffies lead short lives, there’s a possibility that these dust fluffies might also die out. Still, they look like an interesting specimen.
“Mistah?”
“Don’t worry Prince, I caught the monsters.”
You bend down and hold the jar up to his face and say, “See, the munstahs are in here, and won’t hurt you.”
“No, mistah. Dewe stiww am munstahs.”
Prince then stands on his hind legs and taps you on the forehead with his hoof.
With the tap from Prince’s hoof, you feel the sudden motion of your soul leaving your body. To your abject horror, you see your body slumped on the ground, as you feel your ethereal form moving towards the wall of the closet. Instinctively, you hold your arms up to shield yourself, but you notice that, being in a non-corporeal form, you can phase through the wall. Upon doing so, you see flashlight blinking through the darkened corridor. Wielding assault rifles, the men are decked in Kevlar and helmets, and mean serious business.
Through a force of will, you move your soul back to your body, and instantly wake up. Without thinking, nor reflecting on Prince’s ability, you grab the fluffy, and head straight for the window. Attempting to be discrete, you, tell Prince to close his eyes.
“OPEN UP!
Battle-dressed troops smash through the door of your apartment. You can see the fog of tear gas emanating from window, as well as the ray of their searchlights. Being somewhat nimble, you have managed to crawl from the ledge to the nearby emergency staircase, and from there, reach the ground floor. Finding the nearest manhole, you quickly enter it and to make your escape.
~
“Nu wike poopie smeww.”
“Me neither, little buddy, but we keep moving.”
A few hours have passed since Prince and you have been walking through the sewer tunnel. Looking behind, the men have not traced you yet. You have no idea how long you have been walking, but the first thing on your mind is to navigate your way to an area far from your apartment. Right now, the current plan is to find a manhole cover that leads to a more obscure spot, and then from there, navigate your way to Sam’s house. Well, if this was a safe reality – you fear the possibility to may very week be in the reality of the Hasbio Sam, if the jar of dust fluffies in your coat is any indication.
~
While walking through the tunnels, you had made a rather unnerving discovery. It came by total accident but, while walking, you passed by your pipes, when you heard the unmistakeable sound of fluffspeak.
“Hewwo, nice mistah.”
Stopping for a moment, you ask Prince if he made that random statement.
“Pwince nu say anythan.”
Looking around, to find the source of the constant babbling, you find a multitude of eyes, ‘hooves’ and mouths forming on an algae-green mass, growing on the side of a pipe. Resembling something like the Blob or the Thing, the mass seems friendly, but also somewhat immobile.
“Nice mistah am fwend?”
“Fwend!”
“Wub and huggies!”
"Mistah am nummies.”
Prince shrieks. Without a second though, you carry Prince in your arms, and run, run as fast as you can from that thing.
While running, the questions flash through your head. It spoke fluffspeak. It seemed to have hooves. And it seemed to have some resemblance to the fluffies you had seen before. But it was also a mold, some nightmarish horror that could have been potentially ravenous. The first question on your mind is what devilry created such an abomination.
But as you keep running, you remember that some of the Fluffsplosion fluffies had a similar amoebic trait of asexual reproduction through binary fission. Well, some of them did. Was this mould capable of the same thing? And then you remember the cottonfluffies that you encountered before, and the dust fluffies that you have in your jar.
For a brief moment, you ask yourself, “what makes a fluffy, a fluffy?”
~
You look at your watch. Its 3AM.
You have no idea where you are, but you assume that you haven’t walked in circles. As far as you know, the armed men who came for your house did not follow you into the sewer. You’re not sure which reality you’re in presently. You could very well be in the reality of Hasbio Sam. Or, you could be in the reality that you experienced on April Fools Day. Or this could be something entirely new. You had been whisked away to the world of the Posfluff, which took place in an alternate 1980s. What if this was a similar situation?
“Mistah! Up dewe!”
Prince tugs at you with his hoof, and points towards a manhole cover above you. You’re not sure about trusting this fluffy but, Prince did make you project your astral form. It seems to be that, like the Squeakyfriends and the Gowdies, this Carpdime fluffy was also capable of breaking the laws of physics. To put it simply, Prince was your best bet right now.
“Alright little buddy, let us go and see what is up there.”
You climb the ladder. Its greasy and slimy, caked in the filth of abandonment. Grabbing each rung, you make your way up to the manhole cover, and lift it.
With your eyes barely above the ground floor, you look left and right. It is an alleyway, and the adjacent buildings seem to be abandoned. This, apparently, looks like a safe spot. With Prince in your left arm, you lift yourself onto the floor, and stand up. The alleyway has some rubbish bins, all filled to the brim with trash. Oddly enough, you can see one half-eaten hotdog in a nearby bin.
As you walk around the alleyway, you see a newspaper. The headline, in bold letters, reads the following:
“NATIONAL INVASIVE SPECIES COUNCIL FORMED”
As you read the print, you read about the explosion of the population of fluffy pony biotoy products, the result of a raid by PETA on Hasbio. This was something that didn’t take place in your reality but seemed to have taken place in this one.
It is then that you notice the date. 2012.
You’re not sure if you’re in the 2012 of an alternate reality, or if this is an old newspaper of such a setting. But judging from the nearby flies and with rubbish bins, the newspaper is recent. Nevertheless, what you need now is answers.
“Mistah! Mistah!!”
Prince comes running to you for a moment. In reading the paper, you had forgotten the Carpdime fluffy by your side.
“Prince we have got to go.”“Mistah, nu! Dewe am a babbeh! Babbeh wif mummah, and babbeh’s mummah hab huwties!”
You can see Prince is pointing at a fluffy mare. Her lips are stained with spaghetti sauce, but she had not finished her meal. Given what you were reading in the paper, and the odd nature of a fresh plate of spaghetti in an abandoned area, it stands to reason that the dish was poisoned, and this fluffy mare was an unsuspecting victim. And, as Prince has pointed out so clearly, the mare had a foal in her care.
You do feel sorry. You really do. But you’re currently in an entirely different reality, one that is not your own. And right now, what you really need to do is find Sam.
“Prince, we have got to go. Come on.”
“Mistah, nu! Fwuffy hab gotta save babbeh!”
“Prince, this isn’t your fight. We need to find our way home!”
“Babbehs need wub and huggies! Pwince mu’ save babbeh!”
“PRINCE! CUT IT OUT!”
“NUUU!”
And with one gentle shove, you feel the soul pushed right out of you. However, it is different this time. The surroundings start to blacken, as if you are entering the void you had seen so many times. As you stare at your body, and Prince trying to wake you up, your astral form, goes to sleep…
~
You open your eyes
You think to yourself, “Good lord, how long have I been asleep.”
“Hoot. Hoot.”
You blink. That didn’t sound right. You try to speak another word. Something simple. Like, “fuck”.
“Hoot.”
You feel different. You look at your hands. But they are not flesh and five fingers.
They are now, paws
You see a puddle. You slowly move to it, and then, you realize.
You are walking on all fours.
“Hoot! Hoot!”
What the fuck. What the fuck is this?
You look in the puddle, and see the two glaring eyes of a barn owl, but with the body of a house cat.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
And in the middle of the night, you scream
for that is the only thing you can do now, as a puffy griffin
~