You are Robert and right now you are with your pet fluffy Homestar. “Aww we thew yet?” He asks his big blue eyes like dinner plates despite only being in the car for about one minute. You sigh looking over him, god you love him but he can be an idiot sometimes, “Not yet hamstray,” you say gently making sure to keep your eyes off the roads so no one dies in a car crash. This is a major concern for you because you are in a fluffy pony story and not a raging asshole, and therefore are likely to die in a car crash or something like that. Homestar puffs his cheeks up, not so much in anger but in mild dejection. Homestar, the fluffy currently riding shotgun to you in a booster seat is a Stallion with white fur, a blue mane and his back legs. You were pretty sure he lost them in some sort of accident but the prosthetics you got him seemed to work just fine. Besides fluffies didn’t seem to move their joints much anyways. Homestar looked down a bit, clearly trying to work out some answers with his simple brain before rapidly looking up at you, beaming like he figured out Quantum Gravity. “How wong tiww Homestaww see fwends?” Clever, not much more raw brainpower than the average fluffy but he did tend to use it more. You liked to think you taught him that, though maybe it was just having to find work arounds for a massive disability in childhood. You stare at the street trying doing some thinking of your own. “8 minutes.” Homestar looks at you even more bright eyed little mouth agape, “Sewiousy?”. You nod, you know he can’t count past five, no fluffy can, probably some kind of world domination prevention measure by Hasbio but he can definitely tell it’s a short amount of time by your tone. Fluffies were supposed to be emotionally intelligent after all, at least in the ways a pet should be. Overall the drive was nice you listened to Styx and Homestar singing along to Runaway was hilarious, plus you’d rather have him singing off key to blaring music then pestering you about how long it was. You disembark at the Fluffy Park, carefully unbuckling the happily wiggling Homestar as he nearly leaped into your arms, purring and rubbing you incessantly. You deftly maneuver him into your left arm as your right reaches for your swipe card. Can’t be too safe, a lot of weird fuckers want to do a lot of shit to any fluffy they can get their hands on and the ones who went after domestics here were usually really fucked up, and way too unathletic even to catch the slightly more skittish ferals. The door opens with a hiss which elicits a happy Pavlovian squeal in Homestar as he unintentionally tries to wiggle free of your arms. “Woah there jumping bean.” You say trying to calm him as as he giggles, “Sowwy daddeh, Homestaw jus so Excited, sewiouswy!” Your face naturally forms a half lidded grin as if the he was sucking nervous energy from you into him while an aura of happiness surrounded you both. Homestar gasped and was now shaking his prosthetics even faster. “Fwends!” He cried to a resounding chorus of either “Homestaw!” or “Play”. Not wanting the opportunity to safely get him out of your hair for a bit you put him down and he goes bounding off to his tap in herd while you decided to go say hi to some of the owners. Granted you weren’t super close but they were decent people, Louis with his Earthie mare Bread, Evelyn with her mated Pegasi Laugh and Sing, Todd whose Earthie mare Gadget had just given birth as evidenced by the chirpies on her back, and Mary with her unicorn three foals Huey Dewey and Louie. There were other people but these four just happened to be the ones who had the same schedule as you did. Overall people were nice here, and most of them actually trained their fluffies except for one person, Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn and her little screaming abomination Supreme were the bane of your existence at least between 12-2 on Saturday’s and 3-4 on most Thursdays. There tended to be two kinds of people who bought fluffies, those who bought natural borns because they felt a bit of empathy for these poor sweet dumbasses, and those who got them custom made as status symbols. Kaitlyn, whose name even hinted at rich bitch was the latter, never had to work a day in her life and figured that the universe owed her a favor for allowing herself to exist. Her fluffy Supreme was a giant hyper neotenic abomination with a massively phallic red horn, a feature along with several other that earned him the nickname “The Knot” among most park goers. Supreme was fat, even for a fluffy, like so fat people would probably think he was a pregnant mare if he wasn’t constantly erect. Because he was custom made to her specifications, and therefore was her creation she treated him as if he was somehow miles above every other living thing besides her and it showed. He was a bully, an attention whore and you even heard a that he recently attempted to rape Sing. In short nobody liked them, and you were even tempted to stomp the little fucker’s skull after you saw him torturing poor Homestar with his horn sparks. Still a few people in your group were either big enough pushovers like Mary, or gold diggers like Todd who let her be a member of the club. You rationalized this as an example of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. After all if they were close you could make sure you could stop the thing before it decides to eat Homestar and the rest of the Fluffies you have some attachment to. “Supweme am bestest fwuffeh” is heard throughout the structure, oh look there they are now. Supreme makes a dash to the small picnic table you set up knocking over several other Fluffies as Kaitlyn practices her finest high heeled bitch walk. “Ugh today was so draining.” Kaitlyn Groans as Supreme keeps scrambling to the cooler on the table, making a few disturbingly enf like grunts. “Like I just had to cut so many toxic people… you know how it goes.” She is currently making eye contact with no one. Not in the way that says I’m shy, more in the way that advertises this message is for the whole universe. The rest nod in false agreement, clearly aware that she is in good with some very powerful people. You just remain stoic transfixed by the little sack of lard ignoring all the other fluffies as it wobbled and strained at the cooler that was just out of it’s reach. Uttering the occasional cry of, “Dummeh box! Wan Nummies!”which no one human or fluffy felt the need to respond to. It was almost a little sad, the rest of the fluffies were bounding and playing through the grass and the poor little asshole had now spent a good five minutes re enacting the myth of Tantalus. You turn your attention towards Homestar who is looking at Gadget’s babies in complete awe as if they were the most marvelous thing in the universe. You would neuter Homestar but at this point in his life, he’d already been through enough, plus maybe things would work out and he’d be gay. Which did happen, and unless you wanted to start a farm it was preferable because getting a single foal for 10-20 bucks beat having to take care of a litter of 6 until they were what expert called “Takkeh Babbehs”. Well at least if he was straight and you did get a mare, he’d probably be a good dad based on his unusually gentle treatment of the chirping little fluffballs. In fact besides Kaitlyn’s bitching and Supreme’s disconcertingly sexual grunts things were pretty peaceful. Then there was a loud thud quickly followed by the sound of tearing plastic. You turn to see that not only has Supreme’s sheer weight knocked over the cooler but he is currently adding to his already tremendous girth. As he continues to shove sliced banana and peanut butter sandwiches into his mouth you are almost amazed at how he isn’t choking on the plastic wrap. Hell maybe he was smarter than he seemed as the little shitter managed to get up on the table and pierce open your carton of strawberry muscle milk. Of course you wanted to swat the thing off but right now you were almost too shocked to move. Louis is trying to beat the thing but Todd and Mary are restraining him as Kaitlyn hugs the gorging creature to her chest.
A shrill voice cries out “meanie Supweme eat all da nummies!” apparently Bread is fed up with his shit, good for her. The other fluffies join her in a chorus of “No wike” and “meanie!” This angers Supreme. “Supweme no am Dummeh!” Bread steps up again shaking one of her front hoofsies, “Supweme dummeh an Supweme fattie fwuffy!”. Supreme wiggles out of his owner’s twiggy arms and charges at Bread moving surprisingly fast for something whose organs are clogged in cellulose and barrels into the poor mare pinning her to the ground. She’s an earth pony so in the long run she’ll be fine, but you could only imagine the carnage if Jabba here landed on a Pegasus. Louis is now livid and begins to charge as the Supreme’s eyes go wide with fear, but then as usual Kaitlyn runs up to him and starts uselessly hitting his chest and screaming about fatshaming. Which is a habit Kaitlyn participates in often. Louis tries to throw her off but that Catholic upbringing just can’t let him suckerpunch a girl. “Weave fwend awone!” Homestar butts into bread knocking his cap off his little head. To humans these were pitiful but to fluffies this was a fight to the death. “Owwies!” Cries Supreme in a temporary state of shock muzzle raised as he falls off poor bread who can only hobble to safety. Still, Supreme wasn’t no bitch, well for a fluffy he wasn’t a bitch. His “huus” and sobs turned to an admittedly pathetic growl as he sparked his horn and aimed it at Homestar. This was a very bad idea on Supreme’s part.
A Unicorn’s horn is essentially a part of it’s nervous system connected to the corpus callosi and amygdala, so inside that horn there’s actually quite a bit of soft tissue. The horn itself mainly acts as an electron trap which activates when positively charged potassium Ions flood into the brain causing the air to glow via ionization. This is actually why unicorn horns spark a bit if they get super excited due to a glutamate rush, it’s also why they tend to be prone to epilepsy as that much of a charge difference in a nervous system isn’t exactly safe. Being a model whose guiding philosophy is bigger is better, Supreme of course has a massive horn that shoots massive sparks. They were actually pretty fucking painful but luckily not dangerous, this was also probably why he ate so much food. That and Kaitlyn just spoiled the little bastard with cupcakes 24/7 so she could post him on R/Chonkers. Anyways at this point Supreme had just eaten enough Banana’s for around, 8 fluffies maybe a little more since Gadget was nursing and for some reason people acquiesced to giving Supreme the giant portions he demanded. Anyways along with the fact that Banana’s contain lots of healthy fats and sugars, they also contain both a shitton of potassium and small amounts of positrons. While said positrons are usually harmless in the dosages, the amount he ate most likely would amplify the Unicorn horn’s lightning rod effect.
A Kamehameha like beam of light begins to form around Supreme’s horn as he gives an angry “huuu.” He sounds like if one of the chipmunks was having a roid rage fit and would be hilarious if your pet wasn’t in the way of his rampage. He continues to Huu, but this time his fur seems to be collecting static electricity as it puffs up even more. His body begins to spasm as his eyes are no longer closed with anger but tensing due to unwanted muscle contractions. Kaitlyn is now hyperventilating over the fact that her fluffy is clearly in pain as blood starts to run from it’s muzzle from how hard it’s biting it’s tongue. It’s eyes shoot open, it’s back legs kick, and then…
IT’S HEAD EXPLODES. The Horn goes first shattering like shrapnel, before chunks of smoking fur and grey matter shoot in a circular raidus of around 4 feet. You think you even see an eye splatter on Louie’s face. Blood and nerve endings fall to the ground as the continues to spasm wildly, it’s limbs now governed by the thousands of amps shooting through it’s nervous system. It’s not running like some urban legends would tell you because right now a clump of greyish pink that might have been it’s cerebellum is currently laying on Mary’s shoes. Then with a last shake of it’s leg in a hideous imitation of the dancie babbeh pose it falls to the ground it’s stomach exposed to the sky as what little of the neck stump that wasn’t cauterized bleeds out onto the verdant green grass. A final torrent of piss shooting out like one last swan song before it’s unnaturally large penis falls limp.
A chorus of a thousand crying Fluffies and Kaitlyn’s wailing fills the park overpowering the pleasant Babymusic tm. You rush over to hug Homestar who is now covered in blood and looks like he’s having a panic attack. You run to hug him grabbing him tightly in your arms and ignoring the blood now coating your white Enter The Dragon T shirt as he begins to sob into your chest. The owners who aren’t stuck in place are probably doing the same, or taking videos laughing their asses off but who gives a shit. In the end your priorities right now are Homestar and you, and all that matters is that both of you are still breathing
Thirty Minutes later
Homestar is finally beginning to calm down, hell you weren’t sure if you were calm until ten minutes ago. This wasn’t because you had any attachment to the little lardass but more due to worries Homestar might get injured by the Shrapnel, luckily he wasn’t. He was covered in blood and traumatized but physically he seemed fine. So were most of the Fluffies besides Bread, who had gotten a bit cut up but nothing critical. Kaitlyn was still inconsolable and desperately video taping herself as you and just about everyone else left to clean yourselves and your fluffy. You think you’re gonna make Homestar some Spaghetti with Alfredo, you aren’t sure if it’s a good idea to use tomato for the next couple weeks, and that’s for both your stomachs.