Your niece wants one of those fluffies for her birthday, and you’re at a loss. You hate those things. They’re gross and dumb creatures, marketed to kids as a “cute toy.”
Now you don’t want to waste your hard earned money on these shit factories that can die if someone looks at them wrong, but you do love your niece and want to give her something she really wished for on her birthday.
Thinking how you’ll manage to afford a fluffy, you take a stroll through your neighbourhood. While passing by a plot of overgrown bushes, you hear something…
ITS A FUCKING PREGNANT FLUFFY, hiding among the overgrown grass. You are curious, and you study it for a bit. It’s snoozing, and in the middle of its nap, it’s calling itself a “soon mummah”… You chuckle to yourself because it reminds you of a Pokemon, repeating their names, and here a pregnant fluffy is reassuring itself as a “soon mummah”, as if it cannot believe the rotund form it has taken. You decide something then and there. You have seen one of your neighbours buying and bringing home a “mummah supwise”, and after taking in the dam, they’ve discarded the box outside. A brilliant idea forms in your mind, and you cautiously reach the soon mummah.
It freaks the fuck out. You figure out that it’s definitely a runaway, judging by the bow and the fact it has a name. It’s scared to death at the sight of a human, so it definitely ran away to have babbehs, and its owner probably threatened to off it, if it ever returned.
You calmly explain to the beached whale that you don’t want to kill it, INFACT, you want to give it a new home and a new owner, and promising it of love, Huggies and spaghettis. Its demeanour instantly fucking changes, as if a switch has been pushed.
It agrees to come along with you, but since it can’t walk, you huff and carry it with your arms. You put it on your driveway, and scavenge through your neighbour’s trash can and rescue the discarded mummah supwise box.
“Apple bloom!”
“YUS! Wha hoomin wan?”
“Get inside this box please.”
“W-Wha—??? Nuuuu, nu wan sowwy box, am gud fwuffy! nu deswebe sowwy box… huuuuhuuu”
You decide you don’t have the patience and you literally have to attend the party tonight, so you grab it by the scruff, and shove it inside the box.
“Ba upsies! Ba upsies!”, in almost a monotone pre programmed robotic voice trying to feign human emotion, it whines out. And when you tape the box shut good as new, it has a freak out session again, claiming it can’t breathe inside the sorry box and it is infact, dying.
You wonder how this living biotoy will survive till the evening inside a cramped plastic box, so you try reasoning with it-
“I’ve had it with your tantrums so stfu and listen up! I’m giving you as a gift to my niece, and by this ‘dark time’, you’ll have a new owner, a new house and everything! So please don’t soil yourself and hold on tight because you are literally not gonna be my problem after some hours, and this, is a gift box, and you are a GIFT, so please cooperate”.
As soon as you explained the fluffy’s predicament to it, it started behaving like a brand new toy, a perfect gift. You wondered how it was choking before but apparently can breathe inside the box just fine now; but overthinking is not good for your nerves so you just roll with it.
This is my first attempt at text posting, part two May or may not be coming soon
, I feel like you should have left the hair bow unaddressed. But amazing none the less, I love how cute the fluffy is.
bow 
