Turtle paced around the Sorry-Jail for what felt like forever. He’d tried to push his face against the rubber bars that made up the window but that didn’t work. Tapped at the door and asked nicely but that didn’t either. His brain wasn’t big enough to come up with any way to figure a way out of this predicament…and after five long minutes had passed he was let out and free to face down his biggest enemy of all time.
Where had Bruno the smarty gone? The stallion wandered around asking other fluffies if they had seen him. He wasn’t at the spaghetti trough, or any of the games. The big litterbox where good poopies went was empty too, unless you counted all the shit. He was basically stumped! As he walked in front of the X-Treme Fluffpile room though he could hear wails of babbehs in trouble. Turtle scanned his way into the room for the second time that day and burst in.
There was Bruno, bullying all of the little foals. They weren’t in a fun fluffpile anymore but instead a scaredy one, and you could note the difference by all of the crying and scaredy-poopies going on. The smarty was busy taking off all of their armbands with his mouth, clearly intent on robbing them of their prize ticket winnings!
“Smawty Bwuno. Tuwtel here naow.” The green stallion glared down at the meanie, who was busy pressing down slightly on a foal.
“Dummeh! Dis am smawty’s pwace!” He declared, Turtle standing still since it seemed like he wanted to step on the foal beneath him.
“Tuwtel stahp yew! Sabe all ‘da babbehs!” The heroic fluff announced, though something quite peculiar happened. The sleeping gas canisters rigged to the ceiling of all Sketti Dave Fluffy Funzone X-Treme Fluffpile rooms would discharge. Why would they have sleeping gas canisters? Ever since the great enfie munstah incident of ‘87…but’s a story for another day.
Both fluffies wobbled and fell over to their sides. When they awoke?
They were in the dank basement of the place. Bruno and Turtle both stood up shakily, blinking with confusion. “W-wha…?” Bruno asked, puffing up with anger at once. “Wewe am Bwuno!? Smawty gib wowstest huwties!”
Just then, an authoritative and commanding voice from the corner of the room. There was a human there who was cloaked in shadows.
“I’ve brought you both here to settle your disputes like gentlemen. For you see, I am Sketti Dave! The REAL Sketti Dave!”
Turtle gasped with excitement. “Wub! Wub ‘ou Sketti Dabe! Su egcited! Wub fun pwace!”
“Yes, well.” The ‘real’ Sketti Dave said with a trailing voice. “As I was saying. You both prize your winnings. And YOU, Turtle.” The man knew his name because of the collar the fluffy wore but, he still gasped in amazement anyways. “You prize this as well.”
A spotlight flicked on in the corner. There, the foals that had been in the X-Treme Fluffpile room were all piled together and tied up. Not only that, an anvil like straight out of a cartoon from the 1940s dangled above them precariously, held only by a sliver of rope.
“Hewp!” The terrified mewling of a pink female.
“Su scawed!” Howled a sobbing poopie.
“Hab skettis naow?” One asked, curiously.
“Sketti Dabe…am bad!?” Turtle queried, but the Head Pasta Man had no time for such things.
“Good. Evil. It doesn’t matter. Win and you save them. Lose and your foe, Bruno, gets to watch as they’re crushed. And, uhh, he’ll get this mare.” Another spotlight flicked on to a different corner, showing an especially dumb looking yellow mare with her tongue sticking out.
“Smawty am hab mawe!” Bruno declared confidentially, giving her his best enfin’ eyes.
“Tuwtel sabe babbehs! ‘N hab pwize ‘fo daddeh.” The earnest green stallion added in.
“Excellent! I knew you two boys were the sporting sort.” Sketti Dave continued, a noodly hand reaching out from the shadows. A single die was tossed out to the pair, clattering on the cold cement and resting at Bruno’s hoof. “The game is simple: Roll for the highest number. So simple…even a fluffy could manage.”
Turtle wagged his tail happily. “Wub games!”
Sketti Dave held up an index finger. “Oh. I’ve just decided, if you lose I’ll kill you too.”
The stupid mare in the corner suddenly blurted out: “Wan speciaw huggies!”
Will Turtle overturn fate itself and save not only himself but the babies?
