This is my first story I wanted to get out of my head upon returning to the FC. It’s inspired by my gameplay experience with Casual Fluffies, and I intend for the main part of the story to include screenshots from the game as both visual media, and the emergent gameplay would affect the story itself. (I also have a working copy of CF if anyone wants the files)
Any content I post or produce is 100% for the community, feel free to take my stories and change em or make illustrations without asking, not that they’re worth that effort. Just DM me or something because I’d love to see it!
Fluffies are well known for invading yards and infesting suburban neighborhoods. Usually a smarty wanders into the wrong man’s property with the goal of food and safety for his herd, only to be the direct cause of their slow, painful executions. We’ve heard it a million times. Truth be told… I begged for it. I always wished a huge herd would find themselves in the middle of my yard as I latch the gate behind them, tricked with promises of spaghetti and faux-fear of the shithead smarty’s empty threats. My tone would flip, I imagine it, as soon as the latch locks. The fantasy went something like this:
“I’ll go and get your sketties right now Mr Smarty, please, please don’t hurt m- ka-chik Everyone listen carefully! New daddy has something important to tell you. I lied to all of you! Now, you’re trapped in my yard. Don’t worry trying to escape, look, I put landscape edging alllllll around the bottom of the fence. It would take days to di-.”
“HEY! Wah dummeh humeh sayin’? Dis smawty pwopewty nao, nu cawe abou’ da NAP! Smawty make stupeh HUMEH wan ‘scape yawd aftew he twou’ wih 'ou!”
“Wow! Such fire! I can tell you really want to protect your herd, Smarty. Isn’t that right, guys? Look how tough and smart he is. You all put your trust into HIM to protect you and keep you safe and fed… and now he led every single one of you to forever sleepies! That’s right, I’m going to make sure each and every one of you, every foal, every mare, and especially our Smarty here, dies a slow, agonizing death, and I’ll make sure you all stay alive just long enough see how many hurties every fluffy in the herd is feeling, babies included!”
“Wah?! Smawty feww fow twick! Mabe nu so smawty aftewaw… huu huuu… scawy humeh twick 'ou an now we gon git wowses owwies! Smawty wowses weadew EBUH! Huu huu huu huuuuu…”
I imagine the whole herd in shock. The smartest of them, the ones who’ve escaped abusers in the past, know what humans are capable of. Those ones shit themselves completely, breaking down in tears and laying prone in their own piss. Maybe we’ll get a wan die loop from the one with scars all over its back! The less worldly of the shitpack might still have some balls, giving pathetic protests and threats. Hopefully they’d begin berating the smarty, I can’t take it when they stand up for their leader like that. He’s the one that signed the death warrant!
One of the younger fluffies, maybe a week off the teat, begins a beeline for the closed gate. He won’t get out, no way, but it’s a good chance to demonstrate how little tolerance I will have for insolence. My face goes blank and I walk like the T1000 right past the herd like they’re not there. The mother realizes where her baby went and begins to panic, crying about not hurting the baby and begging him to come back. The yard falls into a painful silence after the rubber of my boot sole grinds his spine into meal beneath my heel. No protests… they now realize I’ll only make it worse for them if they bitch.
“Now, you’re all going to die in this yard when I decide you will die. You will suffer a lot before this point, so don’t expect a fast death. However, I am willing to make a small deal. Your Smarty deserves the worstest hurties of all for gettting you into this mess, don’t you agree?”
“Nu! Nu wan huwt smawty! Smawty am speshuw fwen!”
“Hm, interesting. Well… I told you all that you’re dead already. But… I’m willing to spare your bestest baby if you do something for me. Pick your BESTEST baby, the best one in the herd, and I’ll be his new daddy and raise him with love. If… you all come together and eat a bowl of spaghetti made with the legs, tail, and horn of your smarty. AFTER, his special friend rips those parts off with her teeth.”
Panicked discussion breaks out, some joining in the ex-abuser-owned fluffies in their miserable piss-puddles, reduced to quivering, subservient tumors with legs and eyes. The stench of shit fills the air as bowels empty in anticipation of the coming terror. I grab the smarty by the scruff and drop him right in the center of the convulsing pile of filthy rats.
“Nu… nu wan num smawtie pwaces, buh nyu daddeh pwomise sketti… huuu huu huu…”
Wait, didn’t I already tell them they’d be eating their own smarty’s parts?! Holy shit! They really are such vain creatures! They act so upset as they tear the little fucker’s appendages off, but they do it willfully in order to eat spaghetti… some of them even seem to relish in swallowing small chunks of flesh as they remove his ears and tongue with their dull teeth and weak jaws. Fucking lying pieces of shit, they don’t care for him at all, they just want to eat and breed. Foul things… if only I had pulled the trigger and bought that roofing torch when it was on sale!
Of course, accusations of being a hugboxer aside, I do love me some justice. I’d obviously take the bestest baby THEY pick (after they mutilate their former tsar) and bring out my deli slicer. Set to the finest thickness and take my time.
“Peep… Peep! Peep… Da… dadda? Peep! Pe… PEEP! PEEEEEP! SCREEE! SCREEEEEE!”
“BABBEH NU! SWISY MUSHEN BAD FOW BABBEH PWEASE!”
* bzzzzzzzzzzzzSCHWIPzzzzzzzzzzzSCHWIPzzzzzzzzzzSCHWIPzzzzzzzzz *
Then I’d have them clean their poopy baby and raise that one as my own after a month or two of gluing weights to testicles, sanding down corneas, force-feeding fiberglass insulation, and operating all sorts of SAW-like contraptions with his herd. How kind of me! I’d love to train a fluffy to be a self-hating racist, maybe even redpill him to the point where he joins me in torturing the filthy, bad fluffies. I’d have to freeze the meat (well, the meat that wasn’t consumed by the other fluffies, burned to cinder, melted into goo with acid, torn to smithereens by 12ga birdshot, or left to rot off of its host in necrosis) in case another herd came through later. That’d be a great way to let them know how fucked they were, promise some sketties and come out with horrific chunks of frozen fluffy for them to thaw with their lickies… only after that glorious gate was latched… ka-chik
Well, that’d be great. But I was never lucky enough for a fluffy invasion in my own yard. So I decided to do what I could to recreate the experience artificially. I put some dog treats in my pocket, grabbed a homemade dog catcher stick in case the treats weren’t effective, and took off for the local park one night. These bastards are usually everywhere, but I really struggled to find any this time. I decided to take one more look at the bushes near the public bathroom. Jackpot! A whole group of fluffies! No foals it seems, and I don’t see any fat whores so none coming soon. And… how odd. They all seemed to be very polite and friendly with each other, playing and giggling contently. I took a few moments to pay attention to each one on it’s own and concluded that none of them were acting like smarties, even the foals… shame, I loved the idea of killing them the most. Well, at least none of them were outwardly smarties. I wasn’t going to look a gift fluffy in the mouth here, so I tossed a treat from my pocket right into the center of the herd.
I’m not sure when the next part is coming. I have the whole thing lined up in my head, but not sure how exactly I’ll implement Fluffy Casual edited screenshots. I think I’ll have to have a day this week where I’ve got the whole bitch to myself to sit there and experiment with FC and get the results I need.