You are not an average guy. 29 years old, living pretty lavishly for your age. You work from home, inventing things in your spare time, pitching the ideas to companies. Half the time they reject them, people don’t exactly need a small ladder to put in the bath tub so that flies can get out, but other times they pay big bucks for your ideas.
Some people would describe you as “eccentric”, while others would describe you as “like a crack addict but he has no crack”. You dress in odd outfits, today you were wearing a pair of jeans, a labcoat, sneakers, a pair of thick black rimmed eyeglasses, and a t-shirt featuring the album cover to Fragile by Yes. But you also have a deep love of life, the world, and every living creature you meet. Every morning at 5:45 am you look over the city from your 17th floor apartment and smile, wishing every good person and creature on the planet a wonderful day. You walk past the old safe room you had set up for Philly, your fluffy. He used to love staring out over the city he was named after with you. But, he’s been gone for 2 years now. You aren’t upset about it anymore, he lived a long life, and he was happy.
A lot of people don’t really understand the appeal of fluffies. You aren’t quite sure you understand either. They’re very high maintenance pets, they can be annoying sometimes, and they’re notoriously dim witted. But you like them anyway. They’re fun, and they’re easier to understand than people, and they don’t constantly ask why you don’t make eye contact. You like talking to people, but for some reason you just find it easier to be around a fluffy. They don’t ask why you spent 30 minutes ranting about an episode of Family Guy.
Some people, on the other hand, love these creatures specifically because there are no laws protecting them. Entire forums dedicated to abusing these things in the most abhorrent ways, physical abuse, psychological abuse, even things like forcing them to re-enact Dragonball Evolution. You suppose that since fluffies aren’t exactly “natural”, they’re held to different standards. “Biotoys”, as they’re called. They’re basically animals in everything but law, which lets people treat them the same way they would treat a toy, or a rock. As far as you are concerned, a creation by humans is a creation by the universe itself. But you don’t get involved trying to stop people from expressing their free will. Most people stick to ferals, at least then their torture isn’t for the sake of torture. You can justify it as being a pest control type thing, considering that fluffies HAVE devastated the ecosystem in many areas, and destroyed a load of crops when they were first unleashed upon the world, and there was that whole thing in Cleveland. Place is still an irradiated crater, but it was before your time. And you can see how someone would be able to disconnect from these things and simply see them as incredibly advanced toys.
Some people, on the other hand, like to adopt fluffies from shelters, or pet shops, and then do what they want with them. Lets them revel in crushing their hopes. That’s something you’ll never understand, especially since the ones from pet shops or shelters are especially good at talking to people, and, in your opinion, are pretty damn close to 2 or 3 year olds in intelligence. Just very unsettling.
Fluffies get misplaced blame. They didn’t ask to be brought into this world, they didn’t ask to be released into the wild, left to fend for themselves by any means necessary, and they didn’t ask to be programmed the way they were. All that is on Hasbio. And PETA, but considering PETA was forcefully dissolved by the United States after the famine they inadvertently caused, they aren’t exactly around to receive any punishment. Hasbio, on the other hand, is still going strong. Granted, it’s in the form of accessories for fluffies, rather than fluffies themselves, but the point is they never had to atone for their actions. Even during the famine, Hasbio was still going strong. But what’s done is done. The universe has a way of sorting things out.
While you were thinking about all this, you decided to wander the city aimlessly. You ate lunch at Old City Pizza, went to visit Ben Franklins grave, check out some stores, and just generally wander. It was about 8 pm when you accidentally bumped into a very large looking man, causing him to spill a drink all over himself. It takes a second to realize what just happened. You look up at the man, and see a face that can only be described as “furious”. You apologize, and immediately start running in the opposite direction. You run about one tenth of a mile before you look behind you, realizing the man never started moving. It’s around that time that you crashed.
You hit the ground, landing flat on your butt. suddenly, a small pet carrier lands in your lap. You look around, and notice the person you ran into is lying on the ground, dazed. You walk over to him, checking to see if he’s alright. He’s fine, but hes still in a daze. You take a look in the carrier, and see 3 fluffies in severe distress, peeping and chirping. Two of them are missing limbs. You feel as if you can see some blood. You look down at the guy, whos slowly coming to, and you make a decision that you still don’t quite understand.
You reach into one of your pockets, pull out a pen and paper, and write the following note: “Hey, terribly sorry for bumping into you! Noticed that your fluffies appear to be injured, so I took them to the vet to get checked for any injuries. Call me at 267-867-5309 to get them back, but if you would rather buy some new ones, I can help with that too. Sorry again! :)”. You put the note in the mans breast pocket, along with 2 one hundred dollar bills to make up for the situation. You ask a pedestrian if they can help him, as you promptly leave for the vet, not realizing that you’re standing in front of a fluffy shop that could easily examine the fluffies.
You decide to stop for a second, sitting on a park bench and setting the carrier down. You open the carrier, peeking in at the fluffies. They cringe away from you when you look in, except for the brown legless one, whos upside down. After getting a more in depth look at you, they slowly shuffle around. A purple foal stands up and walks towards you. A quick look at it reveals that it’s actually a female, not male. “N-nyu daddeh?” she says, trembling. “What? Oh, no I accidentally ran into your dad and knocked him out. I thought you guys were hurt in the chaos, so I was gonna take you to the vet. Now that I think about it, this wasn’t a good idea, but I could just take you guys back to your dad.” The other two fluffies start talking now. “N-Nu! Pwease nu bwing back tu munstah daddeh!” You find their reaction to be curious. “Monster daddy? Why do you call him that?” You hear the brown fluffy say something, but its muffled because he’s still upside down and facing the wall of the carrier. You reach in and set him upright facing you.
“D-daddeh make Meatbaww have wowstest huwties, and make Meatbaww into no weggie dummeh babbeh.” he says, crying. The baby blue one starts talking now. “A-an den daddeh take babbehs back weggies, su huwties.” he’s crying as well. Then the purple foal starts speaking again. “A-and babbeh nu cud hewp bwuddahs, wowstest babbeh…” she says, crying. At this point, you don’t think you’re going to bring them back to their dad after all. Even if they wanted to go back, he doesn’t sound like the kind of person who would care about getting them back. Hell, you probably did him a favor, paying him for fluffies that are traumatized so he can just do it all over again. Weird people.
“Alright then, where should I take you guys?” The fluffies look up at you, confused. “C-can babbehs come home wif nice mistuh?” the purple one says. You figured that would be the case. Eh, might as well. You’ve taken care of fluffies before, you can do it again. Safe room is still set up, too, so that’s one thing taken care of. “Alright, sounds good then. You three can come live with me.” The three fluffies all smile, and start cheering and dancing. More wiggling in Meatball’s case. “I should probably give you names since we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together.”
You point to the purple foal. “You will be… Nebula. Since you seem like a Nebula.” The fluffy smiles up at you. “Yay! Nebuwa wuv nyu name!” You turn to the baby blue foal. “There’s a guy that I know of who can’t use his legs, liked to wear baby blue as well. You will be Johnny.” He smiles as well, and starts wiggling his remaining limbs in a sort of dance. “Johnny wuv be named Johnny!” he says, right before falling over and landing on Meatball. You turn to Meatball. “Something tells me you don’t exactly like your name.”
He looks down, sad. “Meatbaww meanie name, jus wemind Meatbaww dat Meatbaww no-weggie dummeh babbeh.” Certainly perceptive for a fluffy. Wonder if he realizes that his old dad named him like that on purpose. “Thank goodness, cause I have a much better name for you. You shall be Magnum, after my favorite TV private investigator.” The little brown fluffy smiles, a genuine real smile. “Dat name su coo! Wuv be named Magum!” He has a little trouble pronouncing it, but it doesn’t matter. The little guy is happy, and that makes you happy.
“Alright little friends, just a quick walk to my place.” you say, placing them back into the carrier. This day certainly took a turn for the interesting.
(Tried something different for part 2. I feel like odd numbered parts focusing on the fuckhead dude and even parts focusing on the weird eccentric guy is a good idea, but let me know what you think.)
