Idea came about from shit posting in general chat. Art provided with permission by @Hamsalot. Please go follow them.
You are Dingus and you are a genius. You are probably the smartest of smarties to have ever smarted your way out of smartiesville. You’re not a bad looker either with your blue coat and cream mane. But you are not alone as you have your trusty goons… who also happened to be your brothers.
There was Bumble, the yellow coated and orange haired middle brother, who also held the team position as the numbers guy, the only fluffy you know that can count all the way up to 14, an intellectual juggernaut in the mathematic arts, although you’d never tell him that to his face.
And finally there was dear Sniff, the puke green and turquoise maned youngest of your troop and the muscle. Although in truth Sniff was not strong due to body mass but simply due to the fact that he had been lobotomized from the moment he fell out of your dear mother’s womb, landing horn first on the concrete. Where that horn went you aren’t entirely sure, gut now his eyes kind of pop and blink at different times.
You three are master conmen amongst your race, you have scammed nummies out of every fluffy you’ve ever come across with your superior combined intellect of a whole two IQ points.
But today is different, As you and Bumble have been using discarded napkins and a thrown away packet of crayons from the trash to form a magnificent blueprint to your most grandiose heist yet.
“ay, du Dingus tink dis am gun wowk?” Bumble asked as he crunched the numbers on a calculator he found from the trash thats had a dead battery since 2004.
“twust! Dis am gun be Dingus bestest pwan eba!” you assured him, “Afta dis heistie, we gon be on cwoud… Uhh… Cwoud…”
“six?” he interjected.
“yeh, dat wun!” you said confidently, although deep down you weren’t entirely sure.
You’ve been preparing for this ultimate heist and afterwards you would have everything you needed to finally settle down with all the mares, nummies and all the enfies that your weasely little black hearts could ever want.
You had been renting out Sniff’s poopie place to other fluffies in exchange for the paper and shiny thingies that humans would sometimes drop on the floor when they walked by, “munies” as they called them. Sniff didn’t seem to mind, it’s not like he spoke up with a complaint… then again, he never spoke, but you were sure that if he didn’t like it he would have said something. But regardless, Bumble did the maths and you now had enough. It was now time for phase two in your grand plan.
Your name is Donna and you are a 48 year old charity shop worker. Typically the days come and go and nothing really stands out to you, and you like it that way. But as of late, you have been occasionally visited by three very unique customers. Three fluffies who occasionally wonder in through the front door and proceed to sniff and feel the coats and stare at the hats on display.
You’ve tried shooing them a few times but they always come back. So you’ve taken to telling them to come back when they had money to spend, otherwise you’d have them battered with a cricket bat. But to your surprise they did return and with money to-boot.
The yellow one dropped £14.55 at your feet and looked up at you with pleading eyes.
“am dis gun be nuff?” he asked.
You sighed loudly and picked up the combination of loose change and crumpled up paper notes and placed it on the counter.
“ok, boys… What in heavens name could three fluffies possibly want in here? We don’t sell fluffy food, you know?” you explained as you pinched the bridge of your nose.
“nu nee nummies, nee dat ting ober dewe, dewe, an dewe!” the confident looking blue one said as he darted his hoof towards a matching brown trench coat and fedora, then finally a stick on mustache from a little pranksters kit. Just by glancing the tags you knew that they couldn’t afford all three and explained it to them.
“sorry, lads, you only got enough for two out three, so what’s staying behind?”
Immediately the three huddled up and two of them began whispering to each other while the third one just sort of stared at the ceiling with his unnaturally bulbous eyes.
“OTAY! nu nee da facie mane, jus dem udda tings!” the blue one grinned as he spun around to face you again.
“am Dingus suwe? Bumbwe tink dat hattie am nu as imp-ow-tent fow da jo-” the yellow one added before getting a backhan-, err, backhoof to the kisser.
“shud it, dummeh! Yew gun teww hoomins ouw suwpew secwet pwans!” the sapphire coated little Caesar huffed before turning back to you.
“so… do you want a receipt?” you asked.
Your name is Bumble, your cheek hurts a little but you have to bear it, just like you bear all of your older brother’s plans. He’s got it into his head that instead of doing small and safe little jobs here and there, he would do one big heist and with it you will never have to resort to food thievery or prostitution ever again.
“Com on! Otay naow. Wet Dingus on toppies” he said as he tried climbing on your back like he was still a chirpy baby. You knew this wasn’t going to work but you also knew that you can’t argue with your stubborn brother, he was too dense and two violent, it wasn’t worth the hassle. So you simply rolled your eyes, gritted your teeth and welcomed the crushing weight on board. Then finally while perched up against the side of the alleyway wall the two of you crawled onto the back of Sniff, who actually didn’t seem to mind whatsoever.
“otay, naow hewe it coms!” Your leader said as he grabbed the long fabric and threw it over you.
“Ahhh nu wike! DAWKIES!” you cried until your brother gave you a sorry hoofing to the back of the head.
“Shuddep, dummeh Bumbwe!” he ordered, “NAOW! WAWKIES DEWE, SNIFF, JUST OBEW DA WOADIES!”
You could feel your brother below you walking. You nearly peed yourself as you heard the vrooming monsters zip by from behind and in front.
“OI! OFF THE ROAD YA FOOKIN’ MONG!” you heard a grumpy human shout as you passed him and finally onto the other side of the road.
“Heaw dat, Bwuvahs? Dummeh hoomin tink dis-gui-zee am Mong, nu fwuffy!” Dingus said proudly, “Naow, wawkies a wittwe bit mowe an am dewe!” he added excitedly.
Your name is Michael and you work at Le Spaghett’. You hate your life, you hate your girlfriend and above all else you hate the fact that you are probably going to be stuck in this job for the rest of your life.
You felt a shadow loom about in your vicinity, typically that meant a new customer and so without looking and with phone in hand you said the same bloody line you’ve been repeating for the last three years.
“welcome to the Le Spaghett’, how may I help yo-” you froze in your tracks as soon as your eyes looked up. Standing before you were clearly three fluffies standing on each other’s backs with a trench coat thrown over them and a hat on top. For a moment you thought that the micro dose of LSD you took this morning may have been too much but your fears about being trapped in a hallucinogen dungeon were quickly abated when the one on top decided to speak as if he was trying desperately to deepen his voice.
“hewwo nice mistah! Fwuff- ummm Hoomin wan many sketti” he said, followed with a tiny little grin that silently spelled out “heh, nailed it!”.
You stared at the trio and a million possibilities ran through your head. You considered battering them, kicking them over into the street, ripping open the coat and watching them flail about as they fall over and run off in every direction, but then a brilliant idea crept into your brain and you saw money.
You immediately switch to the camera function on your phone and recorded as you played along with their little ruse. As stupid is it may seem, them getting away with a plate of spaghetti so you can make millions in viral YouTube ad revenue seemed like a pretty good deal. Yes, everything was going great up until they attempted to sit in a chair, resulting in their little illusion falling apart rather quickly as they toppled like a tower, landing comfortably on the red carpet of the establishment.
You were feeling pretty pissed, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to make some real scratch and these dumbasses couldn’t even keep their cute little plan together long enough for you to record anything worthwhile.
“you fluffies are absolute idiots!” you chastised as you kicked the fedora off of the ringleader.
“wai… How hoomin kno am fwuffies?” he replied.
You didn’t have time to reply, you were too pissed off with missing your chance of being a millionaire, so you just decided to go get a mop set and when you got back you were going to drown them in the bucket.
When you got back you found the coat and hat were abandoned, you darted outside to see the three of them running down the sidewalk and you could just barely make out what they were saying as they waddled away. Past all the traffic you could vaguely hear the yellow one shout, “TOWD YEW DAT DIS-GUI-ZEE NEE FACIE MANE!”, before they turned the corner and disappeared into the alleyway.
-the end-