Don Davis was tired. He’d been driving for nineteen hours straight and had to stop when he started seeing a fifth lane on a highway he was POSITIVE didn’t have more than four. He was right, by the way.
Two lanes is NOT more than four.
After parking in the daunting subterranean garage and taking the elevator nine floors up, he stepped into the lobby of the only hotel in Cuyahoga Heights that still had rooms to rent. Their sign clearly said “vacancy” in bright letters. Or wait…
“Vancacy”
Eh, close enough. Neon signs are expensive, must be waiting on a replacement. Or so he thought. Stepping into the lobby two things hit him: Firstly, there were several dozen fluffies in various uniforms milling about between human guests and THEIR fluffies. Secondly, he didn’t smell any shit. Odd, for a building so full of fluffies.
Then he noticed the bags. Every guest fluffy had a shitbag hanging behind them, and they were built into little shorts with the hotel logo. That explained the guests, but what about all these novelty “workers” he was seeing? It was then that he saw the plugs. All the workers had plastic asshole stoppers with the winking face of a fluffy he assumed was the hotel mascot. It was positioned so his open eye was directly in the center, simulating an anus. Don felt this sort of missed the point.
When he walked up to the desk, it was chaos. Fluffies still. Where were the humans? He saw guests, but no workers. Nobody he could just level with. His head was throbbing and the bright lights and loud music wasn’t helping anything. It’s 10 PM, don’t they know it’s nighttime?
“Hewwo! Wan sweepy pwace?”
He looked down at a bright eyed blue pegasus in a polo shirt standing next to a pale grey fluffy who was staring intently at some kind of bullshit fluffy keyboard. Don just nodded. “For one night. I’m so tired from driving.”
“Das gwate! Fwuffy gunna find bestest woom fow nice mistah! Hab aww da uh-men-uh-tees dat mistah ebba wan!”
“Sure. Just the basic room. How much?”
“Weww dat depend, du nice mistah wan sign up fow wewawd pwogwam? It fwee, hewp nice mistah wif betta wates at fun fwuffy hotew?”
“No. I’m just passing through and you don’t have any other locations. How much is the room?”
“Wun secund, du nice mistah wan dewuxe sweet? Onwy…umm…twunny munnies mowe? Yeah! Onwy fif-uh uh uh twunny mow munnies! Bewwy gud! Mistah wan, wite?”
“NO. I want the basic room. How much is it?”
“Fwuffy aweddy say am onwy twunny mow mu-”
“No, the BASIC room. How much?”
“Wike fwuffy say, am onwy twunny mow fow Dewux-”
“TWENTY MORE THAN WHAT?”
You could hear a pin drop. Tears formed in the eyes of the optimistic and friendly pegasus as he realized the nice hoomin had worstest angries. “Du…huuuuu du hoomin wan…” The increasingly nervous pegasus started tapping his feet in distress. “Huuhuuuhuuuuuu nee hewp! Nu knu wat du! Cussymow yewwin at fwuffy! Am bad deskfwuff? Nu wan be bad! Am twy be gud!” At this, the fluffy sat down on its haunches and began weeping. The one at the computer came over to hug it. “Dewe dewe, it am otay. Ou gud desky fwuffy. Hoomin jus nee mannygew.”
Don sighed in relief. “Yes! Your manager! Let me speak to your manager.” Christ. Finally he’d get someone reasonable. He didn’t doubt that fluffies worked for cheap, but he figured they CAN’T be good at complex tasks so they’d need a-
“HEWWO, AM BESTEST SMAWTY MANAGEW! WAT SEEM TU BE DA PWOBWUM?”
A surly brown fluffy with…a moustache? Somehow? The manager was wearing a bright purple shirt with lime green pinstripes, a bunch of thin gold chains, and dark reddish brown pants on his bacl weggies. He looked like a strip club owner who made a really shitty wish with an extremely creative genie. Don had basically shut down at this point. All hope was lost.
“Look, I just want a room. Not a deluxe suite, not a rewards card, not a fun adventure. A room. To sleep in. Tonight. So I can leave in the morning and never come back as long as I live.” He was sweating out of sheer emotional exhaustion at this point. The manager, for his part, was unperturbed and seemed wholly unaware of Dons frazzled state. “Awe ou shuwe? Dey bewwy gud sweepy pwaces, hab weawwy big softy nesty an aww da bess toysies. Mistah wan stay howe week?”
“No. I want one room for one night. Basic. Nothing added.”
“Weww awwite den. How bout jus da King Sweet fow twee an wun nites? Dat wiww cum tu-”
“Sir, I…” Fuck. He’d just called a fluffy “sir.” This was a low point. This was rock bottom. “I just need a place to sleep tonight. That’s all. Nothing more. Please. I am so tired.”
“Wewwwwwwww…” The manager stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth to show he was deep in thought. “Fwuffy GUESS fwuffy can du…tuu nites in Joonya Sweet? Onwy hunnit munnies fow howe tiem! Yay!” He started clapping, and the other desk fluffies began clapping too. The pegasus even stopped crying.
Don was done. He was spent. He had nothing left in his tank and he needed to park. Fuck it. “Fine. Here’s a hundred. Give me a fucking room.”
While all the fluffies bristled visibly at the word “fucking” they maintained professional composure and did their jobs. “Wite away! KEE FWUFFY! GU FINE KEE FOW HOOMIN! JOONYA SWEET!”
From off to the side a whine came. “Huuuu bu kee fwuffy posed tu gu homesies suu many fowebbas agu! Night fwuff nebba came! Suuuu tiwed!” The manager smiled at Don. “Wun momen, haftu be da bawss.” He waddled off to the side and down out of view, where the whine had come from. A soft slapping sound could be heard, accompanied by whimpered pleas for mercy. “Stahp! Tawkin! Backsies! Tu! Fwuffy!” The slapping sound stopped and the pleas faded into a soft huuuuing sound. “Ou am onwy dummeh fwuffy, nu am bigges bawss fwuffy! Dat meen ou haftu gu wowk! Nao gu DU!” A louder slap was heard. “Screee! Nu kickies gud fwaaaaffy! Gu gib huwties tu meanie night fwuffy! He nu hewe!” The manager let out a derisive snort. “Humph! Dummeh! How can gib huwties tu fwuffy dat NU! EBEN! HEWE!” He punctuated the last few words with more kicks.
“Nao gu get key fow nice hoomin ow get fowebba sweepies!”
“Nuuuuu! Nu wan fowebba sweepies! Nu wan gu way an nebba cum backsies! Fwuffy hab fwens! Hab fambwy!”
“Nu cawe! Gu du jobbie ow get wowstest huwties an fowebba sweepies fwum BIG BAWSS FWUFFY!”
After this, the manager walked back to his office muttering a bunch of aggro bullshit about being the boss and how dummies shouldn’t tell the boss what to do and how his no no stick was the biggest and his kicks were the most powerful ever seen. Moments later, a visibly shaken and tear soaked green fluffy waddles out with a key in his mouth. He drops it on the counter by Don. Snot running down his nose, he speaks through tears with a wavering voice. “H…hewe kees fow nice hoomin… Pwease en-en-en-enjoy ou stay in da wowds onwyest fwuffy hotew, whewe dweems am weaw an ebbywun hab bestest tiem…”
Don took the keys and quietly trudged to the elevator. He rode it up fifteen floors, fluffies getting on and off at each floor (and annoyingly holding the door for flocks of slow moving fluffies, many of whom were not even getting on the elevator to begin with) and finally reached his destination.
Entering the room, he found it shockingly normal. It honestly looked like any other hotel room, albeit one with fluffy themed art on the walls and neon colored bedding. “Figures the housekeepers are at least human.” He collapsed on the bed and passed out, still wearing his shoes.
He was awoken by a buzzing from the room door. Sunlight. Must be morning. “Housekeeping!” Huh. Prompt. Nice.
He went to the door and opened it, only to be greeted by eight fluffies who all shoved past him into the room. “Huwwy! Hafta fwip fowty mowe wooms afta dis wun! Nu tiem fow be swow! Gu gu gu!” For a brief moment Don considered watching. After all, fluffies making a bed as tight and exact as he’d seen? That had to be worth watching, right?
“Fwuffy haftu make peepees!”
“Das otay, deez owd sheets. Du whewe ebba wan.”
Then the moment passed, and Don just wanted to never return to The Former Ohio.
