The Fluffy of War Part 1 (By Nundevwizer)

The cold times had come. The freezing wind blew through the narrow confines of the alley as the light pitter-patter of rain moistened the ground. A heaping pile of garbage sat untouched as the humans who lived nearby failed to pay for the garbage men for months. It had gotten so bad that the fluids leaking from the rotting garbage froze literally overnight.

At the bottom of the heap, a little opening revealed an empty space underneath the frozen garbage. Within, a single yellow fluffy sat, his breathing low as he looked through a book he found in the trash. Most fluffies are unable to read, but with enough determination, they can learn.

The fluffy, Scorpion, had found the book not long after making this cave made of garbage his shelter. He had been wandering the streets for about a week after his owner kicked him out. Scorpion never found out why his owner didn’t want him anymore, only that his removal from the warm confines of the house, and the two square meals a day guaranteed to him by his owner, was swift and completely unexpected.

When he came to the alley, he found the book on top of a box of other books inside the garbage pile. After an hour of trying to grip the book with his teeth, careful not to tear either the cover or the pages within, he managed to pull it out and brought it to his shelter under all the trash. It was perfect as it kept him out of sight, the smell discouraged anyone from looking for him, and no garbage men ever came to collect from the squalors den that was this alley.

The book had no pictures, only words. This would make learning to read much harder, but on the other hand, it only made scorpion that more determined to learn to read. He had set up a daily routine that maximized his ability to survive living on the streets. In the morning, he would search fresh piles for food. In the afternoon, he would search the alley for other fluffies to join him. His search had yet to bear fruit at this point. In the evening, he would entertain himself by trying to figure out how to read the book he had found before going to sleep for the night.

He has spent nearly a month trying to understand the words that were written within, but he’s had no luck so far. No matter how hard he looked at the words, he couldn’t understand them.

He sighed as he spent three hours into the night trying to decipher this text that sat before him.


Using his hoof, he lifts the side of the book and closes it for the night. He trots to the tattered towel that he slept on every night and laid down. He closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come easily. Not being able to understand the book had begun to bother him as of late. He was starting to spend more time each day trying to read it and all that did was increase his frustration.

Hours past and Scorpion remained awake.

“Dis nu wowking.” He sat up. “Maybe da bums neawby can help mi faww asweep.”

He crawled out of his garbage cave and walked into the abandoned apartment building nearby. Large metal plates were nailed onto the boarded-up windows of the building. Each plate said: “Condemned. Enter at your own risk.” He had no idea what these signs said, but that didn’t bother him as much as not being able to read his book. As he crawled through the opening in the broken door, he came across a bearded man with a younger man who sat beside him. They had set up a fire in the reminds of a metal can, it lit up the room, but Scorpion, who grew weary of humans rather quickly, always stayed in the shadows whenever he made his occasional visit.

“… and that’s how I figured out he could play the violin.”

The bearded man spoke with the air of a wise old grandfather, while the younger man sat with his head in his palm, waiting for the bearded man to stop speaking. They both wore raggy tattered clothes, they were among the homeless who lived here. The old man had been here far longer than Scorpion ever had, whilst the younger man was a more recent new addition to the homeless community living in this abandoned building.

“Then as we made our way to the nudist camp-“

The younger man stopped him midsentence.

“Alright, now your just talking bullshit, gramps!” He stood up. “I’m going to sleep.” He walked off as he adjusted his jacket.

The old man sighed. “Kids these days.”

Scorpion decided there was no point staying so he turns to leave, but he knocks over a glass bottle before he could step out the door. The old man swiftly turned toward the sound of the bottle falling over.

“Who’s there?!” He called.

One of the other homeless guys called out from another can fire.

“Probably just your ‘Nam buddies, old-timer!” They chuckled to each other and returned to warming themselves by their fire. The old man gets up from his chair and went to investigate the source of the noise. Scorpion jumped for the hole in the door… and gets stuck. “Oh nu…” his back legs were caught in the door and the old man was approaching.

“Pwease doah, wet mi gu!”

The old man could hear the soft noise of something shaking the door, but he can’t see anything, so he pulls out a lighter from his jacket and flicks it. Nothing happens.

Scorpion hears the lighter flick, and he stops struggling, hoping the man would just go away if he doesn’t hear anything. The old man flicks the lighter two more times and it finally produces a flame. The orange light exposes what the darkness hid, the hind end of a yellow fluffy in the doorway. “Well well, what do we have here?” He places his hand on Scorpions back as he tries again to free himself.

“NU! PWEASE DOON HEWT MI! WIWW WEAVE NAO!” He keeps struggling, but to no avail, he was truly stuck.

The old man kneels and tries to calm the frightened fluffy. “It’s ok, little buddy. I’m not going to hurt ya.” But Scorpion was not convinced.

“IWW DO ANYTING!! JUS PWEASE DUN HEWT MI!! SCREEEE!!” The old man gently pulls from the back to get Scorpion out of the hole.

“Almost there, little fella. Just gotta… there!” He rotates Scorpion to the right and he comes right out of the hole. Scorpion then felt himself get lifted off the ground and comes face to face with his rescuer.

“Well, aren’t you a cute fuzzball.” Scorpion feared what was going to happen next. He had seen other ferals like himself approach random passersby asking for food, shelter, and love, sometimes even for toys and other things. Most folks just ignored them, which was preferable to how some people reacted violently, usually kicking the offending fluffy like a football or simply stomping on them. Scorpion learned to stay away as most humans would either ignore him or hurt him… or worse, kill him as he had seen on occasion.

“he…. Hewwo, siw. Is dere something I can du foa yu?”

The old man smiled and carried the fluffy in his arms over to the fire. “You must be cold, fuzzball. Here.”

He sits down by the fire and holds the fluffy on his lap as the heat of the fire swept over them. It was the first time since he was kicked out of his home that scorpion had felt warmth like this. It was cozy. Although the little garbage patch that he had been living in was insulated enough to keep heat, it wasn’t much, and he had struggled to sleep at times because of it. The warmth was so comforting, it reminded him of home, his old home. He slowly starts drifting off to sleep, until the old man broke the silence.

“Do you have a name, little fluffy?”

Scorpion quickly wakes up and turns to look at him. “Mai name am Scorpion.” The old man smiled again.

“Well then, Scorpion. Mind telling me where you came from? I’m sure your owner is worried sick about you.”

Scorpion looked down at the old man’s lap. “I dun haf an ownew anymoa.”

The old man’s smile vanishes. “Why do you say that?” He asked.

“I wa kick ou of old housie. I dun nu why. I nebba di anyting wong.”

Scorpion looked up at the old man, only to see a sad look on his face. He turns his head to face the people sitting at another fire across the room. They were chatting amongst themselves laughing at something. Turning back to face Scorpion, the old man asked. “How long have you been out on the streets, Scorpion?”

Scorpion spends the next several minutes telling his story to the old man, from when he was kicked out of his home and his first week on the street to him finding the garbage pile nearby that he has spent over a month living in and avoiding contact with most people.

He then goes over his daily routine and then mentions a book he had found.

“A book you say, huh?” The old man cupped his chin with two fingers as he thought for a moment. “Can you bring me the book?”

Scorpion nodded and jumped down from the old man’s lap before running for the door that he came in. The old man opened the door for him, and Scorpion ran over to his garbage pile to retrieve his book. Crawling into his pile, he finds the book in its usual spot. He grabs the book with his teeth, but gently so he doesn’t leave marks, and then tries to get the book onto his back so it would be easier to carry it to the old man.

It takes the better part of the next 15 minutes, but he manages to get the book balanced on his back and carries it back to the abandoned apartment building where he left the old man. He stops in front of the door and knocks on it with his hoof. A second later, the door swings open and the old man invites him back inside.

“Ah! You’re back, fuzzball!” Scorpion just waddles inside, trying to keep the book balanced as the old man closed the door behind him. A few moments later, they are both by the fire.

“Dis is mai book, siw. I hab been twying tu wead it, buh it nu use. I nu undastan wha da wowds mean.”

“Well let’s take a look at it.” The old man picks up the book from Scorpions back and spends only a second reading the cover.

“Wait… is this?” He recognized the title immediately, The Art of War by Sun Tzu. He hadn’t seen this book since his last deployment. The old man was a Vietnam veteran, having only seen action during the last couple years of the war before the US pulled out, but in that short time, he saw enough to last a lifetime. He stared at the book in a daze, his eyes beaming at the black letters on the top that made the title.

Scorpion sat there watching the old man’s reaction, confused as to why he was now just staring at the book. He sat and waited for a minute before saying anything.

“Siw? Awe yu otay?” The old man didn’t respond. He just had a blank stare on his face as repressed memories came flooding to the forefront of his mind, taking him back almost 50 years. Scorpion was starting to get worried.

“Siw? Siw?!” The old man finally snapped himself out of it.

“Awe yu awight?” The old man looked down at Scorpion. He smiled as he reached down and scratched Scorpion behind the ears.

“I’m ok little buddy. This book brought up old memories is all. So you’ve been trying to read this for the past month?”

Scorpion nodded. The old man turned a page and recognized some of the passages within. He looked at Scorpion and shrugged. “Come on my lap, pal. I’ll teach ya how to read this.” Scorpion’s face lit up as he stepped forward and the old man pulled him onto his lap.

“Now from the beginning… It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on no account be neglected…”


Scorpion’s vocabulary and attitude are clearly abnormal, genius level, even.


Is this fluffy game of thrones?

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Wen 'ou pway da Game ob Chaiwsies, 'ou eidew win ow go foweba sweepies.

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I hope so, Ive been looking for a story like that for a long time