takes place after: The fluffyhunters finale: ” Wabash valley massacre, part two” (by whackadoo1997)
**AUTHOR’S NOTE: sorry, but no illustrations this time around. I had to return my tablet I was using to my irl buddy who owns it. I may add them in at a later date IF i get my hands on one. who knows. anyhow, here’s the epilouge!!! **
The fluffyhunters: epilogue.
“One year ago today, this laboratory was besieged by one of the biggest cases of corporate sabotage and espionage in American history, the Wabash valley research and development center, owned by tiger cybertronics, was subject to a coordinated assault by a rogue branch within the mattel bioelectronics division. The attack was coordinated and planned by the leader of the bioelectronics division, Dr. Francis Kent. When interviewed, many former colleagues of Dr Kent who worked here at the Wabash valley laboratories described him as belligerent, shortsighted, and petty. Is former colleague Dr. Erik Vanskyock had this to say:”
“He was a close friend of mine for over 15 years, and on multiple projects for many clients we toiled together and grinded away… only for him to one day reach a breaking point, and sabotage one of our internal projects, which led to his self-imposed departure. I am going to miss him, and the good times we shared, it’s just a shame that his pettiness led to the deaths of so many innocent people.”
“The scars have not healed fully. Many different parts of the laboratory have been rebuilt, but bullet holes in the wall, scratches on the floor and most troubling of all, the complete destruction of the metal fabrication workshop have yet to be fully repaired. Outsourcing is currently being done to manufacture parts for fluffyhunter project, and contractors from local development groups are hoping to have the facility fully functional within the next 2 months. This is Arnold Spankenheimer, reporting for WFGJ 16 news.”
The assembled staff in the company rumpus room were all watching the news report with baited breath. After it was done and the presenter went to the sports section, the TV was turned off by the doctor himself.
“Friends, one year ago we faced our greatest hurdle yet, it was not rna splicing, it was not removing the speech impediment folds of brains, and it wasn’t even our quest to secure better digital pipettes.” The last remark gained a chuckle from the crowd. “Instead, our greatest hurdle was overcoming the jealousy and rage of a scorned immature man. The absolute destructive power of envy. And how it led to the downfall of who was once considered a treasured colleague among us all. To that I raise toast to our survival. But also to those among us who gave the ultimate sacrifice.” The crowd acknowledged the fluffy hunters that were among them, the eldest, f-16 stood beside the doctor. He petted him on the back of the head as he looked up at him with misery in his eyes. “Those fluffy hunters and their brothers who gave their lives for our safety, and the safety of their brothers. HEAR HEAR!”
“HEAR HEAR!” The assembled crowd Bellowed. Family and friends with the deceased were among the researchers and fluffy hunters. They all tipped back their shots of cognac or fruit punch that had been poured out, and then the party began. Instead of a day of mourning it was a day of celebration of the lives of those who had fallen. A day to share stories and give libations. Somebody turned on the boombox and began playing party music. Somebody put an Italian disco CD on, and they all had a gay old time.
The fluffyhunters shared stories with their handlers about the good times they had with their brothers. And in the open center of the room, one of the secretaries was dancing her middle-aged hips off, holding hands with one of the fluffyhunters who was kicking his feet to the beat. Even the little stallion dumpling was on the floor, scooting his chubby bum along to the rhythm. Dr. Vanskyock held on to a flask filled to the brim with Johnny Walker, and took an oblivion seeking chug. As he walked through, he listened in on conversations as he milled about
“And then he would take them home!”
“But she always told us about you, she said you were her work husband!”
“Your father was my handler. He was the one who brought us biscuits.”
“Your mom always was telling us about how you were doing in school, I miss it.”
“And then she tells him, “Miss Lopez. would you like to buy some tomatoes?”
He made his way over to the bay window that encompassed the outer wall of the rumpus room. F-16 Sat there, staring out at the sprawling plains and fields. The doctor sat beside him, and put one arm around him. “Penny for your thoughts?” F-16 shifted, and looked up at the doctor.
“…I am tired.” “What makes you say that?” “I miss my brothers.” The mood immediately died down between the two of them. “My brothers. I miss them so much that I am tired all the time.” The doctor, you dropped his guard and immediately went into work mode again mentally. “How long have you felt this way my boy?” “a very long time. My new squad mates and packmates are good. But they’re not my brothers, who I was raised with.” He looked out the window. “Everyone is celebrating. Everyone is remembering the good times. I don’t think I can remember the good times without being tired.” The doctor chose his words carefully, but was too drunk to be anything but honest. Put the cap on his flask and sat down next to f16, also looking out the window.
“Do you remember the day, when we went out to the farm, And you boys found dumpling.” “Yes” “You came running to me asking for help?” “…yes” “every time you’ve ever had a problem, you’ve come to me and you have gotten a solution to your problems. That’s my job, is to solve problems for you and make sure you can function…And I do have a solution for your problem but it’s not going to be one you’re going to like to hear.” F16 paused. “Okay” “You see, your brothers are probably in heaven right now, likely from all the good they’ve done for the world. They’ve gotten rid of a lot of bad fluffies for a lot of good people. And if they are in heaven, I assume they’re watching down on you at this very moment. I don’t think they would want you to mourn their loss, but rather be happy that you got to know them while you were alive. Those memories that you have with them are there forever, and they belong to you. No one else. So instead of being sad that you’ll never see them again, want to take a moment to relish the fact that you got to know them while they were alive and that they made your life so much more fulfilling by simply being there. Look at everybody out there on the dance floor. They are sharing stories, they’re laughing, and giving libations inadvertently to the deceased…”
F-16 looked up at him and smiled ever so gently. “I understand. Thank you doctor.” He got up, and wanted to the party, the doctor’s words gave him a little bit of confidence.
As the party continued throughout the afternoon and evening, songs were sung, stories were shared, and in one interesting turn of events a karaoke machine was pulled out. Proof of this lies in the Polaroid picture of Dr Vanskyock with his shirt off screaming into a microphone with the clone workshop manager, which now hangs in the break room of the laboratory.
As the festivities came to an end, everybody packed their things up, and drove each other home or stayed in the overnight barracks to sleep off their hangovers.
And life went on for them all…
oh yeah! Except for Dr Francis Kent. Now what became him you ask? Well…
8 MONTHS PREVIOUSLY:
At the city Park the “Great American fluffy rescue” society was hosting a funfair. Fluffies from all over the country had been brought in, from abused backgrounds to surrenders by owners who could no longer take care of them. Dr. Vanskyock Sat at one table, with a fluffy before him. It was blue, and had a very noticeably grumpy face, alongside a mane of greasy black hair that was always brushed back, and wore a little tie and collar. A little girl walked up and looked at him, examining the fluffy.
“What’s his name, mister?”
“This is Francis! He’s not a good fluffy…He’s not for beginners, he was raised around people his whole life and thinks he’s a person instead of a fluffy.” Francis glared at the child. “Now keep in mind little girl, if you want to adopt him you have to promise me that he’s going to a home with other fluffies, I don’t want him to be alone of course…” “Don’t worry mister! I’ve got a fluffy in my backpack right now!” She picked up her backpack, and showed it to the doctor. He smiled and Waved to the little creature. “That’s wonderful! She’s so cute!” Francis couldn’t see a damn thing. “Well, I’ll let you have this fluffy, so long as your mom and dad say it’s okay. Understood?” Her parents had been watching the entire thing, both agreed to the terms. At that moment, Francis was picked up and placed in the glass backed travel backpack. “Goodbye Francis! I hope you have fun at your new home!”
“FUK YEW EWIK!” The little girl immediately turned her backpack around and looked at Francis. “No potty words! Or I’ll put you in the sorry box!” “Twy me” The little girl put the fluffy in her backpack on and walked away with her parents. Stopping by the discipline booth to get a new sorry stick. Francis sat there, fuming with rage. He tucked himself into the corned of the backpack. Away from the other fluffy. she looked at him, side eyeing him as she smiled.
“Don’t wowwy new fwend! Cassidy is a good mummah!” she forcibly turned Francis around, and he was horrified. Her face was covered in makeup, The likes of which would have been considered a bit drastic and over the top even for RuPaul’s drag race.
“cassidy is a fashionista! Make peaches wook soooo pwetty! Make you wook pwetty too!!!” “WAT DA FUK?” peaches had patches of missing and burnt fur from improper curing iron use, a torn iris from god knows what, and earrings that were clearly stuck in infected holes. She drooled through a missing tooth.“dun wowwy, sometimes mummas gets ma-ska-wa in peaches eyes…but it make peaches so bootiful!” “GET ME OUTTA HEAW! HEWP! I’M A HOOMIN! HEWP HEWP ME FOW DA WUV UV GOD!!!” It was at that moment that Francis finally was at rock bottom, pounding his little hooves on the glass backpack as peaches went on and on about foundation, mascara, hair curlers and “best huggies” which sounded like the precursor to shaken baby syndrome…He was finally in hell. This was his life now. He was a fluffy pony and no one believed that he was a man once. He was in hell…and he was going to be sooooooo pwetty.