The Rainbow Daddy
Christmas is fast approaching, harvest has long passed and thanksgiving approaches too.
Now to a fluffy, another time approaches.
A terrible time.
The Cold Time.
Now when we talk about the end of the year, and with all those parties and holidays and just barely enjoying your family’s company.
Does that not fill you with a warm feeling of joy?
Fluffies lack any concept of time, so they’re completely oblivious to events of any kind unless we tell them.
Ask them what day it is and they’d tell you it’s Sketties Day. Hope springs eternal and they’re always optimistic for treats.
Day and night is the only thing they can discern. But that’s just because it’s obvious when you look at it.
But it’s interesting that they know what “Cold Time” is.
And it fills most of them with dread.
Most especially the ferals and abandoned domestics.
Cold Time is not a fun thing without a Daddeh. Because you can only have a good time in Cold Time with Daddeh.
They most especially fear it if they’ve survived and lived through a previous winter.
Without a Daddeh.
Did you know that Fluffies were marketed as Bio-toys? At this point, considering how long they’ve been around, it’s all too easy to forget.
It feels so long ago that they were treated as toys instead of vermin. But toy sales are very popular in winter.
And fluffies and fluffy accessories are still the No.1 bestsellers across the country.
I do wonder why.
Now the bigwigs at Hasbio, more accurately the PR department, wanted fluffies to appeal to everybody.
And I mean every one person in this world.
From the religious to non-religious, to the young to the old and everyone in between.
So to them, a fluffy that said and enjoyed “Christmas!!”…that was just too offensive.
What about the people who hate Christmas?! They’d say.
What about Hanukkah?..nope still too religious.
Thanksgiving? Why are you asking at this point?
Even Happy Holidays………yeah, a fluffy doesn’t know what that is either. And that’s the PC version too.
So the PR Pricks decided to make the developers working on the fluffy mind think of a catch all term that describes this time of year.
They helped (interfered) too of course.
It was an annoyance and an extra headache, considering the limited design they had to work with.
And the best they could come up with is “Cold Time”.
The most inoffensive thing they could think of to describe this time of year and all holidays
A slogan that is just even more bland than the most bland and coverall term you’d use to describe this time of year.
They paid a lot of money to develop fluffies y’know.
So sure, that explains how they know, but why do they dread it?
Again we’ll come back to the Fluffy Design.
Their fur is designed to be softer than a kittens is. Even adult fluffies are pretty soft to stroke, foals of course are even softer.
Unfortunately (for them) the fur is not designed to insulate or even to keep them warm.
Why would they need to worry about staying warm when they’re meant to be kept indoors where they’ll be warm anyway?
A fluffy will feel the chill of the cold quite quickly.
Hasbio recommends you keep fluffies in a warm and draft-free room for them to be comfortable. They even sell things to help keep your fluffy warm and the room you keep them in perfect for them to be comfortable.
Fluffies are sensitive to the cold and hate the cold.
And then the days just keep getting colder and colder, and it becomes less nice to go outside and then Daddeh makes you wear a dumb and itchy sweater and other thermal clothes that feel very tight.
And look either pretty cute or pretty dumb depending on your fluffy (and how much you spent on the outdoor clothes)
Just to go outside.
And “Cold Time” becomes obvious.
Fluffies just hate it. They’re not exactly aware it can kill them.
The fur is just meant to be soft so you want to hug them all day and watch them hug each other all day.
They’re toys designed to be kept indoors purely for interaction in the living room and bedroom and wherever else you keep a fluffy.
You wouldn’t keep one of those fucking demonic looking furbys outside and exposed to the elements.
They don’t exactly work well after you’ve kept them out in the rain.
Fluffies are like that too. They stop working in cold and wet conditions.
Fur gets fucked up too.
A lot of the time in cities, this is why you see more and more fluffy herds getting bigger and bigger.
All of them are trying to stay warm.
Fluffies love being warm and cosy. This is why you often see fluff piles too.
The more fluffies, the bigger the fluffpile.
And hopefully get rescued by a nice Daddeh too.
This is why they’ll hold up their Babbehs to make you want to take them in.
Only the prettiest foals are held, and they in turn reach out to you for huggies.
Remember, all fluffies have a side to them capable of emotional blackmail.
The mummeh could feel it, she knew it would be The Cold Time soon.
She didn’t like Cold Time.
She was a little babbeh during cold time and had a housies with her mummeh.
She never forgot how much her mummeh and her bruddas and sissies played outside.
She had been outside for some time since she became a big fluffy and could have babbehs.
It was beginning to get colder, and the box and newspaper didn’t feel as warm now.
Only the warmth from their farts kept them slightly warm.
Everything was cold.
Her babbehs didn’t know Cold Time.
But they were beginning to.
And nor did Special Friend.
But that wasn’t his problem anymore.
A garbage collector had seen him going through a tipped over garbage can for nummies.
There wasn’t too much in the can to eat. Another fluffy had gotten there earlier and taken away the bestest nummies.
So what was a working guy to do?
He picked up the fluffy and threw it into the garbage truck where it could find more nummies.
Unfortunately for the fluffy, it’s body got crushed up and compressed. Poopies fired out of him at high pressure.
The garbage collector laughed and took a light on his spliff and took a drag.
He loved this job
All in a days work to keep the city clean and one less shitrat.
The mare had cried when special friend hadn’t returned in so long.
No nummies for milkies for babbehs.
She felt so sad and cold. No Huggies for warmsies either.
The foals brayed for milkies and cried. Their mummeh couldn’t provide them with enough.
A sliver of milkies between 3 babbehs. She would have to take Babbehs and find nummies for milkies herself.
They were so small and hadn’t started talkies yet and could only do walkies so far like a crawl. Still so chirpeh. At least they had some fur.
Not that it helped them.
She positioned herself for the foals to be carried on her body. They were small enough to all fit on. Bestest had comfortably nestled by her mane and the base of her neck.
She began to walk and wander. The babbehs chirped on her back.
Would she find nummies?
Maybe a Daddeh?
A chill wind blew, it was so icy, the mare began to shiver and felt the cold through her bones.
The babbehs felt it too and they quivered from the chill.
It was so cold now.
She looked up into the sky and asked if a Daddeh could save her and babbehs from Cold Time.
The breeze carried something else.
A scent. A familiar one.
Fluffies?
Herd?
A Herd!!
The wind carried the scent of fluffies.
They were close by too if the scent was anything to go by.
The mare began to think about fluff piles and how warm she was when she was in one.
Warmsies. Keep away the cold time!!
Herd could save Mummeh and Babbehs from cold time!!
The more fluffies there were, the more nummies there would be!!! More fluffies meant a Daddeh would save them!!
(Fluffies genuinely believe this, and don’t get the concept of competition)
She began to follow the scent slowly, her brain barely registering the scent that her nose had picked up. There was a lot of stops and starts and a lot of shivers.
She was getting closer. She was sure of it.
The alleyway was brightly lit too.
She could smell burnies here. But the herd were here too.
Bright light and herd to keep away cold time and dark time!
She was saved.
She didn’t know why but she began to cry. At last she would be saved and her babbehs too. The light would keep away cold time.
The foals chirped as the mare began to move quickly, and as the mare got closer, she began to feel warmer as she got closer to the light.
She felt less cold as if the light was keeping away all of the coming cold time. It felt right to go to it.
She turned into the corner………no herd?!
Where are the herd?!
The source of light could be seen now. Lit drum cans with a strong burning fire in each.
She looked at it and drew closer, it felt warmer just being by them. So this would keep away cold time?
She could see a colourful splodge too. Really colourful like a fluffpile.
Splodge? No, it really was like a fluffpile!!! It smelt exactly like fluffies. But she couldn’t see any fluffies there. She got closer and could make out it was a very weird fluffpile.
Laying across the ground like a blanket…
It then rose up very quickly. Startled!
The mare let out a yelp frightened! One of the foals had fell off the mare from her jump scare.
The figure beneath the fluffpile looked at the mare. He had been sleeping next to the warm cans. He was glad it hadn’t rained, he hated the coming of winter too.
The rainbow blanket was in actuality a rainbow coat. Many patches of colour adorned the coat. It looked pretty thick.
And it smelt of fluffies too!
The mare began to realise what the strange figure was. Her eyes lit up with joy when she realised.
This was much, much better than a herd!!
“Daddeh!!! Daddeehh!!! Daddeh sav mummeh an babbehs wi wawmsies!!! Tank oo su much!!! Tank oo fo wawmsies an bwite pwace!!!”
The mare then sat on her hind, forgetting about the remaining babbehs on her back, who had tumbled off too.
They were pretty lucky that the ground was “cushioned” with cardboard. Without the cardboard they’d have hit the ground and suffered a fatal injury.
They merely suffered grevious wounds. If anything the cushion of the cardboard did them little favours.
The foals instead landed with a sharp shock and let out frightened and hurt chirps.
They were “lucky” to land on their sides or their limbs. Their brittle bones had fractured on impact and they would not die instantly.
But maybe that would’ve been better.
The mare ignored the chirps and joyfully clapped with delight upon sight of the Daddeh.
A Daddeh to save them all.
He merely raised his eyebrow, it wasn’t exactly amusing to see but he knew that seeing a fluffy, especially for himself, was not something you could turn your nose up to.
Plus he had a headache. Booze induced, he paid this price for not feeling the cold. You would never believe that he never liked touching alcohol before.
But still their absent-mindedness wasn’t exactly a source of amusement for him. What happened to taking care of your own?
“Du Daddeh hav nummies? Mummeh nee nummies to mak miwkies fo Babbehs? Pwee hewp mummeh daddeh”
Her gaze was solely fixed on him, she was waiting for an answer and was desperate for a yes that she had forgotten and ignored the pain her babbehs had suffered.
“What about your Babbehs? They look they have hurties. You’re a bad mummeh……you really are”
The mare’s gaze then began to avert and she turned around to see that her Babbehs had fell from her body.
Some had boo-boo juice coming out of them, all of them had made poopies.
And they were chirping and chirping loudly for their mummeh.
She began to cry upon sight of her fallen foals.
“M-m-mu-mummeh nu b-bad fw-f-fwaffee Daddeh!! Nee giv babbehs h-h-huggies.”
Bestest Babbeh was the most gravely injured.
Not that she realised from his peeping and chirps, but the man had noticed a dent in its spine. A deep dent that made his body crooked. The other two had crooked legs and dents against their ribs. His was the most serious for a foal and his body couldn’t move its legs and expelled its liquid shit from it as its muscles spasmed and relaxed and contracted again.
They wouldn’t make it past the night none of them.
He walked over to the fallen bestest Babbeh who chirped loudly upon the man picking him up.
This in turn panicked the mare.
“Pwee Daddeh!!! Pwee giv bestest Babbeh tu mummeh!!! Babbeh nee huggies fo-“
“Just stay silent!!! I’m going to make your baby better!!! Be still”
“O-o-Otay……Daddeh”, the mare put her head down like a child who had been scolded, she averted her gaze from the man but tried to peep up to look at what was going to happen to her bestest.
The man held the foal in his palm, its belly down and legs out flat. It’s spine was clearly broken and it’s body trembled from its pain. So not entirely paralysed, just in severe pain.
The foal chirped and chirped and chirped. It’s chirps were distressing the mare.
“I don’t want you to look at me!! Keep your eyes away fluffy!! I will make your baby better. I told you!!”
The mare trembled and did so.
The man raised another eyebrow
“So you’re not going to look after your other Babies? Give them huggies now you worthless bitch”
The mare yelped out in distress and cried more. She hurried to her other two babbehs and began to give them huggies.
Not that it would help
“Mummeh am bad Mummeh huuuuuu!!!”
The man merely shook his head. He instead began to concentrate on the foal, the previous bestest Babbeh, who’s panicked and distressed chirping continued.
The man had learned a trick with fluffies. And it worked on all of them.
He gently massaged the neck of the foal with a firmness. He began to rub at the neck in a circular motion. The chirping continued on until it stopped suddenly.
The mare heard no chirps from bestest.
“Is bestest Babbeh Otay Daddeh?!! Nu chirpeh fwom-“
“He’s fine. He’s sleeping.”
He placed the foal down against where he was sat. Only he knew what he had done to the foal to quieten it.
He began to have a look in a plastic bag next to his side and began to root through it looking for something.
“Is nummies Daddeh?!”
The mare was hoping it was.
Instead the man pulled out a sharp skewer and a tissue and began to wipe it clean.
The mare looked at it and it reminded her of a sorry stick.
“I want your other babies, fluffy.”
The mare looked aghast at the suggestion, the bodies writhed and chirped against hers and were beginning to slowly die down.
She really, really didn’t want to hand them over.
The words were on her lips, she just couldn’t say them until she did.
“Y-y-Yesz…….d-d-dad-deh……”
Her head looked down like she did before and she averted her eyes away from her new Daddeh. She was exactly like a child, who had something that she shouldn’t, taken from her.
She didn’t resist as he plucked each foal from close to her. There was no resistance.
The man then began to pierce the skewer through each of the remaining foals. They let out one final, distressed squeal instead of a chirp.
“NUUUUUUUU DADDDEEEHHHH!!!”
“Shut up you fucking idiot!!! Don’t you want any nummies to make milk for your bestest baby when he wakes up?”
“Huhuhuhuhuhu Pwee Daddeh Pwee nu hewt babbehs huuuuuuuuu”
The man placed the skewer down, next to bestest Babbeh who wasn’t distressed or disturbed by the movement.
“Huuuuuu Pwee Daddeh Pwee giv Babbehs bac tu mummeh……mummeh wiww be gud Mummeh….nu mo hewties huhuhuhuhuuuuu”
The man crouched next to the mare and smiled warmly at her.
He looked so much kinder now, the mares eyes squinted as the tears poured out of her. She could finally look at him. He didn’t look like a meanie Daddeh.
“Do you want Huggies sweetie?”
“Ye-y-Yesz……Daddeh huuuu”
The mare had lifted her arms out to be lifted up to be given Huggies.
And her Daddeh picked her up in arms and began to hug her.
“Huuuu Daddeh fwaffy hav su many heawt hewties”
The man began to cuddle her more and she began to settle down letting out a few more huuuus.
He began to massage a spot in her neck.
“Hehehe Daddeh fwaffy Wub tickies hehehe fwaffy Wub Dadd……hkkkk”
“Hkkkk”
“Uughhhkkkk”
The mare began to loosen up and become limp now. The man placed her down before her body expelled the foul shit that usually comes from them.
As he had done with bestest Babbeh, he had done so to the mare.
Did you know that fluffies all have a “button” in their necks that once pressed down firmly will switch them off permanently?
It didn’t require a lot of work on the foal due to how very brittle they are next to the already fragile fluffies.
This was Hasbio‘s way of ensuring that broken fluffies or fluffies that would be due to be upgraded could be turned off permanently causing no problems to the owners.
It’s surprising how many people don’t take advantage of this “killswitch” built into the fluffy design.
The man had a reason for wanting to kill the mare cleanly.
Fluffy flesh and fur is also notoriously delicate.
The man took off his colourful coat.
It was after all made from fluffy fur and flesh.
He began to inspect it and check for any fresh tears and parts that needed padding.
He had been on the streets for so long now, and there was never enough at the shelter to eat especially when competing with the other bums they gave crap food to.
But the streets were full of food. In the garbage cans, what you could steal, and what was on 4 legs and called you “Daddeh”.
He had found the part of his coat that needed to be padded out. He had forgotten how many fluffies he had killed to get this coat.
Such a nuisance and something that needed to be kept on top of at all times.
It always needed stitiching and more material added to it.
It barely protected from the cold and it wasn’t waterproof, no matter how much you padded it out with.
It stunk horribly. It genuinely stunk horribly, the worst thing even worse than fluffy faeces.
It kept the humans away.
But it drew in fluffies like the dumbass who had been drawn to the smell thinking that it was more fluffies to join up with.
It ensured more material for his coat.
And a constant fresh food supply.
Fluffies are easy to kill. And he had learned about the kill switch from when he had a daughter he bought a fluffy for.
Heh, that really turned out well he laughed.
He had been a butcher once providing fine cuts of real animal, and though he struggled against the big boys at Walmart, he was proud he could provide.
And then fluffy meat was introduced. And it was very cheap. Heavily processed too, who would want to go to a butcher? Especially at these prices!!
And then no one was hardly producing real animal meat, they’d moved onto fluffies and eating the fucking things because they just pump out more and more to the point that you had to eat them!
Foal shish kebab time, he ate this whenever there was fluffies around. And foals were the easiest catch. He was glad he had the mare to eat as well. Foals are junk food, a mere snack to keep you going, but the mare would be more substantial.
It was not lost on him that he once said he would never eat a shitrat, nor make anything of one. He was proud of his skills as a butcher and these things were an abomination, but here he is, his pride long gone.
He began to wonder what his daughter would think of him. He hadn’t spoke to her or seen her since he lost the house and custody of her.
The man had learned to eat what he could out here and not to waste anything.
The garbage cans barely had food these days.
Who’d have thought that after Thanksgiving, there wouldn’t be any food to eat at all?
Thanks to an anti-fluffy initiative that the local council had taken. It meant he had to rely on eating more fluffies.
And there was always a lot of them.
He skewered the dead bestest Babbeh onto the skewer to join its siblings. He placed it over the fire to cook whilst he did work carefully removing the fur from their now dead mummeh.
What good was a foal beyond eating it? It wouldn’t have made a difference adding it to the coat.
She had good colours, but that wasn’t important. It ultimately never is. Her flesh was undamaged and it was healthy enough to add to the coat. Extra padding.
He was hoping the smell from the cooking would draw in more fluffies.
He did need more fur to add to his coat before winter hit. And that would be a bad time this year.
