It was the week my wife went on a tour with her concert band and one evening, just after cleaning up supper and feeding the dog, I took the garbage out before settling in.
As I approached the bin, I saw, and heard, and smelled, a few fluffies run down the walk way between mine and the neighbor’s house, babbling something about “munsta” as they fled. I presume they had been sniffing around the trash and I startled them. Whatever. They’re annoyingly everywhere now. I never really thought much about fluffies beyond hearing them outside or muting the constant TV commercials. In all my interactions with them they just run away. Sure they crap on my porch or lawn now and again, which is annoying, but easy enough to clean with a hose. Mostly the dog barking at them keeps them away from our house.
“huuu huuu…”
I dumped the bag in the bin and followed the sound. One of the creatures was hiding behind the recycling containers, shivering.
“nu huwt, nu huwt, nu huwt…”, it was green colored with a blue mane and tail and currently wedged between the bins trying to shove itself further back, eyes rolling in terror. It kept repeating “nu huwt” over and over again, faster and louder as I got closer. I noticed its front right leg was tucked up like it was injured.
“What ar-”. I was cut off by the fluffy letting out a “SCRREEEEE!!!” of fear and the sounds of gas and turds being expelled.
After a few moments, it settled. “I’m not going to hurt you.” A few moments passed.
“W…wewwy? Nu huwt fwuffy, pwease. Fwuffy am gud fwuffy, pwease…nu huwt.”
I’m not really sure why, but this pathetic creature intrigued me in an odd way.
“Do you want me to take you inside? Do you want food and for me to look at your leg?”
“Huu huu, mista am nu daddeh?”
“Ehh, no, but let’s go.”
I think it wanted to be picked up. It sort of rolled back on its croup and stuck its good front leg out like kid wanting to be lifted up, but it was filthy and smelled like shit. I pointed to my back door. As it got to the porch, I told it to stay. I knew it would be terrified and probably shit everywhere if my dog startled it. I was also sure she (the pup) would treat this thing as prey and rip into it.
“NUUUU! NU WEAVE FWFUFFY!”
I shrugged, told it to stay again, and went in to secure my dog in the living room. On my way back to the porch, I started a bucket of warm soapy water filling. I was curious how smart these things were.
“You are gross and smell really bad. If I bring you in, you’re going to have to get cleaned. That means getting a bath.”
“NUUU! WAWA BAD FO-”
“Quiet! You want in or not? I can just leave you out here. It looks like your friends left you so you’d be alone.”
I could visibly see it thinking, which was kind of funny and maybe a bit cute. Finally it let out a sigh, “Otay daddeh-”
“I’m not your daddeh.”
It looked a bit hurt, but continued. “Otay mista, fwuffy am gud. Fwuffy come in.”
I opened the door for it to enter, limping all the way. Luckily, the kitchen was tile and designed for kitchen cleaning no less, so while messes would be gross, it would be nothing a steam mop couldn’t fix. In the light I could see exactly how filthy this thing was. Shit was caked around its hind end and the rest of its fur was muddy. It was kind of amazing how dirty it was. Even stray dogs and cats clean themselves better. A closer look I could see there was no open wounds on the bum leg so it was probably either broken or sprained. The hooves of these creatures were not like horse hooves. They sort of looked like them, bu they appeared to be more like…leather? This one’s were as caked in filth as its fur was and possibly damaged just from walking over rough surfaces.
I put the bucket down on the floor and the fluffy start to shiver in fear.
“Do you have a name? Are you a girl or boy?”
“F…fwuffy am Fwower-Stickie. Am fiwwy.”
“Flower-Sticky? What does that mean?” The small talk was getting her to be more relaxed.
“Am cowow wike stickie undah fwower.”
“Oh, like the stem.” I pointed to a flower stem in the vase on the window sill.
“Yus, am Fwower-Stickie.”
“Ah. Good to know.”
She snorted loudly. All the crying had made her drool snot all over her muzzle.
“OK, I’m going to put you in this bucket of water-”
“NUUUUUUUU! HUUUU HUU!” She turned and limped toward the door. Piss leaking after her. Goddamn these things are obnoxious I was already getting tired of it.
“I’m going to wash you. The bucket is not deep enough for you to drown and I will hold you the whole time.”
She turned to look at me, then at the bucket. There was the massive amount of “processing” again when of course she wasn’t “hu hu hu”ing like an idiot.
“Do you understand? I won’t hurt you and the water won’t hurt you either.”
She just looked on in terror, finally muttering, “Otay…”
I moved slowly over to her and picked her up, making sure to keep the ass end pointed away from me. I didn’t know much about fluffies, but even I’ve heard how much shit and piss these creatures make and how they spew it out constantly.
She was shivering in fear. Holding her was very strange. These things are bio-toys, engineered creations that are not actually animals and weirdly, they in fact didn’t feel real. I remember thinking that when I pick up my dog, she feels real. When I’ve touched and held other animals, they felt real. This thing, for all of it appearing and moving as an animal would, didn’t. Like the uncanny valley but for touch. It was very strange and a little off-putting.
I started to lower the fluffy into the wash bucket and she started panicking. “Shhh, it’s OK, be still, shhhh…” I tried to calm her best I could, though it didn’t work. She started struggling and a loud, comical “BLORT!” followed by both a long farting noice and an eye watering smell happened as she blasted a wet load of shit into the bucket, splashing water, soap, and crap on the floor.
She started struggling and crying again, shouting about “scawdy poopies!” and “wet fwuffy go!”.
So, I dropped her. With a thud she landed on the floor and instantly let out a “SCREEEEE!”
I kicked her halfheartedly into the wall. This made her SCREE more. This creature, this…thing, was on my last nerves and I’d been interacting with it less than half an hour. I found myself getting angry, wanting to harm it. I would never, ever have this thought with a person or an animal, but this wasn’t an animal, it was an abomination.
She was writing on the floor in pain. I had heard they were quite delicate, but was surprised to see that her rear legs were apparently not working from what wasn’t I really didn’t think was that much physical abuse. Her breathing was labored, having had the wind knocked out of her from the kick to the midsection. After a few moments, she started back with the annoying “hu hu hu” crying she had been doing near constantly. It dawned on me her crying probably was designed to sound like cartoon-esq crying by the people who engineered it. Probably thought it was cute or more kid friendly.
“Nu huwt fwuffy! Fwuffy am awive! Fwuffy am not a toy!”, it pleaded.
She awkwardly rose and limped to the back door. The fall must have done more damage than I thought. Her back legs hardly worked as she dragged them behind her, hooves trying to get purchase but really splaying this way and that.
All the while the fluffy babbled, “Pwease weggies! Pwease wowk! Make fwuffy go ‘way fwom munsta!” and the like. It was annoying and disgusting in equal measure.
I didn’t really know what I wanted to accomplish here. Hell, I didn’t even know what my plan was when I offered to take this thing inside. I walked over and did something that surprised me. I stepped on her back left leg and pressed down with all my weight. She instantly started SCREE-ing and I could feel the hip joint pop loose under my boot. The thigh bone broke with a quiet, but audible cracking noise.
“BLORT!” Another blast of shit, mixed with piss erupted from the fluffy. I kept standing on her leg for a few more moments before lifting off. The SCREE-ing continued peppered with harsh gasps for breath. I went to the cleaning closet to get stuff to start cleaning up this mess.
Returning to the kitchen, she was SCREE-ing less. As I filled the steam mop’s tank with water, the fluffy continued crying, mostly just that annoying “hu hu hu”ing and babbling about getting away and that she’s not a toy. I turned the mop steam control to full blast and shoved the head directly on her face.
She let out the longest, most primal SCREE yet, followed by gurgling, followed by some other rough noises as she struggled for breath. Her face was very wet, but I could already tell the skin on her muzzle was going to be scalded badly. Her body was wracked as she struggled for breath through what had to be excruciating pain. Her bowels let loose some admittedly funny farts, but she was apparently, finally empty of shit.
I started cleaning up the mess on the floor while the fluffy laid to the side, wheezing in pain. After a few minutes she started making peeps and cheeps like a baby bird. Interesting. I wondered what that was all about.
After cleaning up, I checked on her. Sure enough, the pink skin on her muzzle was pealing away from the steam burns. As her eyes focused on me, she let out louder and more frequent chirps and peeps. Drool was coming down her chin and she appeared to be trying to stuff her good hoof in her mouth. Maybe I “broke” it? I had no clue. But, I did know that this was the point where I should probably do something about this thing.
I put the steam mop back in the closet and found a long, thick zip tie. I looped it around her head while she cheeped and peeped and drooled. I paused a moment. What was I doing? Why am I doing this? I tried to have a moment of reflection about the fact I had just caused this…thing…insufferable pain and was now going to cinch a zip tie around its neck and watch it strangle to death. The thing was, I didn’t feel any sort of guilt. I tried picturing doing this to my dog, but my gut and brain instantly revolted. It had to be because of how unnatural this bio-toy was. It had to be! Not being religious in the slightest, I didn’t feel like this was some affront to God or anything, but I did feel like this thing was a ridiculous creation, a fake and blatant attempt to create a pseudo-life form and sell it with maximum consumer manipulation. They’re made so annoying and breakable! They’re disgusting! No kid would seriously want one of these! The commercials made them seem easy and simple to care for but how many children, or parents for that matter, would have the patience to deal with this, this disgusting thing! This was blatant corporate greed and hubris made flesh!
I was broken out of my inner thoughts by the sound of the fluffy thrashing and choking. I had, without realizing it, pulled the zip tie and it was being strangled.
Backing away, I just sat and watched. It lurched helplessly as its eyes started to bulge and its tongue started to swell and loll out of its mouth, peeping and cheeping the whole time interspersed with attempts to make words, though I couldn’t make any of them out.. After a few minutes, the movements slowed and the fluffy was no more. Its one good hoof uselessly trying to manipulate the zip tie, which was never going to happen. Its eyes fixed on me until its last conscious moment, a moment filled with what I presume was shear and utter terror.
I felt…pleased? Not in any sort of weird sado-sexual way, but that one of these gross little creatures was dead and I had made it suffer. I wondered if this is how some serial killers felt? I picked up the fluffy and put it in a trash bag.
As I took it to the bin, as if on cue, the fluffy’s body lurched involuntarily in the bag and expelled one last “BLORP-PFFFTTTTTTTT!”. I laughed. This had been strangely satisfying. I wondered if I should do it again sometime. Who knows?
After all, it what I just did was 100% legal since fluffies were not considered living, protected creatures.
