The man returned the next morning, still rubbing the sleeping out of his eyes as he wrenched open the shed door.
He had prepared his usual routine of offering food, only for the overwhelming stench of turds to beat it’s way into his nostrils as the door swung open.
“Fuck me, it stinks in here.” He muttered, causing a few fluffies to murmur about ‘bad words’.
“Um, woom smeww wike poopies…” One of the herd whimpered. “Can hab cwean woom… pwease?”
The man thought it over.
“Sure… for a trade.”
He didn’t even give them time to scream before he continued.
“If you want the room clean, you’re going to have to help. You’re the one making all the mess in here. So you have to help clean it up.” He said. The herd looked around, noticing the numerous piles of shit dotted around the small room, but seemed confused.
“Uhm… how hewp…?” One asked nervously.
“How the fuck do you think?” The man said. “Eat it.”
“WHA?! NU!”
“NU WAN NUM POOPIES!”
“HU-HU-HU! NU AM POOPY FWUFFEH!”
The herd continued to cry and babble, but the man merely watched, stoic and unconcerned.
“Well if you don’t like the trade, you don’t get a clean room.” He said, folding his arms and glaring down at them.
And, one by one, the fluffies accepted their fate. They turned away and, with tears in their eyes and 'hu-hu-hu’s in their voices, the herd began to nibble, gnaw and chew on the various clumps of shit that had formed over several days in the shed.
In reality, the trade was the most unfair the man had offered them yet. He had no intention of doing anything to help them at all. It was completely one-sided. If they ate all their own shit, then the room would be made ‘clean’, as he assured them… but none of the fluffies seemed able of connecting the dots to realise that they were the ones actually cleaning the room. All they knew was they were eating shit, and (totally unrelated), the less shit there was in the shed, the cleaner it became.
As the herd began milling around, miserably nibbling at rock-hard piles of turds from several days ago, the man spotted the mare from the previous day, with her bestest baby still in it’s jar. The baby had been fat at first, and it was still chunky, but it had definitely grown thinner over time. Despite that, however, the man found himself looking at the mare pressing one of her teats against the jar lid, pushing the nipple through the air-hole he had drilled, which was just close enough for the fat neon-coloured turd to slurp up some milk.
It was still going hungry, but it wasn’t quite dead yet.
The man watched, silently observing as the fluffies waddled back and forth around the shed, miserably chewing their way through their own turds, while babbling and crying the entire time about how ‘icky’ it was.
But at long last, the shed was starting to at least look somewhat clean again.
Things were going quite well, until something happened.
One of the fluffies paused, mid-chew, and began trembling.
“Urf.” It grumbled, spitting out it’s mouthful of half-chewed turds. “Tummy nu feww gud… huh… ha… HURK!”
The fluffy clenched itself up, shaking violently, and suddenly vomited, coughing up the entire contents of it’s stomach back onto the shed floor. Vomit (and several moist turd chunks) erupted out of the fluffy’s body and poured across the shed’s floor, spreading and stinking.
“NU!” One of the herd wailed, watching it happen. “Nu, dummeh! Nu make nu mowe messies! Pwease nu!”
Finally the fluffy stopped vomiting. It had only been a few seconds, but the poor creature had suffered an eternity during it all. The turds tasted bad enough going down, they tasted even worse coming back up. And that wasn’t all… now they needed to be cleaned up again!
“I hope you’re not planning on leaving that there.” The man said, glaring at the offending fluffy.
“Huhu… pwease nu… tummeh huwties… nu can num nu mowe poopies… huhuhu…”
“That was the deal. If you want this place to be clean, you’re going to have to put in the work.”
“Buh… buh nu can nu mowe!” The fluffy pleaded. “Pwease nu mowe! Nu can nu mowe! Pwease nu!”
“Nope. We made a deal. Get back to eating.”
The fluffy sobbed, but with trembling legs, it pulled itself over to the puddle of vomit and shit lumps and reluctantly wrapped it’s tongue around one of the turds, pulling the soggy clump of shit into it’s mouth.
It slowly chewed once, twice, a third time, and then swallowed… and almost immediately vomited again, spluttering as vomit spurted out of the fluffy’s mouth and nose, coming out as a murky brown color from the half-eaten turd lump.
“Huh… huh… huh… pwease… pwease nu mowe… nu can… nu can nu mowe…” The fluffy whimpered and wheezed, gasping for breath.
The man ignored it and turned to look at the others in the shed, who were already looking at him.
“Would you look at that?” He asked. “You did all that work to make this place nice and clean… and that one fluffy ruined it all for you. Now this place smells all over again, and you’ve got another mess to clean up. And it’s not just shit this time, now it’s vomit too!”
The herd were torn between fury and misery.
“NU! NU FAIW!”
“HUHUHU! NU WAN NU MOWE!”
“DUMMEH FWUFFEH! MAKIN’ MOWE MESSIES! HATE YOO!”
All while the offending fluffy could only sob to himself, a combination of his aching, burning guts and the misery in his heart from the herd turning on him, compounded by the horrible smell of shit-vomit filling his face as he wheezed and cried.
The man turned and closed the door, plunging the shed into darkness once more.