Whose Fluffy is it Anyway? by Grim

The picture fades in from black to show an enthusiastically applauding audience before the camera pans over to show the presenter at his desk on the side of the stage.

“Welcome to Whose Fluffy is it Anyway! The show where everything’s made up and the room is soundproofed.”

The four presenters in the middle of the stage were introduced left to right.

“Please welcome Bayne Wradey, Syan Riles, Molin Cochrie, and Gallagher.”

As they were introduced, Bayne pointed into the camera and laughed. Syan shoved his fist up a fluffy’s ass and pretended it was a hand puppet, spinning the fluffy from facing him to facing the camera as the fluffy screee’d all the while. Molin stared dead-eyed into the camera as he twisted a fluffy’s head off, and Gallagher slammed a large wooden hammer onto a very gravid soon-mummah, sending two streams of liquefied fluffy straight up while the rest of the guts flew into the cheering audience.

“Let’s start with Scenes from a Fluffy Hat. Before the show we asked the studio audience to write suggestions of scenes they’d like to see acted out with fluffies, and now we’re going to ask you four to come up with as many examples as you can, starting with:

The host grabs a knife and slices open a live fluffy, pulls a piece of paper out of it, reads it, smirks, and throws the first suggestion and the fluffy into a motion activated woodchipper. “Not that one”

He opens another fluffy and reads:
“Circus acts that didn’t make the cut!”

Molin is first out the gate, quickly grabbing a live fluffy and a knife before slicing a circle around the fluffy’s anus, pulling several feet of the fluffy’s intestines out, inflating them with some compressed air, and shaping the intestine into a balloon-animal style dog. This finished, he tosses the anus end of the intestine into the woodchipper, leaving the fluffy to be slowly dragged into the whirring blades by its intestines, only starting to move when the esophagus holds firm, the fluffy screeching in agony all the while. The contestants then look back to the host.

He opens another fluffy, “Next we have, last place at the talent show ”

Syan steps forward with a fluffy before ripping the skin of its back off and using pencils to mime playing its spine like a xylophone, eliciting various screams, screeches, wails, wan-dies from the fluffy over the course of ten seconds before he picked up the fluffy by the tail and swung it around above his head, seemingly intending to toss it into the wood chipper, but before he could let go, the fluffy’s skin separated along the tear on its back and the now skinned fluffy flew to the feet of the first audience members, in too much pain to do anything but moan out huu-huus.

“Questionable pickup lines!”

Bayne steps forward, grabs a fluffy and holds it belly up in his arms like a baby, “My fluffy just told me how sex works.” He rocks the fluffy back and forth once before spiking it hard into the floor where it partially splatters, but is still alive enough to screee until Bayne kicks what’s left into the middle of the audience, where someone jumps up to catch it before sitting back down.

“Presidential slogans that will not get you elected!”

Gallagher steps forward and holds out a fluffy who announces “Fwuffies am people too!” At which point Molin pushes a cart labeled “Book Depository” containing Syle holding a shotgun in from the right side of the screen. Gallagher puts the fluffy down before a predictable thing happens, leaving a birdshot blinded fluffy to run screaming right into a second, floor height wood chipper on the left edge of the screen.

With three long buzzes, the host ended the segment and announced the first commercial break.

An attractive shirtless man is speaking while mid-frame,

Hello, ladies, look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me, but if he stopped using ladies scented body wash and switched to Old Spice, he could smell like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on a boat with the man your man could smell like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s an oyster with two tickets to that thing you love. Look again, the tickets are now diamonds. Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a lady. I’m on a horse. (He’s sitting astride a fluffy, itself on a stool)

all the while a fluffy can be heard wailing, begging for ‘get-offies’, ‘nu cwush fwuffy’, and pleading ‘fwuffy sowwy fwuffy use chaiw’

“And we’re back with Whose Fluffy is it Anyway!”

There’s clearly been an attempt to clean the stage with a power washer, but the contestants are still covered in blood and miscellaneous fluffy bits. This clean-up effort was a bit wasted, as five chirpy foals had been placed on five t-ball tees and Gallagher ran up to each with a bat and hit them towards the audience as hard as he could, with the result that all five were splattered and sprayed everywhere.

“Next up we have a game called Fluffy Scenery. Here we have our contestants act out a scene using lots of props, but we’re cheapskates, so the only props we have are fluffies!”

Several large storage bins full of fluffies of every color have been placed strategically around the edges of the stage.

“Today’s scene is: At the amusement park. At the amusement park, take it away!”

Molin stepped forward first, “Golly, what a great day at the amusement park! It’s finally my turn to get on the big roller coaster, lets go!” He mimes running from the front of the line to the roller coaster car and sits down on a bin of fluffies in the middle of the stage, but it has a lid, so their screams at being crushed are well muffled.

Thinking fast, Bayne grabs several fluffies and fashions a lap restraint by shoving each fluffy’s head into the ass of the previous fluffy, making a screaming, if muffled, fluffy rope. Bayne and Syle lower it down to Molin’s lap, whereupon Molin proceeds to mimic the up-down-left-right motions of a roller coaster, with each movement, especially the violent downwards ones, further crushing the fluffies he sits on.

The others then raise the ‘lap restraint’ before Molin exclaims “That was great, I wanna go again” and jumping into the air before slamming down, butt first, onto the bin of fluffies.

“Check it out!” Syle calls out, pointing, “It’s one of those stalls where they have a soccer net and a goalie and you have to try to score goals on him. Not only that, but the goalie is Crew Darey!”

Crew is briefly surprised before getting up and standing in front of the four contestants. They then attempt to kick fluffy ‘soccer balls’ past the ‘goalie’ but mostly just pelt Crew with fluffies for a minute or so, with all the missed kicks landing in the audience. Dead and dying fluffies litter the stage, and Crew is drenched in blood, viscera, and fluff.

Gallagher points and says “Hey look, a ball pit!” All five people on the stage jump into the nearest still-full fluffy bin, producing a great spray of blood and every sound of fluffy agony barely heard above the sound of the fluffies breaking bones and squelching organs.

Crew wipes the grime away from his mouth, “We’ll be right back with our last segment after these messages!”

“Do you have too many fluffies cluttering your house? Did that herd in your backyard get out of control? Do you just have the one and want it send it to hell by putting it through hell?”

“Then get fluff-away!” A fluffy is shown standing on a white folding table with a man holding a spray can behind the table. “One quick spray and the fluffy problem is gone!” The man proceeds to spray the fluffy, and as he sprays it, it starts to melt into a puddle, the puddle instantly boiling. The fluffy survives and screams for a surprisingly long time before it and the puddle disappear, leaving the table spotless, with a cheezey glint coming off it along with an audiable ‘ting’ sound.

“Fluffies in your yard? Give 'em a spray with fluff-away!” A woman approaches a feral herd in a fluffpile and sprays them down until there is no trace that they were ever there. The fluffies die more slowly this time, clutching each other and begging the others to save them.

“It’s non-toxic and guaranteed to not harm pets, children, fabric, or other household objects. Check this out!” A young boy holds his fluffy protectively, but a teenager just sprays the kid and the fluffy down with fluff-away, and the fluffy melts through the boy’s arms, sobbing and begging the kid to save it.

Each of the following is said before a dramatization is shown:

“Fluffy won’t stay off the couch? Fluff-away!”

“Your wife pays more attention to it than you? Fluff-away!”

“Kid failed the big test at school? Fluff-away!”

“Your stupid neighbor won’t shut up about his ‘beautiful designer fluffy’ he talks about 24/7? Fluff-away!”

“You got fired for showing up drunk and now you’ve stumbled into a boutique fluffy salon that charges more than you make in a week? Fluff-away!”

“And we’re back!” The stage is covered floor to floor in bits of fluff and gore.

“For tonight’s last segment, we have…” He reaches into the vagina of a very pregnant fluffy

From the dam is heard:

“Hi nice mistah! Wha’ yu- Nuu touch speshul pwace! Bad touchies am bad fo’ babbehs! SCREEEEEEE”

Crew Darey pulls out a squirming foal, and glances at its back before turning it over, revealing that on its back is tattooed “Wan die race”

“One of my favorites, in ‘Wan die race’ each contestant tries to bring a fluffy to the wan-die-loop as fast as they can. Contestants? GO!”

Each of them grabs a fluffy, and stands in front of a judge, and gets to work.

Gallagher splatters a mothers foals in front of her one at a time. After the last one he gathers what’s left and shoves it up her ass. She starts to wan-die.

Bayne slowly stuffs Carolina reapers into a stallion’s urethrea. He starts to wan-die.

Syle slowly crushes his fluffy from back to front under a folding table. It never actually SAYS wan die, but that’s probably because it was busy vomiting up its organs.

But, as always, Molin wins hands down, as he simply whispers something to his fluffy and it starts mumbling wan die, but Molin then prompts it “Louder!” and it yells. He prompts it again and it screaches the line. Another prompting and the fluffy shreds its vocal chords and drowns in its own blood.

“Ya know,” Crew asks Molin, “You always win that game, but I’ve always wondered what it is that you tell them to get that result.”

“It’s simple, really,” Molin answers, “I cheat. The fluffy spent all of last night watching me mutilate several dozen fluffies in my basement. Then I just tell it that it needs to say ‘wan die’ or I’ll make it wish that it could die.”

“Holy Fuck.”

“Well, that’s all the time we have, and remember to spay or neuter your pets, but also kill every fluffy you see.”

With that, the contestants dumped all the remaining fluffies into a wood chipper which sprayed the bits all over the studio audience.


Had this been a show… I’d be left wondering, “what in the fuck did i just watch?”. However, I’d tune in again and again and again.


I miss who’s line is it anyway



I wish more people took the time to read text posts because this is pure gold.


Yo this would look great as a real show ngl

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