You are Dr. Harriet Roseman, one of the people who helped create Fluffies™. You’re starting to help the thing that’s going to kill off what you started.
“This is worse than we thought, until now. We’re created something for fluffy population control, and it just might work. Meet FV-0945. The first fluffy-infecting, talking and moving virus. Made with similar programming as Fluffies, it’ll have a mortality rate of about 80%.” You announce, holding up a small glass vial.
“About that talking part, isn’t that impossible?” Someone asks, confused.
“Here. FV-0945, please speak for everyone.” You say, waiting.
“Eff-vee-oh-nine-fouw-five hewe! I speek wike am a fwuffy an’ nu a vi… viwus so fwuffies come cwoser tu where I am. Stiww smawter than a Fwuffy, though.” It says, quickly becoming quiet again.
“We added the fluff-speak feature in for fun. Now, FV-0945, what are you going to do when we let you… Ahem, have ‘housie-friends’?” You ask, slightly curious yourself.
“I gonna gib their cewws weplication-huggies! Dat means Eff-vee-oh-nine-fouw-five make mowe of self! Then housie-fwends git bestest sickies and gu night-nights!” It answered, making a small noise, then quieting down again.
"That’s the plan, FV-0945! Now, can you make ‘hoomins’ your ‘housie-friends’? You ask once more.
“Nu! If Eff-vee-oh-nine-fouw-five twy gib hoomin cewws huggies, it not wowk and I nu make mowe of self, an’ nu bestest sickies!” It explains in a bubbly tone, swishing the liquid in its tube up and down.
“All good! Now, you ready to be let go?” Someone else asks, taking the tube from you.
“Aww gud, timesie tu gu!” It laughs, swishing the liquid around again.
“Alright, let’s go then.” They say, walking out the sliding doors.
Your name is… Eff-vee… Whatever, it’s too confusing to say, and you only said it for those white-clothes people. You just got let outside! Finally, you’re been there for a few forevers.
Your name is #34! You get sharp pokies every day, and they make you give cells huggies for some reason, which you don’t mind, because you get more friends like you! They say you could ‘ee-lim-inn-ate’ the fluffy population problem, but what ARE fluffies, and why don’t they like them?
“Huwties! Owwwies!” You cry out, shaking yourself from side to side.
“It can talk? It can talk! Fluff-speak addition successful!” Someone cheers, picking your glass tube up and onto another table.
There, they write something down and write it on your tube, as well.
"Your new name is FV-0945. It stands for Fluffviridae, the viral family you’ve been sorted into, then the month and year you were bor- Made. The month and year you were made. They corrected themself, sitting your tube back onto the table.
“Wha? Eff… Eff-ve… Eff-vee? Nu wike namesie.” You complain, swatting the liquid around you.
“Okay, now shut up before I get the disinfectant and kill you with it for that complaint alone.” They threaten, picking up a small spray bottle.
“Nu, nu wan’ ‘diss-en-fek-tint’. Nu gib sowwy spway, pwease.” You beg, moving the liquid around you, trying to hide in it.
End of Flashback
You didn’t like that place at all, but you need to make the people there happy, or they’ll find you, and replace you with a better, more fluffy-like virus who does their job right the first time. And as you see a fluffy, what better time to do your job right than now?