Worthless, by Gardel


By Gardel


It’s a day like any other and you go to your job.

You open the door…

Art by Babbehteef

…and there’s 2 foals around a dead decomposing mare.

Nee miwkies! hungwy!

Mista be nyu daddeh?

As you walk towards your car you see a brown hawk, its beak burrowing around the stomach of a powder-blue fluffy stallion in the middle of the sidewalk. The stallion is still alive, gasping for air and crying as the hawk tosses its stringy intestines all over the asphalt to get to the fluffy’s tasty liver.

GASP! sp-speshu f-fwend…hewp…

Even if you cared to help it you can’t even touch the hawk since its a protected real animal, while the fluffy is an invasive fake animal. The hawk here is the good guy, he’s making the world a favor by helping destroy this new plague. Meanwhile the fluffy’s only sin was to be born.

You stop by fluffmart to get some snake food foals. You could save using free feral foals but you never know what parasites they might have so its better to spend $5 in foals that are at least clean. As always the colors are different shades of shit and piss, there’s a reason these are sold as snake food. When you get home you pull one of the 4 foals out of the box and throw it at your white and black Argentine Tegu.

Cheep cheep! nuuuu!

You can still hear the faint cries of the shit-yellow foal from inside the lizard. The other 3 get to stay in the box and nibble on a small block of soft blue nutrigel that will keep them alive until they too become dinner.

As you’re mowing your lawn on the weekend you run over a pink mare and some of its foals that were nesting in the middle of some high grass.

Whu, wa am dat noisy?

A wave of gore, blood and fluff coming out from the slot as the blades tear the fluffies to pieces. The biggest piece left is the lower half of a pink filly, tiny stubby weggies still kicking the air. It stops, then shits itself despite not having a head anymore. Now you’ve to spend the rest of the weekend powerwashing fluf mixed with gore and shit from your lawnmover and yard.

When you drive your company truck to the depot a herd tries to cross the road. You use the horn to scare them so they’ll go away but instead the dumb shitrats start running in circles in the middle of the lane too scared and stupid to actually run on one direction. You wouldn’t risk a rollover for a deer, why bother with a bioengineered pest? Besides this Tesla semi its worth more than your own life.

So you plow into the herd. Fluffies go airbone all around, some explode again the grille, bumper and other parts of the truck like water balloons full of blood and shit. No damage to the body panels, not even to the paint which in any case has a self-healing coat. Many are flattened whole under the tires, other less fortunate ones only get partially squashed or torn in half and get to die a slow agonizing death on the hot asphalt instead of a quick trip to oblivion.

Later on a Dinner on the side of the road you see one of the fluffy control drones. The new models, four propellers instead of three and nearly autonomous. They fly around with a thermal camera and use computer vision to identify fluffies hiding in grasses, bushes and crops. You can tell the drone found something when it stops and just hovers. After that either two things happen: another much bigger drone with an orange plastic tank comes over and sprays clouds of fluffycide on the herd, or a fluffycontrol van shows up and the exterminator go and literally beat the shit out of the feral fluffies, and sometimes both if the herd its too big.

Over the weekend you get at least 7 different stray fluffies knocking at your door begging for you to adopt them, or just for some food. You’ve learned to shoo them away else they’ll come back to beg again, specially if you’re dumb enough to give them even the tiniest of scraps. Some cocky ones demand things, you kick those sometimes strong enough to kill them but most of the time only so that they wont ever dare to come again, though sometimes you accidentally cripple them so you need to get your shovel and throw them in the biobin across the street. No way you’re touching a filthy feral even with gloves, you could get Lyme or some shit.

Nextdoor your neighbor Larry came back from his vacation and found a fluffy herd had made a den in his backyard. He tried to grab them and pull them out but one of the fluffies bit him. No biggie their crap teeth can’t even break skin, but it got him really mad. The den had two entrances so he shoved papers and sticks on one and set it on fire to smoke them out. And indeed after a few squeaky screams about ‘buwnie huwties’ fluffies started running out from the other side. Too bad Larry was waiting for them right there with a lead pipe. The first one to go was a fat yellow unicorn stallion, the always brave smarty that shoved his way out stepping on mares and foals. It got hit so hard the top of its skull broke off, brains coming out from its ears and splattered all over the grass. Then came a soon-mummah that Larry kicked on the side sending it tumbling across the lawn.

SCREEEEEEE! BIGGEST POOPIES! - it yelled as it went into premature labor. The chirpies weren’t “chirping” at all, they had some fuzz so maybe it was the impact that killed them.

Who cares…

Next came some some fillies and colts. Because the foals were too small to easily smash them with the pipe Larry simply stomped them with his boots while swearing about having to remove the bits of entrails and shit from the soles. Finally were 5 adults who got clubbed to death. Nothing original, most fluffies end like this, few people bother wasting a 22lr bullet since shitrats die so easily. Better save that for more hardy animals like mice.

Later you had your weekly chat with your brother. He didn’t have a good day: her gf’s fluffy mare got knocked up a few weeks ago and she decided to let her have the babbehs instead of getting some foal-b-gone. Why? so after they were born she could flush the chirpie foals down the toilet to teach the mare a lesson. The plan backfired, flushing 5 foals clogged the toilet.

“You know what’s even worse than a dead rotting foal bro? a dead rotting foal that’s been soaking in human shit inside a pipe. The little shits were so bloated their eyes popped open”. -He said

Back at work. Outside the depot you hear some screams.

“Fucking shitrats!”

Huuu! wun! wun!

Suddenly you see a red stallion and a green mare hauling ass at 5km/h from a door. The mare has 5 foals on its back. Suddenly a brown beer bottle flies out the door



It hits the stallion square in the face, broken glass shards stuck all over his body

Wowest huwties! -screams the blinded stallion as it stumbles on its side, blood pouring out from a hundred cuts

Nuuu speshow fwend! nee wun! hewp famiwy! pwee-KICK-SCREEEEEEEE!

“I told you fuckers to stay away!” - and before the mare could scream again the security guy stomped its head flat, rest of the body twitching before going still.

“Nuuuuu! mummah! nee miwkies!” -says a pink filly while hugging the belly of the mare

The guy walks off, doesnt even bothers with the foals. He knows that unweaned ones wont last a day without their parents.

“Dat babbeh nee’ miwkies! hahaha!” -says some fat bald guy smoking next to a forklift before going back to checking instagram thots on his phone.

These things have become so ubiquitous that you sometimes have trouble remembering a time when the idea of bioengineered toys was a fantasy and not something so commonplace its no longer a novelty but a major environmental problem. Fluffies have been around since you were a teen and now that the hype has long died down and fluffies went from being a product to being a problem the “magic” is gone. You sometimes wonder what it would be like for people in the past to see one of these living plushie toys, would they be ecstatic about them? or would the uncanny valley effect of a made-up animal in the shape of a cartoon repulse them? Would they like fluffies with their engineered looks and dayglo colors? or outright reject them as being too artificial and fake? Would they be surprised that they can talk? or horrified at their eerily baby talk?

Later back home you suddenly hear a noise from your front door.

You open it…and of course its a fluffy…

The starving stallion has a sole foal on its back.

Pwease mistah, nee’ housie, nummies, fo’ babbeh

There is no mare or other foals

“Where did you get that foal? did you steal it?”

Huuuu, nu mista, foal is wastest babbeh, aww otha babbehs took foweba sweepies afta speshul fwend. Nu nummies, huuu, so hungwy

You take a look at him: a crappy green earthie, turd-brown mane.

Starved, ribs showing, pieces of fluff missing, probably diseased.

The foal however is a unicorn, dark blue with a pink and white mane and tail.

Its no alicorn but those are some awesome colors so its still worth something.

“Look man I can’t take you in”- but before you can end what you’re saying the shitrat goes hysteric

Huuuu! pwease! nu wan babbeh to hav foweba sweepies tu!

“Quiet! I said I can’t take YOU in, but I can take care of your foal there”

Wu, weawy? bu, y nu can hewp fwuffy too?

“I cant alright? but I can assure you it will have a good life, food and toys even”

Fwuffy nevah hav toysies, nevah hav sketties…

“I’ll give it sketties too, is it a colt or a filly?”

Babbeh…babbeh am fiwwy

“Great, more valuable then” - since you can sell it to a breeder for way more than a store would pay.

Mistah suwe cant hewp fwuffy too? onwy babbeh?

“Yeah, besides you’re practically dead, I’m pretty sure you got the worms”

Huuuhuu, wost speshul fwend, wost babbehs, onwy wastest babbeh…otay mistah, fwuffy gib babbeh if mistah hewp

As you say that you pick up the little crying filly with a tissue as the stallion stays there while you walk back inside and close the door.

Huuu, gu-bai wast babbeh, d-daddeh wuvs ou’!

You’re tempted to feed the filly to your Tegu but then you remember the new Playstation 12 comes out next week and this shitrat here might get you enough money to buy one

Because unlike most fluffies this one its not worthless.


The sheer, lifeless banality of dealing with the fluffies is interesting. It’s like everyone is over it. Including, possibly, the abusers.


What a dystopic future full of pests.


I remember this one from fluffybooru.

A nice story about the uncaring world to fluffies.


The world is a cruel place for tiny horses


I couldn’t have said it better.


To be honest, it’s probably the one that’s most likely to happen if you were to introduce something like them in real life (well, with less casual cruelty… probably). As soon as people move onto the next big thing they’re going to be the weird cultural relic from whichever decade they were made whose appeal is probably baffling to future generations like pet rocks, Tamagotchi, etc. Their moment in the zeitgeist has passed and the only thing left is to manage them; not like you can just toss them into a landfill or thrift store. Even abuse, like you said, seems to have lost its luster since it implies that the average person puts enough thought toward them to feel one way or the other.

Simply not caring about them is probably a harsher sentence to something meant to be social than anything else you could do, really.


Another classic arrives. Thanks for posting!

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Consider the protagonist is in his late 30’s meaning its been 15-20 years since fluffies launched and not only is the fad gone but feral ones are becoming a pest

My stories tend to be located in a long timeline where fluffies go from super-expensive designer products (Cruelty) to a massive ecological catastrophe (Farmlands) most of the stories being located somewhere in the middle when fluffies became a cheap commodity exploited for a number of uses


Bleakbox in a nutshell


It’s like that one gif of two fluffies humping at breakneck speeds. Sure, something is happening but nobody looks like they’re having any fun.


Holy fuck, this is one of the best pieces I’ve read here.

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We abusers are a cowardly, superstitious, &, more to the point, inconsistent lot, after all. Though there is the surprisingly large group of us who obsess over making intricate, Edgar Allan Poe like torture plans for subintelligent childsafe hairballs programmed to love us.
That lot do not seem likely to stop for anything,

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“What would your feelings be, seriously, if your cat or your dog began to talk to you, and to dispute with you in human accents? You would be overwhelmed with horror. I am sure of it.

Have to agree with Mr. Machen on that.

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Sounds like the kind of future with fluffies around, all around pests that are more annoying eyesores than anything but occasionally fun killing.

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Can’t forget legal. The legal part is important.

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