Write a smol story 13 (InfraredTurbine)

You know how it goes folks, tell me what happened here or feel free to write about it ^^

I didn’t color the whole picture cuz… cuz…
It’s a good question…

For commissions, illustrations and flying cats, feel free to contact me!


Wilbur is Chip. Always has been. Always will be. Daddy is trying to convince him he’s someone different by replacing his food with kibble he can’t eat in a bowl much too big. He’s given him a new name too.


Wilbur looked down at the pile of rock-hard kibble in his food bowl once again, each individual pellet as big as his whole mouth. It had been the third time this week his daddy had poured out the kibble and the third time this week Wilbur had been unable to eat anything."

“Daddeh? Dis kibbeh am tuu biggies. Am onwy smaww babbeh, nu can num kibbeh.”

“Fah FUCK’S sake Chip, shut yer whining and fooking eat it.”

Wilbur screeched and ran as the glass bottle of burning liquids shattered on the wall behind him. He ran into the next room and hid under the table, where he lay starving and shivering until his daddeh had stopped yelling.

Wilbur slowly climbed out from under the table and looked up at what was on top, a picture of his smiling Fluffy Father lit with a single candle underneath and the words ‘R.I.P. Chip’ engraved in a metal plague at the bottom of the frame.

“Huu, Wiwbuh miss Fwuffy daddeh tuu daddeh.”


Chip was the sole spot of color in his owner’s life. So small, yet so cute and sweet with those big puppy eyes. The moment his food was set down the little foal looked up with the shiny, eeyore-sad eyes and droopy ears that he was known for, thanking his owner for the meal that he would do his very best to eat. And there was enough to feed him for days! Only the best nummies for little Chip.

The foal’s true words and real name were not part of his colorful existence, so they went ignored.


“Wilbur, you came here. You asked for a home. It’s not our fault you’re too small to eat what we have. We were going to buy a big fluffy, but because you came along, that big fluffy isn’t getting a home. Ever. Now, are you going to eat like a good boy, or starve like Chip did?”


You bring in a new foal, like all the others, you don’t even buy a new plate, you just cross out the old name and put the new one, there have been so many so far, the one that took the least time was 19 hours, the one that took the longest was 5 days, you know he will never be able to eat them, They are special kibble for punishing Fluffies, even an adult would have to hurt his teeth to chew them, and their high fat content prevents them from being softened with water, you hope Wilbur gives you a good show, Chip managed to gnaw some of the soft flesh off his two front paws before he passed away. it was absolutely hilarious


I’m sure you will work it out when you get hungry enough.


“pwease daddeh? babbeh nee miwkies! huuhuu.” His owner feigned sorrow and shook his head.

“I’m sorry bud but you said you’re a big boy that doesn’t need to listen to daddy. Big boys eat kibble. I tried to tell you but you didn’t listen.” wilbur stamped his feet in a tantrum.

“Nu faiw! Wiwbuw nu wan hungwies. Nu kno’ kibbwe am tu biggies. Wiwbuw sowwy!” his owner scratched his ear and stood up.

“I’m sorry but this is what happens when you don’t listen to daddy. Even if you didn’t mean to you could get hurt.” Wilbur cried bitterly.

“Wiwbuw hope awways wisten tu daddy fwom nao on.” His owner stared out the window at the fence in front of his yard. He looked to the one slat of varnished pine that looked bright and out of place among the black walnut fence. He could swear he saw the stone embedded in the boulevard beyond it. The bright happy rainbow painted across the top and the name chip he’d carved into it by hand.

“Me too bud.” He said hiding a short crack in his voice. “me too.”


“look you’re not getting it so just shut your face and I promise to feed you tomorrow.” The foal whined having never known a day of hunger.

“Bu’ babbeh nee miwkies!” He whined confused.

“No you don’t and you’re not a baby so stop saying that. four week old fluffies are happy with kibble.”

“Am onwy fwee days owd daddeh! yu nu wub chip wike owd mummah?” daddy grabbed him and held him up to his face. his breath still burned from last nights drinking.

“Look dipshit you never had a mummah. I raised you alone for the last four weeks. Your name is Wilbur, got it? Wil-bur.”

"Chip nu wan’ nyu namesie. Wike owd namesie!

“You were the only orange and purple foal I could find on such short notice but that isn’t the bargaining chip you think it is. You’re getting a home and food and love and toys and all the other shit you wanted all you have to do is get it right. You say one word to my little angel about who you really are and I swear I’ll send you off the fourteenth story balcony just like the the last wilbur.” Chip was sucking on a hoof as he spoke. He didn’t like this new scary daddy. daddy sighed and wiped off his tears.

“Just be loving and playful and I’m sure you’ll do fine. Are you ready?” Chip nodded. “Then run out to the hall and yell ‘Wilbur loves you little mama.’ I’ll even get spaghetti for after she’s gone.”


Well, we could make it smaller using your head as hammer until it becomes very fine powder (your head or the kibble), or you could eat poopies until you’re grown enough.

Or you could lick it until is soft and chewy. Choice is yours you silly


Everyone gets so creative about these, I love it!


me: You’re not a baby anymore, so choose, you swallow that or starve to death, I don’t care


Wilbur looked up at his daddy with sad eyes and began to wonder why he had been acting weird these past bright times. he saw how his daddy would watch TV but the thing was not on there was no sorry stick and ball game that he watches a lot and there was no fluffy TV either it was just a pitch-black nothingness. There were times his daddy would even forget to put him in his safe room and though he is a good baby he always said that if he was not there he was supposed to be in his safe room a rule that he followed since the day he was born. Then there was the time when he brought home nummies and put them away, but the next bright time he put them in the trashy even though it was not yucky or no smelled pretty. Now he giving hard kibble that is too hard and big for you.

“Daddeh? Daddeh? why no wub Wiwbuh?”


Daddy looks away from the TV and gives you a bit of a scary stare but at the same time, it looks like he is having head hurties like you do when you ask questions about certain stuff that makes you curious.

“No…No…Daddy loves you a lot Chip”

You look at your daddy with a funny look as he calls you by your fluffy daddy’s name.

“Daddeh no am fuffeh Daddeh am Wiwbuh, fuffeh Daddeh am foweba sweepies member?”

Your daddy looks at you for a very long time that it scares you a bit, then turns away an rubs his see places.

“Right…sorry Wilbur…Hey, listen I’m gonna go to the doctor for a bit you just go to your safe room and I’ll get your milk Ok?”


You head for your safe room where you snuggle up on your soft bed with the biggest heart hurties for some unknown reason. It not because of the nummies because like daddy says “sometimes we all make mistakes” but now you have the biggest scardies for your daddy and the way he’s been acting these past bright times, maybe if you take a bit of napys you wake up with you daddy being his old self again. Unknown to you however that daddy got you into your room he forgot to leave you milk like he said he would and left home without his keys and leaving the house with the front door open.


It is a little exploited topic, the mistreatment without bad intentions, people who have mental problems can cause harm to their loved ones without having that intention, and fluffies would not be out of that possibility, an elderly owner with senile dementia who kills his fluffies because he sincerely forgets their existence and their struggle to remind him that they exist.


Yeah, its a sad thing which I was going for and for fluffys who don’t understand the world they live in and don’t understand the illnesses that humans may get, and it does come from a personal thing when my grandma was going through this before she passed away.


“Chip, you dumb shit, come closer to the viewer. You’re not a babbeh; you just look like one when you’re that far away because of the perspective.”


(pisses in the bowl) There, I softened it for you.


Love the short color area, its like “before” and the outcome would be a full color “after” art.

The owner gently put some fluffy milk into the bowl and soften the kibble.

“Ok, now try it” the owner asked his fluffy foal.

The foal gently nibble the soften kibble and was delighted added the sweet milk boosted the flavor.

Wagging his lil tail as he gently nibble his food.

“Peep! Peep! Tank ou daddeh, dis is much bettah! Babbeh can num kibbwe nao”.


“Wilbur…” said wilburs daddy kong, " you a gay ahh muhfugga im gon keel yew if i ever see u non eat ur kibbow" wilbur then ate kibble and was mauled by a stray tumble weed who hated gay lil ass fluffies named wilbur ass fluffy. Fin.

1 Like

Wilbur: Dis nummies tu big, daddeh… Fwuffeh nu can num nummies…
Owner: hmmm, I got just the thing for it
-Owner puts kibble into food processor, blending it into smaller, digestible chunks for his micro-
Owner: How’s this, little buddy?
Wilbur: Much bettew. Fankyu, daddeh.


(To the tune of “Pilate’s Dream”)

I dreamed
I met a microfluffy
A very tiny stallion
He had that look, so sad and forlorn
But in a tiny form

I asked him to say what had happened
To Chip, the one he replaced,
I asked again, he only whined a bit
Like a typical ungrateful shit

And next, the room was full
Of smarties and bad mummahs
They seemed to hate this Wilbur
They fell on him and then,
they disappeared again

Then I heard,
Thousands of millions,
huu-huu’ing for poor Chip,
And then I heard them mentioning Wilbur’s name
And leaving him
the blame