Fluffies - Part 2
Note to Reader: Read Part 1 first: https://www.fluffybooru.org/post/view/43910
You are Anon Smith, and you are 10 years old.
Yesterday your younger sister Candice was given three baby fluffies.
Now, you find yourself staring at them, wanting to hurt them, but not wanting to get in trouble, yet again.
There are three fluffies, sleeping soundly in a fluffpile by the light of your sister's night-light. There is a green fluffy, which Candice named "Princess Holly". She was the "bestest-baby" of her litter, and you just know the fluffy will become the worst kind of brat if it is allowed to live and grow. Then, there is Dora (an explorer don't you know), a blue fluffy, known for exploring things. You are sure this fluffy will end up in your room, shitting on your floor and making a mess of your things. It must die too. Finally, there is Barby, the red fluffy. Small, weak and timid, and known for crying at the slightest surprise. This fluffy becomes deathly afraid any time it is separated from its siblings. Its suffering must be exquisite.
But you don't want to get caught.
By now, your sister and parents are sleeping also, and in the darkness of the night, you are alone to ponder the fluffies fate. Various ideas flash through your mind's eye.
Seeing the little bastards sleeping in their adorably cute fluffpile makes you want to immediately smash them to a pulp with a hammer. Oh how sweet and joyful it would be to mash them to a paste with blow after blow, while they wake and scream and beg, seeing their siblings murdered, crying as their legs are mashed, and finally going quiet. You have visions of your sister, and then your parents waking as you crush the fluffies with blow after blow. "NUUUUU! Pwease nu mowe huwties!" they beg, but you keep on hitting. Eventually, mom and dad would stop them, but you fantasize about breaking free from their grasp, just in time to get the killing blow in on the last fluffy. Licking their blood and tears from your hammer, you sit down, only to realise that you would probably be sent to some school for completely fucked up kids.
No, you mustn't get caught.
You consider sneaking off with the fluffies. You could make it look like they ran away, like the gerbil that your sister lost, which was never found. Dad had told her that the gerbil had gone "exploring" but you knew that if it wasn't in the house, it was dead in the Maine winter outside. Taking the fluffies would be easy, so long as they didn't wake. You could hide them somewhere, and then really take your time with them. Starving them, beating them, cutting off their legs and pitting them against one another for scraps of food. Oh how they would shake and weep with fear as you opened the cellar door. You would make sure that Princess Holly lasted the longest, or maybe the pitiful Barby. If a fluffy gets hungry enough, will it eat its own legs? What about its own sisters?
Best of all, you wouldn't get caught this way.
But no, to really get revenge on your sister for all the times she got you in trouble, the best way to do things is to get HER in trouble.
You decide to make the fluffies lives a living hell, but slowly, and in a way that makes your sister get the blame. You need to be patient and play the long game. Eventually, you could make it look like one or more of the fluffies had ran away, and then really go to town on them. But for the meantime, you have to make the fluffies suffer, and make Candice get the blame.
Remembering that the fluffies are afraid of the "Dawk tiem" you think about turning off the night light. Then you remember, old incandescent bulbs break if you shake them enough, and it will just look like it burned out. Taking the night light, and glancing over your shoulder at your sleeping sister, you shake it until the bulb blows. The room is suddenly dark. You can see nothing, and hear nothing except your own heart, hammering in your chest. One of the fluffies stirs in its sleep, squeaking slightly, and making your heart skip a beat. It settles down though, snuggling back with its sisters.
You continue to kneel next to the fluffpile. Reaching for your phone, you switch on the flashlight, and illuminate the fluffies. Red, Blue and Green. Your plan if they wake is to say you heard them squeal and wanted to check if they are OK. The dead light bulb is your cover for their fear. Now, you think about which fluffy to mess with.
Knowing their tendency to shit when they are afraid, you decide to remove the fluffies from the nest. Dora is the obvious candidate. A natural explorer, surely she would leave the nest at night? Princess Holly was also very disappointed at not being able to sleep in Candice's bed. You think about putting her in bed with Candice, where she will either shit herself or get crushed by Candice rolling over. Looking at your sister's bed though, you realise there is no way a baby fluffy could climb in for itself, or even an adult fluffy, without some way up. Instead, you decide to put Princess Holly on the floor near the bed, as if she was trying to get in. Finally, there is Barby, the scaredy cat of the litter. She wouldn't leave the nest, but gets terribly upset when separated from her littermates. You decide to leave her in the nest alone, making the plan easier, as it is one less fluffy to move. She will be terrified when she awakes.
The moment of truth comes when you have to move the first fluffy. You gently cradle your hands around Princess Holly, feeling the warmth of her fluff, and the gentle rising and falling of her abdomen as she breathes. Working carefully, you ever so gently separate her from her sisters, and creep over to the foot of your sister's bed. The duvet has fallen on the floor slightly, and would be the natural place for the fluffy to attempt to climb. Very carefully, you place the sleeping fluffy on the corner of duvet that is hanging on the floor, and tip-toe back to the fluffy nest.
Next, you slowly repeat the process with Dora, cradling her in your hands. Where to put her? You decide that the dolls house she was exploring earlier is the obvious choice. It is far from the other fluffies, and an antique, having belonged to your great grandmother. Hopefully, the fluffy will panic and crap itself as soon as it wakes up.
Finally, you return to the nest. Eager to hurt Barby, to crush her and maim her, but knowing your life would effectively be over, you are forced to leave her in the nest.
Returning to your room, you prepare to wait, but impatience gets the better of you. Opening your bedroom window, you lean out and grab a loose roof-tile. Then, you hurl the roof-tile at the neighbours fence, knowing it will wake their large and angry dog, which will bark for a good ten minutes before it calms down.
THUD. Slams the roof-tile.
"ARHRH ARHR AHRHR AHRH AHRHR!" Barks the dog, "AHRH AHRH AHRH AhHR AHRH!!!"
"SCREEEEE!" comes a wail from your sister's room, "DAWK TIEM MUNSTAHS!"
"Mummah! Mummah!" cries a feeble sounding fluffy.
"Huu huu huu," cries another fluffy, "Scawedy poopies!"
"ARHR ARHHR ARHRH AJHRHR ARHRH!" the dog continues to bark, as if challenging the fluffies for waking him.
"Wha? Fluffies? Mom!" yells Candice.
You have to bit the insides of your face not to laugh your little ass off at the calamity you have caused.
"ARHH ARHH AHRH ARHR AHRH!"
"Huu huu huu!"
"AHRH AHHR AHRH AHRRR ARHR!"
"Candice!" Calls your mom, "What is going on!"
"Its the neighbours dog! He's barking and its scared the fluffies! The light is gone and... Eeeeeeew..."
"Mom! Its pooped all over my duvet!"
"Oh no, its all over the carpet too, and Oh God is that one crapping in maw-maws Doll House?"
"I'm sorry mommy!"
"Hewp! Fwuffy am wost! Hewp!
"ARHG ARHR AHHR ARRH AHRH!"
The pandemonium lasts about five minutes before your mom is able to capture all of the fluffies. You make the excuse that the noise has woken you up to go and witness the carnage caused by your actions. First, you see you sister, holding Princess Holly, who's poop covered ass is still leaking intermittently. There is poop on the carpet, the duvet, your sister's pyjamas, and both sister and fluffy are crying profusely.
Then you see your mom, chasing the terrified Dora around the Doll's House, growing increasingly irate with the fluffy, which is apparently too scared to let her pick it up. Eventually, she grabs it, far more roughly than baby fluffies are supposed to be picked up. It cries out "Bad upsies!" and starts huuing in earnest as your mom spanks its little butt, calling it a bad fluffy for pooping on maw-maw's doll's house. The trail of shit covers the interior, on walls, floor and ceiling. Dora's scaredy poopies must have been practically explosive.
Your dad comes downstairs, and you both find the final fluffy, Barby, hiding in the nest. Amazingly, this fluffy seems to have managed not to poop itself, although it has pissed itself in terror. It is hiding half under a blanket, and quivering with fear. You make a show of comforting Barby, and make sure that your dad sees you doing so.
Later, your mom takes the dolls house downstairs to clean, telling Candice that the fluffies need a "proper safe room" and telling your dad to clean the fluffies. You watch with glee as your dad uses the electric shower to wash the scaredy poopies from the fluffies fluff. This provokes yet more terror from the fluffies. "Nuuu! Wawa am bad fow fwuffies! Nuuu!" the fluffies all wail and cry as your exasperated father cleans them up. The poopies that somehow managed to stay inside Barby, escape with gusto when the shower water hits her fluff. Barby wails as if she were being showered with sulphuric acid (now there's an idea) but eventually, the showering is over, and the fluffies are returned to their nest, which is put inside a large cardboard box, so they can't climb out.
"Huu huu huu huu huu," weeps Princess Holly, "Why put fwuffies in sowwy box? Nu wub fwuffies nu mowe?"
"Nu wike scawy boxie," adds Barby.
"Pwease wet fwuffies out!" begs Dora.
You make a show of staying to comfort the fluffies and your sister, and your exhausted parents seem grateful. After a long while, the fluffies settle down, and fall asleep in a fluff-pile. You hear your mum, arguing with your dad about the antique doll's house, that she had played with as a child, but they eventually go to bed.
Returning to your room, you lay awake, dreaming up ideas and making plans for the next day. Set on a slow plan, you decide to play the angel in public, and the devil in the shadows. You decide to play with the fluffies all day the next day, but if there should be some kind of "accident" during the day, what could it be? And how could it look like it was all Candice's fault?
What do Anon?
is covered in poop and