abuse acne chemical_burn cosmetics experiments explicit laboratory laboratory_fluffies makeup medication regeneration roadkill run-over so_much_death steroids test_fluffy testing_with_fluffies work


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Laboratory; Cosmetic Carnage

Your card clicks into the slot as you punch in, roughly shoving it back into your pocket and walk through the glass double doors. You are greeted warmly by the receptionist, a middle-aged woman with a smile and a bowl full of candy, which she lets you pilfer to your heart's content. Seeing as the holidays are just around the corner, you take a piece and wish her a good morning, popping in the sugary treat as you'd make your way to your section of the Research Facility.

The pristine white hallways and calm hum of the fluorescent lights overhead belie a rather nasty underbelly to this whole scientist gig. And soon enough the reason is clear as a scream and a splatter smacks against a nearby window, shreds of Fluffy Gore slowly being peeled off by a less than thrilled Janitor who's at this point been squatting in the laboratory so he doesn't have to constantly walk back and forth to clean the same place again and again. You feel kinda bad for him, the remains of those things are pretty nasty, and he has to clean that shit up for nearly 10 hours a day.

You walk into one of the laboratories, this one labelled as Pharmaceutical and Cosmetics Research. You look at your co-worker, an African-American man who smiled back and waved as he put on some cosmetics on a mare who was preening herself about being 'Su Pwetty!'. It was kind of cute, though you'd notice she was starting to wince slightly.


Her eyes shot open and she began yowling and crying out "Ow! OW! OWWIE! OWWIE! IT BUWWWNIN'! GEDDITOFF!". Her hooves began scratching and pawing at her face, trying to wipe it off of her as best she could, but in doing so she only smeared it on her legs and made her skin begin to grow welts on their as well.

Your co-worker had gotten a wet washcloth and began scrubbing off the makeup, though in doing so he rubbed her burnt skin raw and red, the remaining layer of skin beneath looking shiny and weeping with blood as she sobbed and coughed, looking like a burn victim.

"Darn, more defective cosmetics...ah well, we'll remake the formula to see if we can make it less dangerous. Take this one away..." came a voice over the intercom, the Fluffy Pony Mare going stiff as she lunged forward and feebly grabbed the lapels of your co-worker’s coat and began begging for her life.

“NU! PWEASE NU WET DEM PUT MAWE DOWN! C-CAN KEEP BEIN’ HEWPEW TO NICE MISTAH! PWEASE, NU!” she pleaded, but was effortlessly torn away from the man, kicking and crying for mercy as one of the workers took her away. To be honest, you started to doubt how ‘humane’ the practices were that were instated to keep the PETA folks quiet about using Fluffies as test subjects.

Then again, seeing as they were technically not ‘animals’ but ‘bio-toys’, there wasn’t as much ethical concerns on using them for experiments before products were released for human consumption. But damn it all if their screaming and intelligent (albeit limited) speech didn’t make one seriously question this.

You go to check on the progress of some new beauty products like anti-acne cream on some fluffies who had been fed the greasiest crap on the market and kept from cleaning themselves, allowing nasty zits to form on them that were worse than even some of the biggest pizza faces. A few of them had worked, the acne beginning to slowly deflate a bit or at least look less red and inflamed over the past few days. The rest had only aggravated their acne and turned the Fluffy Ponies into walking pustules who weep pus...or had melted their skin and exterior flesh off until they were a puddle of twitching sinew and gooey bone like something out of Gremlins.

If nothing else, at least some of them had been working. Then came the issue of the new hair growth formula-some of the fluffies had ended up losing all their fur, clutching it bashfully to their privates in an attempt to hide their nudity, while the other half had become walking mops of long, luscious locks who tripped over their own hair. They were kinda cute, in a weird way.

Then came less cosmetic products and supplements-a trio of Fluffies, being an Earthy Mare, A Unicorn Mare, and a neutered Pegasus Stallion had been fed the supplements for about 4 or so weeks. They had developed massive muscles thanks to a myostatin-like protein that had been synthesized in the Health Supplements, causing their muscles to regrow over themselves until they became ‘double muscled’ freaks of nature. But as freakishly bulging as their physiques were, seeing as they stretched their skin like taffy and made their fur become thick and wiry like steel wool, they were quite functional. One of them was currently benching a 25 lb weight whereas the other one had wrenched the water-bottle off its stand, snapping the metal in half in doing so.

Time flies, and with it so does the screaming of the failed tests as the sun begins to set, before eventually you got the chance to clock out and make your way back out the hallway and exit through the doors. You say goodbye to the groaning janitor who was trying to mop up the oozing remains of the Acne-Medicine Fluffies, and of course goodbye the amiable receptionist who was packing up for the night and, she had informed you quite cheerfully, was looking forward to a bridge game with her friends.

You step out into the cool evening air, stretching your back as you walk across the parking lot and feel something brush past your leg. Jolting from the sudden feeling, you look down to find a Fluffy Pony waddling swiftly across the pavement, laughing hysterically as tears streamed down his face and he grinned so wide it looked like his head was about to split in half.

“Fwee! Stem am finnawwy Fwee! Fwee! Fwee! FW-” his cheering was cut short as your co-worker accidentally backed up over him, waving you goodbye as he drove away, sickening snaps and squishing noises as he drove off with Fluffy gore stuck into the grooves of his tires.

You make your way to your own car, buckling as you think to yourself ‘Man, life pretty much has just given the middle finger to those little fuckers…’ before driving off, looking forward to kicking back and relaxing for the night.

*Alternate End/Epilogue*

The road-pizza’ed Fluffy twitched, the pelt slowly unpeeling itself off the gravel as bones clicked and relocked into place, muscles knitting and mending themselves as a scab that had formed to cover the open stomach cavity began to swell and grow stubby little backlegs that began stretching and creaking.

The pale Fluffy’s body had fully re-inflated itself, bubbling sacs of flesh beginning to fill with vitreous jelly as his eyes grow back, blinking once or twice as the pupils refocused themselves. The crushed and mangles spine cracked and twisted as the Fluffy’s lungs gasped for air, re-aligning itself as Stem shook himself off and sneezed, giving a brief sigh as he looked around himself.

“Weww, stiww am Fwee…” he said to himself, making his way to the high grass as a loon cried out in the distance to the tune of a chorus of crickets...


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megatek: stem... could this be the origin of the dreaded pumpkin's blood line?
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HugboxingSadboxer: Second person narration? Really?

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differential_Sloth: @HugboxingSadboxer: What's the problem with it?

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FluffyPuncher: @megatek: you mean William?
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HugboxingSadboxer: @differential_Sloth: It's generally discouraged in creative writing unless it's warranted for some literary reason, and I see no such reason. Fanfic is rife with it, so why even try, right?
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Boogeyman123: @HugboxingSadboxer: Fair enough.
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Anonymous1: Is he called stem because he was involved in highly expiremental stem cell research?