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Fluffy Springs Saga
Side Story 13.1

Monday, August 30


He kept turning things over in his mind. Where had he gone wrong? Those other fluffies were bad! Why didn't they realize it?


The sorry poopies should have worked. It had to. That's just the way things worked.


He turned towards the noise. A white fluffy was looking at him. But the sorry poopies should have worked. He turned around and faced the end of an alley way. Why did his wings hurt? He tried flapping them but it just made the pain intensify.


Exactly! Sorry poopies! He'd tried to give it to the red fluffy, and the red fluffy was certainly deserving of them. Why hadn't that worked? His poopie place hurt for some reason.

He felt some pressure on a leg, so lifted it up. The pressure went away. His aim had been good. He set the leg down. Another leg went up, hovered for a bit, then he set it back down too. Sure, the distance was off, but that should have been enough anyway. Something was nuzzling another leg, so he pulled it away from the annoyance. Any fluffy should know that bad poopies meant one had been a bad fluffy. Down went the leg. Obviously, bad poopies had to mean something. Another leg was moving now, but he set it back to where it had been as well.

He swayed a bit. Had something moved him? Sorry poopies was supposed to be moving, at least emotionally. It meant something, didn't it? He tried flapping his wings to regain some balance, but they didn't seem to help. And they hurt! Why did they hurt?!

The noise was gone. But the problem with the sorry poopies was still there. He ran.

Running made his back hurt. His wingies! They hurt!


He ran more. He saw some black rock under him and heard a loud sound behind him. His poopie place tried to open wider but that really hurt! Why did his poopie place hurt? He couldn't seem to close it either.

He slowed down back on the dirt. Sorry poopies had to work. He aimed at a broken bottle and sent out his sorry poopies.

Instead, only a dribble of shit poured down his fluff and he had the worst burnies and owies!


Something was wrong. He tried to flap his wings but it just caused pain. Did his wings give him sorry poopies?! It felt like something was flowing down his sides. He turned in a little circle looking for the pile of feces that his wings were giving him. He saw the attempted sorry poopies, but it didn't look right. There were different colors there. He saw red and yellow and some white. Lots of white. That didn't make sense. His sorry poopies were supposed to be poopie colored, not the colors he'd seen other fluffies have.

But he remembered for sure and very clearly. The red fluffy had been just past his very poopie colored sorry poopies. His poopie place hurt but it didn't when he'd done the sorry poopies.

Why didn't that work?

He started walking. Maybe walking would help him think. Sorry poopies didn't work. That was supposed to work! Why did his wings hurt? He tried flapping them but that made them hurt more.

He felt a strong wind go past him and he saw himself for a brief moment, then darkness, then himself again for a small brief moment. Something sounded almost like those swimmy flappy monsters that played in the bad wa-wa that was in the city. Would sorry poopies work on that? But they hadn't worked! Why hadn't that worked? He looked back towards the alley.

He stepped forward more, briefly looking at the black rock under his feet. The sorry poopies were aimed right and had come up short but that shouldn’t matter! Why did his wings hurt?

The hot bright ball in the sky disappeared, turning the day dark, yet something hot passed over him with a loud whooshing sound like the wind. The sorry poopies should have let the red fluffy know it was being bad. That's the way it worked! The bright ball came back.

His little mind didn't understand! They always worked! They had to! His poopie place hurt. And why couldn't he flap his wings? Did they go away?

He heard another loud flappy-monster-like sound. Sorry poopies always worked!

Then he didn't think about it anymore.

Nor did he think about anything else.



- Reply
Anonymous1: Those flappy noises must have been his windies coming to carry him home.
- Reply
CwinicawDepwession: Neat, but I'm pretty unclear on what went down at the very end there
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PencilWingie: Hmm. How to not spoil.

If you read it again, pay attention to what he sees and hears, especially colors and images. Also, it’s not flapping that he hears, but something similar to a very large obnoxious semi-aquatic bird.
- Reply
Anonymous2: He was eaten by a bird, the end.
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CwinicawDepwession: Ah, think I got it now. Street pizza. Lookin forward to the next bit as always!

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MAVVET_CO: @PencilWingie: was it a roc?
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Anonymous3: What noises do large obnoxious semi-aquatic birds make, that's *not* flapping? How 'bout... honking?

How 'bout that black rock, too.

Anyway, this was great, both as a disturbing and effective rendition of mental trauma, and because lmao this fuckin' bestes' babbeh having its bubblegum world shattered. Fuck you, worthless overfed ball of pampered lard.
- Reply
Anonymous4: Talking about bubblegum, what would happen if you stuck two foals together with bubblegum?
- Reply
Anonymous5: @Anonymous:
some loud sticky shit