author:flufferk brutal burny-hurties death explicit fire foals sadbox


The Goddamn House Is On Fire
by Flufferk


“GU 'WAY!” Lemon roared, squaring her shoulders in fury. “NU HUWT BABBEHS!”

Slim threads of flame had feathered towards her foals. The closet had started burping black smoke into the safe room some time ago; subtle licks of fire had begun to emerge from under the door.

“Eeeee!” her foals peeped, hugging each other frantically.

“Sabe fwuffy, speshul fwiend!” Lime bawled from his supine position. Urine darkened the lush carpeting under his hindquarters as he held his hooves tightly against his eyes.

Lemon roared inarticulately. The orange munstahs would dash out towards her mate and foals and retreat and disappear the instant she stomped towards them. Stupid, cowardly munstahs! She'd never let them hurt her family!

An especially stubborn thread of orange flickered and tried to run between her hooves and she instinctively stomped down onto it. The flame was extinguished almost instantaneously, but the subsequent scorch on her soft hoofpad sent a pulse of agony up her weggie.

“WEMON HATECHU!” she howled at the stubborn closet munstahs. “NU HUWT FAMIWY!”

When another feather of orange slithered towards her foals, she turned and lifted her tail.

“Fwuffy mummah gib yu...” Her face contorted and her body tensed. “SOWWY POOPIES!”

Her expulsion was... Magnificent. Lime gasped in amazement as his special friend launched a barrage of poopies
that covered the burning carpet in a thick blanket of wet evil. He hadn't known such a poopie was even possible! The rancid slop forced the munstahs to retreat back under the closet door.

Still shitting, Lemon turned and thundered her superiority at the closet door. The thick spray of feces pulsed in time with her heartbeat, splattering the walls and encasing the corner of the saferoom in a fetid stink.

Lime gasped. “Wemon am hewo!”

The foals raced towards her, wrapping their huggies around her fat yellow legs.

“Peep!” Muffin exclaimed. “Cheepie PEEP...” His yellow eyelids pinched shut as he concentrated. “Wuh... Wub!”

Lemon gasped in amazement.

“Wub... Wub mummah!” he exclaimed.

Lemon gathered up the colt in a tight huggy.

“Babbeh am talky babbeh nao!” she exclaimed, orange munstahs temporarily forgotten. “Mummah su happy!”

Not to be outdone, the green filly plopped down onto her rump and spread her tiny hoofsies in a “gif huggies” pose.

“Eeep!” she squeaked. “Wuuuuh.... Wub!”

Throwing back her head in ecstasy, Lemon laughed her joy into the smoke-filled room.

“Wemon suuuuu happy!”

Behind her, the tangle of flames waited patiently beneath the closet door.

“Gif mummah huggies, talky babbehs!” she squealed, gathering up her foals gleefully.


You're finally a talky baby! Your name is Muffin and you love huggies, play, and sketties! Now that you can speak, your life is perfect!

Yes, there's some sort of terrifying munstah living in the closet, and yes it's putting out long, skinny weggies towards you and your sister, but your mummah is here to protect you! Her sorry poopies were the sorriest poopies ever! They squished the munstah and made it sleep forever! Nothing can hurt you with mummah here! She's the bravest, strongest fluffy in the whole world!

“Wub!” you cry. “Wub mummah!”

You're trying to say: “Thank you for saving my sister and I, oh glorious mother!” but that's all you can manage at the moment. Only time will tell what kinds of fascinating words you'll learn!

“Wuuuuh..... Wub!” your mirror-opposite sister squeaks.

And now she's a talky baby too! Even better!

But what's this? Another meanie weggie is snaking out towards you! You're sure that mummah's sorry poopies will destroy it again!

But something's wrong! Mummah's face is all squished and straining and her beautiful nostrils are flaring wildly, but the burny-weggie is still there! She hasn't killed it at all! Pendulous milky-places swinging, she crouches down on her front legs and raises her rear but still can't produce effect!

“EEE!” you chirp. “Scawy!”

But life's still perfect because now you've learned another new word! Sure, things are rather terrifying at the moment (that burny-weggie-thingie is getting really close), but you're up to two words! And since your mummah's the bravest, strongest fluffy ever , you have nothing to worry about!

Oh dear! Your mummah couldn't find any more sorry poopies to throw at the burny-weggie so she's tried something else! You wonder if it will work!



Having failed to find further reserves of fecal firefighting fury, Lemon spread her hind legs, flared her tail, and expelled a blast of dark urine in the general direction of the orange munstahs. The assault had none of the roaring glory of her sorriest sorry poopies but seemed to accomplish what she required; the munstahs once again retreated beneath the closet door. Waste dripped down the closet door and puddled in the scorch marks that marred the soft green shag.

“NU HUWT FAMIWY!” she loudly and proudly reminded the orange munstahs.


Oh, happy day! Sorry peepees work almost as well as sorry poopies at defeating the burny-weggie munstahs! Imitating your mother, you turn your rump to the closet and burble pale liquid feces down your hind legs. It doesn't do much, but that isn't your fault: you're just a little baby!

Uh oh! The munstahs must have called in one of their toughie-friends, because the burny-weggie that just came out from under the door is bigger, thicker, and scarier than any of the others! This isn't good at all!

“Eeeeee!” you squeak. You're trying to say “Whatever shall you do to combat this new threat, Mother Dearest?” but all you manage is a peep and another bubble of sticky feces.


Lime watched his special friend crouch and narrow her eyes, glaring at the thick flame. Her peepees and poopies had been boiled and dried by the munstah, filling the air with the thick stench of roasted excrement. This was certainly a crafty one!

“Stoopi munstah!” she barked. “Bestest mummah NEVEW wet 'ou huwt famiwy!”

“Suuu bwave!” Lime breathed, amazed and a little scared of his special friend. This wasn't the first time her rage had left him wide-eyed and it wasn't the first time he'd wet himself because of it, but he'd never ever been more proud.

He wanted to take his place by her side, he really did, but he knew that he wasn't strong like Lemon. She was the one that protected their foals from the many Safe Room Munstahs that appeared. The tiny little many-legged munstahs that skittered from the wegister hadn't phased her, and the meow-munstah that liked to sit outside the window and gaze hungrily at the cowering fluffies always fled before her mighty stompies. (The wall still had stains from her furious poopies.) She wasn't even scared of the darky-times! And the darky-times were super scary!

And yet, the horrible Closet Munstah wasn't at all intimidated by his mate. It flickered, quivered, retreated and darted forward unpredictably. How could Lemon possibly defeat something so... strange? He snivelled, peed a little more, and covered his eyes with his hooves again.

“Wime scawed!” he sobbed. “Wime miss Wittew Mummah!”


Mighty anus flexing, Lemon roared in fury at the orange munstahs. She was out of ammunition. The entire corner of the saferoom was splattered with rancid fluffy shit but the munstahs were getting braver. They boiled and crackled and snarled along the floor in front of the closet, consuming the carpeting and spreading their evil fingers up the wallpaper.

Threads of flame raced across the floor towards her. Howling, remembering the freshly discovered agony of burny-hurties, she bravely reared up on her hind legs and brought her full weight crashing down on the munstah anyway.

“SCREEEEEEEE!” she howled as her sensitive hooves, already scorched, blistered anew. The pain was almost incomprehensible; she'd lived her entire life in soft luxury and never experienced anything but the mildest discomfort, let alone something as exquisite as this. The fluff around her ankles scorched and turned black and she could feel her delicate hoof pads split and bleed.

The orange munstah hadn't been defeated by her furious stompies, though. It had splattered sideways and formed new munstah puddles. Raising her hooves high, Lemon began rapidly stomping down on the fresh danger. Blood flew in wild sprays as the burned, taut skin of her legs tore wetly.

“NU HUWT FAMIWY!” she screamed, forcing herself to stomp harder.


Lime peeked out from behind his hoofsies and watched in horror as the munstahs bit into his special friend's weggie fluff. Her powerful stompies became less coordinated and more crazed as the munstahs ate their way up her legs and into her back. She rolled her head in agony and continued to crash down mightily onto the horrible creatures, foam flying from her muzzle, desperately trying to hold the line.

“Su scawy!” he whimpered, closing his eyes again and slipping a hoofsie into his mouth to suckle.

Engulfed in flame, Lemon's roars turned to anguished howls. She bucked and thrashed as she was consumed. The shit-spackled fluff around her anus caught fire and her eyes bulged in horror.

“POOOOPIE PWACE!” she yowled as she went blind. “POOPIE PWACE OWWWWWIES!”

Entire body contracting in fear, she found that her shit-locker wasn't quite as empty as she'd thought it was.

The “PBBBBRRRRT” of her flatulence blasted through the burning safe room, its thunder seeming without end. It caught fire with a soft “whump” and a brilliant blue flamethrower ignited from her rectum.

The burning methane tore up the length of her emission and barbecued the tender pink folds of her asshole. Howling, fully engulfed in agony and thrashing flames, Lemon's guts contracted once more and the torch thundering from her anus flared brightly. She twisted, rolled, and thrashed, her terrible Bunsen burner butthole spraying the room with flame.


Your name is Muffin, and you're on fire!

You don't know why, but your bestest mummah sprayed stinky-burnies at you and now you have all sorts of owwies! Your wittew hoofsies are being meanies and won't hold you up anymore! And now everything's dark! You can't run and play if you can't see!

“EEEEE!” you squeal. Burnies climb into your mouth and tear their way down your throat.! Now you can't breathe!

Oh nu! How is a talky babbeh like you supposed to learn new words if you can't talky them? What silly burny hurties! Your mummah's going to have to tell them to g


“NUUUU!” Lemon sobbed, yellow fluff almost completely incinerated and terrible blistering wounds splitting her raw flesh. “BAAAAAAABBEH!”

Still burning, completely blind, Lemon dragged herself by her destroyed hooves towards where she'd heard her perfect little yellow colt cry his pathetically short scream. When she found something small, soft, and smouldering, she knew by instinct that she'd found Muffin. She didn't know why he wasn't talking to her (he was a talky baby now! she remembered proudly), but she knew how to fix him right up.

“Huggies make evewyfing bettew!” she said reassuringly as her eyes boiled and dripped down her cheeks. One eyelid fell off and see-sawed to the floor lazily. Her silly little foal remained silent.

“Huuu, babbeh,” Lemon moaned. She would've cried if her tear ducts hadn't been cauterized. “Babbeh nee' miwkies? Mummah haf wots o' miwkies fo' babbeh, huuuu...”

She positioned Muffin against a smouldering milky-place. The cremated nipple dripped white nourishment from blackened flesh. She pressed her foal against it and whimpered when he didn't drink.

“Wemon hate meanie buwny-munstahs,” she sighed as the last of her saffron fluff caught fire. “Wemon hatechu suu much.”

Her roasted tongue popped like a pimple and filled her mouth with blood that she didn't have the energy to spit out. Fury still chuffing through her fat little body, she rested her head against Muffin's and went to the forever sleep.


“PWEASE nu huwties fwuffy!” Lime bawled, scooting himself away from the approaching flames.

What chance did he have? The orange munstahs had kiwwed his special friend and perfectest little colt, and he was just a fat, stupid fluffy. He didn't have his mate's power, her magnificent poopy-place, or her bravery. He was going to go forever-sleepies!

“Pweeeeease nu kiww fwuffy, munstahs!” he blubbered.

The munstahs paid him no attention. They danced, rolled, and threaded their way across the carpet towards him.

“Wime nu wan' fowebah-sweepies!” he begged.

He heard a soft cheep and realized that Cupcake had been hiding behind him.

“Babbeh!” he exclaimed. “Babbeh, make munstahs gu away!”

Tears rolling down her soft green muzzle, Cupcake could only squeak in fear.

“Huuuu huuu!” Lime sobbed. “Nu huwties gud fwuffy, munstahs! Fwuffy wiww be bestest fwiend if yu gu 'way!”

A tendril of flame flickered out and kissed his hoofsie. It left a black scorch on the leathery pad.

“EEP!” he howled, scooting further backwards. “NU HUWTIES!”

He felt his back thump against the wall of the safe room. Cupcake pressed tightly against him, shivering in terror.

“Huuu!” he bawled. “Wime wiww gif munstahs anyfing if gu 'way!”

The fire... paused. It spread its tendrils out towards other corners of the room, but came no closer to the two fluffies.

“'Gif anyfing!” Lime babbled. “Gif' munstahs toysies! Wime haf bestest baww dat munstahs can haf! An' bwockies! An'-”

A razor-thin thread of crimson whipcracked at the cowering fluffy. It vaporized the fluff on his cheek and left a blistered wound.

“EEEEEP!” he squeaked, pressing more tightly against the wall. The flames resumed their approach.

“NUUUU! Wiww gif' ANYFING! Wha' munstah wan'?!”

The orange tangle halted. A filament of red whispered out and inched towards the green fluffy.

“Nuuuu! Nu mowe huwties fo' fwuffy!”

Achingly slow, it changed direction and pointed to his left.

“Wha'?” Lime asked, confused. He looked to his left. There was nothing there besides his sobbing little filly!

... Oh.

“Pwease munstah, nu huwt babbeh!” he exclaimed.

The fire resumed its approach.

“Pwease? Gif toysies, gif beddie, gif... gif... anyfing bu' babbeh!”

The munstah didn't want something else, though. It reached for his little hoofsie and gave him another terrible kiss.

“EEEEEEE!” he squealed, but there was nowhere else to scoot.

“EEEEEEE!” he repeated, fresh tears dripping painful salt into his burned cheek. “If munstah wan' babbeh... Wime...”

Fresh sobs wracked his body.

“... Wime gif babbeh...”

He pressed his forehooves against Cupcake's heaving green flanks and lifted her.

“NU!” she squeaked. Discovering two new words, she wailed: “PEEEEZE NU, DADDEH!”

“Su sowwy babbeh,” he sobbed. “Daddeh wowstest daddeh evew.”

He set the filly down in front of the flames and covered his eyes with his hoofsies. He pinched his eyes shut as her mercifully short scream tore through the searing air.

After several forevers, when his tears had faded and sobs tapered off, he took his hooves from his eyes but kept them closed. The safe room was full of sounds he didn't recognize.

“M... Munstah?” he asked tentatively. Munstah did not respond.

“Munsta gu 'way? Weave Wime awone?”

When Munstah continued to remain silent, he slowly opened his soft brown eyes. What met them was beyond his comprehension.

The carpet was a mat of red and orange flames that writhed and coiled in constantly changing, rippling knots. The happy ducky wallpaper's playful imagery had crisped and vanished. Lime could see right through the wall in places, drywall, insulation, and exterior wall completely consumed. Stars glittered at him coldly from the night sky.

The room was completely engulfed in flame except for a small circle of unburnt carpet that surrounded him.

“Huuuuu!” he cried, sobbing wetly.

Inch by inch, the flames began to approach.

“NUUU!” he howled. “Wime aweady gif' babbeh! Haf nuffing else tu gif!”

The fire already knew that.

“Huuu hu!” he bawled. “Wime miss speshul fwiend! Miss babbehs! Miss Wittew Mummah!”

When the inferno touched his hide with its hot fury, he screamed again.


The flames darkened with something that could have been hunger and made their leap.


The orange munstahs were so terribly, terribly hot! His beautiful green fluff was turning all black and yucky! He'd never be able to run and play with his babbehs again if his hoofsies didn't stop getting owwies! His poopie pwace was broken from all the buwny-huwties and now there were munstahs numming his nu-nu stick! How was he supposed to have speshul huggies with his speshul fwiend and make even more perfect babbehs if they nummed it? Wemon would be suuu mad!

And what was that delicious smell?
Uploader Flufferk,
Tags author:flufferk brutal burny-hurties death explicit fire foals sadbox
Locked No
Parent None
Rating Unknown


- Reply
dont_ask: lol WOAH socool

- Reply
FluffyPuncher: Very nice.
- Reply
Vanguard: Ok, the fluffy flamethrower/shitcannon was a nice touch.

I wonder why no-one else thought of it before?
- Reply
Fluffus: Bravo!
- Reply
aoichan: @FluffyPuncher: The idea of a Fluffy's anus or shit being a fire/explosive hazard has quite a pedigree here. In fact, it resulted in the explosive (pardon the pun) climax to the Fall of Cleveland saga.
- Reply
aoichan: Oops. Sorry, that was meant for Vanguard.

- Reply
nails_gif_owwies: Awesome. Keep going.
- Reply
Bonerfiesta: The way you described Lemon's "battle" was superbly detailed and well-written. The frothing was a nice touch, the ass-blast doubly so.
- Reply
Anonymous1: Shit's on fire, yo! (this time quite literally).

Pretty good.

- Reply
Veej: I'm hungry for barbecue now! Well done! (Your story, and the fluffies)

Nice touch with the fluffy's superpower (shitting) buying it some time, then becoming its downfall by igniting a methane fart...leading to an internal combustion. So much Bravo~

- Reply
FluffiesAreFood: Did someone say BBQ Fluffy?
- Reply
UACMarine: @Vanguard: Well with an animal with a digestive system so terrible, one wonders if ISIS will use fluffies as suicide bomber bombs. eventually. The methane explosion would be more explosive and less expensive than real explosives and I'm sure Allah will throw in a couple extra virgins for being covered in fluffies for killing the American and Kurdish infidels.
- Reply
Flufferk: Thanks for the encouragement. I soak up compliments like a mildly alcoholic sponge, so feel free to shovel them in. (I'm utterly shameless.)
- Reply
Anonymous2: This is quite good.
- Reply
Flufferk: I'm still working on this story, but it's slow going.
- Reply
CwinicawDepwession: Keepin an eye out for more, if it's coming
- Reply
Flufferk: Fuck's sake, I last updated this *nine months ago*? And I thought I'd had writer's block during "Fluffy Depths."