TextDownloadMatt wasn’t a vet and didn’t know a huge about of fluffy physiology. The online guides and books he’d read gave him one important insight though; Pinkie was about to pop. She had been getting rounder and rounder over the course of the week, and by now she couldn’t move at all. Matt had been watching videos on fluffy birth to prepare him on what to do. He had also gotten a special cage for Pinkie, with its own food dish, water dispenser, and litter box, so she and her foals were isolated from the herd. This ensured they couldn’t be hurt, and also helped him separate the foals from their father, for some good old fashion psychological abuse for the stallion. Matt’s hunch had been correct and as he approached the pen, he saw Pinkie squirming in discomfort. “Pinkie, you alright?” He asked. “Yus daddeh. Pinkie tummeh babbehs just am pwayin.” She said happily. It was evident, however, that soon she would give birth. Matt really wanted to be there for it, to ensure nothing bad happened, but also wanted to see a newborn. Matt was sure she was going to give birth tonight, and so he lingered. Cleaning up spilled litter, refilling food and water dishes, even playing a bit with the fluffies. His patience paid off. “SCREE!!! Biggest poopies!” The pink mare screamed, her stubby legs flailing as she gasped in pain from the contractions. Matt reacted quickly. He grabbed the mare and lifted her onto his workbench. There was a shop sink next to the counter, and he’d laid out a towel he didn’t care about. Pinkie squirmed as her babies started to come. “It’s okay Pinkie! You’re having babies! You’re going to be a mommy!” She gasped. “Babbehs am cumin’!? Pinkie su happeh!” Another contraction hit her. “Huu babbeh gib huwties…” “Birth hurts, sweetie. Now daddy is here to help.” Pinkie nodded and breathed, tears flowing from her eyes. Matt slipped on some latex gloves as Pinkie instinctively pushed her rear up, exposing her vagina for birth. “D-daddeh! Biggest poopies!” As Pinkie pushed, she pissed and shit a bit, making a mess on the towel. “Nu! Daddeh! Pinkie am sowwy fo’ bad poopies and pee-pees!” “It’s okay Pinkie, this happens during birth,” Matt said as he used a warm wet washcloth to clean up the mess. Beside him was a bowl lined with a soft towel to put the foals in. Eventually, the first foal crowned. It was pink, like its mother, and had the little nubs that would eventually grow into wings. Matt lifted it up gently, and it made tiny little peeps and wiggled in his hand, enjoying the warmth. It reached out, nuzzling for his fingers and latched on, sucking for milk that wasn’t there. Matt had been distracted watching the little thing that he almost missed the next one. Placing Pinkie jr. in the bowl, Matt grabbed the second baby, a green unicorn. This one was more spirited than it’s sibling and wiggled around wildly looking for milk. There were four more babies; an all-black earthie, a dark blue pegasus, an earthie that was also pink, and another earthie – this one brown. Matt grimaced, knowing the green and brown foals may have a hard time. He really hoped not. Once all the foals were in their little bowl, Matt presented them to their exhausted but elated mother. “M-mummah hab… babbies! S-su happeh…” She panted, picking the first foal up and licking it clean. It was the pink pegasus, and it wiggled and peeped in joy at its mother’s touch. “Pwetty pink wingie-babbeh am bestest babbeh, mummah cwean fiwst.” It was as Matt feared. Pinkie had the same vile racism that he’d experienced so many times. Hopefully it was milder with Pinkie, or she’d accept her foals after seeing them all. After the pink pegasus was cleaned of fluids, she put her gently on her left teat. The baby immediately found the nipple and started to suckle the life-giving milk. Pinkie, meanwhile, looked at the bowl. Matt could hardly believe it, she was literally judging the starving babies. She had the look of someone trying to pick the best skittle from a bowl. Predictably, she grabbed the navy unicorn next, cleaning it and placing it next to its sister on the right teat. Next was the pink earthy, or as Pinkie called it “Pwetty nwingie babbeh.” After that was the black earthie her “Bwack nu-vewy speciaw babbeh.” And then, apparently, she was finished. “Uh, Pinkie?” Matt asked. “You still have two babies to clean and feed.” The green and brown foal peeped desperately, wiggling in their bowl and looking for their mother. “Siwwy daddeh. Dey am nu-pwetty poopie babbeh and nu-pwetty pointie babbeh. Mummah nu wan.” “But they’re your babies, Pinkie.” Matt said, trying to keep the anger from his voice. “You have to take care of them all.” “Nu!” Pinkie said, angrily puffing her cheeks. “Pinkie nu wan ugwe babbehs. Onwy wan pwetty babbehs.” Matt was furious. “Pinkie, either you feed your other foals, or I take away all your babies.” Pinkie puffed her cheeks up. “Meanie daddeh! Nu take babbehs ow mummah gib yu wowstest huwties!” The noise of their mother getting riled up caused her babies to unlatch from her teats and start to squirm and peep. “Fine Pinkie, we’ll play it your way.” Quickly, Matt scooped up all of Pinkie’s ‘good babies’ and began to walk towards the sink. “Wha-wha daddeh do!? Wawa nu gud fo’ fwuffies!?” She demanded, half angry half scared. “Those babies,” Matt said pointing at the green and brown foal, “deserve love and milkies too. Feed them, or I’ll feed your babies to the sink monster.” Pinkie’s eyes went wide with fear. She had just had the best babies ever and now her new daddy wanted her to feed her not-pretty babies too! Didn’t he know ugly babies were poopies and didn’t deserve love? He didn’t, and now he was threatening to kill your good babies and your bestest baby. “Nu! Nu gib babbehs fowevah-sweepies!” Pinkie begged. “Then feed your other foals.” Matt said. Pinkie hesitated. She looked over Matt’s shoulder, staring at Firework. “Bu… smawty say dat…” She said slowly, clearly working something out. “Smarty said what?” Matt asked, turning to see where Firework was in the pen. He was watching them with an intense stare. “What did you say to Pinkie, Firework?” “Fi-fiew-wowk nu say nufin…” The smarty said, fearfully backing away. “Oh really? Pinkie, what did Firework tell you?” “Nu! Fiew-wowk say nufing! Nufing!” Pinkie said, screaming. “Mummah feed foaws! Mummah be gud fwuffy!” With hesitation and visible disgust, the mare pulled her green unicorn foal towards her and began to clean it roughly. The newborn peeped and squirmed in discomfort at the harsh treatment but was quickly quieted when Pinkie placed it on her teat. She did the same with the brown foal, making a face of utter disgust as she did so. “Dewe… Pinkie nu-pwetty babbehs hab wickie-cweanies. Nao pwease daddeh gib Pinkie back gud babbehs! Nu gib tu sink-munstah!” “Okay Pinkie. You can have the rest of your babies back. But if I see you treating these two any differently, I’ll take all your babies away.” Matt said, earning himself a petrified squeak from Pinkie. “As for you, Firework, it seems we need to have a chat…” Matt turned on the smarty, who was backing up slowly. He remembered exactly how horribly scared Tangerine had been upon returning from the “sorry water” and had no desire to experience it himself. “Fiew-wowk du nufin’ wong…” He murmured. “Oh really? And what exactly did you tell Pinkie that made her want to reject her good foals? Hm?” Matt’s patience for this was wearing thin. While it was true he had captured the ferals to have easy access to victims, it still made him upset to see the innocent babies rejected by their mothers. It was made even worse knowing why he owned the three fluffies upstairs. “Fwuffy… teww soon-mummah dat… dat aww babbehs be gud… an’ dat aw babbehs am fo’ huggies an wuv!” Firework said. If his lie wasn’t unbelievable enough, that he took time to make it up on the spot made it less so. “Oh? And then why did she try to abandon her foals?” Matt smirked. He was going to win one way or another, which in retrospect wasn’t a particular feat of intelligence; it was about as satisfying at beating a toddler at chess. “Weww… fwuffy kno dat…” Firework said, thinking hard. “Dat Tangewine teww soon-mummahs dat poo-bwownie an’ gweenie babbehs am bad babbehs! Tangewine wan soon-mummahs to gib babbehs to Tangewine fo’ num!” “So, Tangerine told the moms that their ‘bad colored’ foals were bad so he could… eat them?” “Yesh! Tangewine am meanine dummeh fwuffie! Gib sowwy wawa!” Firework demanded. He looked back at the petrified herd with a confident and triumphant smile. It was clear that he thought throwing Tangerine under the bus again would work, and if it did it would prove to the herd that Matt would believe his word over theirs, giving him that much more control over the actions of the herd. It was a risky move, Matt thought. Shame that it would work so well. “Tangerine!” Matt called for the orange fluffy, who slunk forward shaking like a leaf. “Is this true!?” “N—nu! Nu am twue! Tangewine nu wan’ num babbehs! Aww babbesh am fo’ wuv an’ huggies an’ pway! Nu wan num babbehs Tangewine wuv all cowow babbeh!” “I’m sorry Tangerine but you know the rules. Bad and naughty fluffies go to the sorry water box!” “NUUU! TANGEWINE AM SU SOWWY! NU GIB BAD WAWA!!!” Tangerine screeched. Matt was concerned. He thought Tangerine might have understood his plan, but he would have to spell it out for him apparently. Chess with a toddler. “Sorry Tangerine, those are the rules. Thank you, Firework, for letting me know.” Matt picked Tangerine up, the fluffy going limp again, and carried him upstairs to the bathroom. Behind him, Matt heard the conspiratorial whispers of Firework and Aquamarine. They were trouble, and Matt would have to keep a better eye on them. Upstairs, Tangerine was gently crying again. “Tangerine, you can stop now.” “Huu… da-daddeh?” “Tangerine, I know you didn’t do anything bad.” Matt explained. “It’s just like last time – I know when Firework is lying.” “Daddeh nu fink Tangewine am meanie munstah?” “Of course not. I know Firework told the mares about their babies. Now, what did he say?” “Huu… Meanie Fiew-wowk caww babbehs ugwe cowow am bad babbeh! Say dat nu wan bad ugwe babbeh in hewd, an’ dat mummah shud nu gib babbeh miwkies o’ huggies o’ wuv… Fiew-wowk say dat wan poopie and ugwe babbesh gu foevah-sweepies!” “I see… so he still thinks it’s his herd, huh?” “Daddeh… pwease nu wet Fiew-wowk make babbehs gu fowevah-sweepies… dey jus’ wittew babbehs…” “I won’t. I’m going to make sure they’re all good to their babies.” In the house, Matt had to be careful that Arion and Chestnut didn’t see or hear Tangerine. He didn’t want to try to keep them out of the basement and from making “nyu fweinds.” Tangerine liked baths, evident by his gentle cooing as warm water coursed over his fur. Sometimes he even splashed around, giggling at the waves he made. Matt took extra care around his scars, as even the lightest touch to them made Tangerine tense up. “Tangerine?” Matt asked when the fluffy was comfortably wrapped in a soft towel. He had snuggled into Matt’s hold and was clearly on the verge of sleep. “Yesh daddeh?” “How did your old daddy treat you?” Tangerine shuddered, and closed his eyes. It was clearly a topic he didn’t like to revisit. “Tangewine was wittew babbeh at big housie stowe. Wots of babbehs, aww dancie fo’ nyu daddeh o’ mummah. Tangewine take fwom mummah when jus’ wittew chiwpy babbeh, so nu ‘membew mummah. “Daddeh pick Tangewine at stowe. Was su happy! Daddeh gib nyu housie and toysies an’ bestest nummies! Tangewine fink dat be foevah-daddeh and wive in housie foevah… “But daddeh was munstah. One bwight-time… Daddeh come fo’ Tangewine, and gib wowstest huwties… Tangewine get sowwy stick fo’ many fowevahs… fwuff was nu pwetty, wots of boo-boo juice. “Tangewine nu ‘membew fo’ how wong, bu’ daddeh gib Tangewine wowstest huwties fo’ many bwight-times, an’ sometime gib sowwy box fo’ many fowevahs, untiw Tangewine had wowstest tummy huwties an’ wan gu fowevah-sweepies. Tangewine wan die.” Tangerine was quiet for a while. Matt didn’t want to rush him, or force him to say more than he was willing to. “Tangewine get wucky.” He continued, “One day, daddeh vewy mad. Nu kno why, bu’ daddeh make wots of screamies an’ scawy noisies. Take Tangewine owtside and put fwuffy in shiny metaw sowwy box wif’ twashy nummies. “Smawty heaw Tangewine in twashy box and gib box sowwy-hoofsies, and Tangewine faww but get out! Den Tagewine join hewd.” “So your owner just… threw you away? That’s awful.” Matt hugged Tangerine a little more. “I’m sorry Tangerine.” “Fank yu daddeh. Tangewine nu wike ‘membew bad times. Gib Tangewine wowstest heawt-huwties. Bu’ Tangewine am su happeh nao! Hab gud daddeh an’ nice housie. Tangewine happeh nao.” Eventually, it was time for Matt to return Tangerine to the pen in the basement. It was sad for both of them, and Matt decided that once the other ferals were out of the way and the foals were his, Tangerine would be coming upstairs. Matt was sure Arion would adore him. As Matt got downstairs, he knew something was wrong. Tangerine tensed up and started to smell the air, and then began wiggling. “Nu! Nu! Wet Tangewine gu! Nu faiw!” He said panciking. “Calm down Tangerine!” Matt reached the pen and heard a heart-wrenching noise – the weak peeps of a dying foal. Firework’s hooves were clearly stained in blood, and the two ‘ugly babies,’ the green and brown foals, had been horribly trampled. The brown foal had actually been the lucky one it seemed. Its head had been flattened fully, its tiny unopened eyes had been smeared into paste. Its soft skull had been crushed like an eggshell and its brains were spilled all over. Each of its legs had been broken as well, and now they all bent in awful directions. The green baby, a colt, wasn’t so lucky. It wheezed and gasped with a wide open mouth. His chest had been badly flattened and his lungs were clearly unable supply him with enough air. His horn had been ripped clean off, and judging by the way his legs stuck out at strange angles, those had been stomped on too. Matt was sure the poor creature would have been screaming at the top of its lungs if it were able to. Matt scooped the small foal up, trying to ignore its wiggling in pain as he did. He briefly considered trying to take the baby to the vet at Fluff-Mart, but abandoned the thought as the colt coughed blood and shuddered. Sighing, Matt snapped its neck, and the foal fell still. Tangerine was staring at the dead brown foal from through the fence. “Huu huu… wittew babbeh take fowevah-sweepies… tu wittew fo’ nu-wakey...” “Tangerine, I’m sorry.” Matt said, placing the dead green foal on the workbench. He scooped the wreckage of the brown foal out of the pen and put Tangerine back inside. He sadly looked at the bloodstain and wept. “I will be right back, and then I’ll deal with you.” Matt said to Firework. The smarty bowed his head and backed up. “And you.” Matt said, sneering at Pinkie. The mare hugged her ‘good babies’ to her chest and avoided his gaze. Taking the bodies of the foals upstairs, Matt quickly decided to throw them away in the outside bins. The last thing he needed was for his fluffies to see him with the crushed bodies of some babies. That wouldn’t go over well. Matt dropped the bodies in the bin. It was actually kind of sad. He knew that he had brought the ferals in specifically to torture most of them, but there was still something sad about the way these mothers had abandoned their own children, and even how they had let another fluffy harm them. It filled Matt with a new kind of anger. Heading back inside, he peeked his head into the safe-room. Arion was playing with Chestnut and her baby. The small foal was still young and hadn’t opened its eyes, but Chestnut enjoyed playing ball with Arion while curled around her baby. She gently batted it back to Arion and whispered sweet nothings to her baby, who gently cooed and nuzzled his mother. Tomorrow they would go to the vet, and Matt hoped they were all okay. A soon as he got downstairs, Matt knew something was wrong. It was deathly quiet. Way too quiet for fluffies, that was sure. When he opened the second door to the basement, the smell hit him – fresh blood. Matt rushed to the pen, and his heart sank. Tangerine was in the middle of the pen, and Firework was smashing his hooves against his head, trying to kill the fluffy. The rest of the heard stood against the pen walls, silently watching as Firework only grunted slightly, rearing up and down and trying to kill Tangerine. “Stop! Stop you fucking monster!” Matt said, rushing at the smarty. He lunged over the pen’s enclosure and kicked Firework as hard as he could, sending the fluffy side-first into the concrete wall. There was a sick crack as something inside Firework audibly broke, earning Matt a squeal of pain. Matt didn’t care right now; Tangerine was his first priority. “Haa.. haa…” Tangerine wheezed gently. His ribs were all broken and his thighs had been snapped. “Daddeh… Tangewine… am… su… sowwy...” Talking was obviously difficult for him, and blood leaked steadily from his mouth. “Twy… pwotect… babbehs… nu… can… Tangewine… am… bad...” “No, no you’re a really really good fluffy Tangerine. Hang on, I’m going to get you help.” Matt said, scooping Tangerine up as quickly and gently as he could. Tangerine wheezed in protest, but didn’t wiggle. Either because he couldn’t or knew Matt was helping. Matt wrapped him in a towel and put the fluffy in one of the cat carries he had lying around. Quickly, he rushed into the garage and put the fluffy inside. He ran back into the safe room. “Arion, Chestnut? Daddy has to go out really fast. Be good fluffies and I’ll be right back okay?” Arion immediately knew something was wrong. “Daddeh? Am otay?” He said, standing up nervously. “Daddy is fine. I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” Matt said, gently stroking Arion’s fluff. “O-otay daddeh...” Arion said, returning to Chestnut. Matt smiled at them, and gave Chestnut a little pat too before returning to the garage. He double checked all the doors to the basement and safe-room before he left. He hoped he wasn’t too late. * * * Matt was driving fast, a little faster than he was comfortable with, trying to get to Fluff-Mart in record time. He could still hear the wheezing and gently coughs of Tangerine in the back, and told himself that was good because it meant the fluffy was still alive. Screeching into Fluff-Mart, Matt grabbed the carrier and ran into the store, straight for the in-house vet. “I need to see Dr. Tiffany, it’s an emergency.” Matt said to the receptionist. “Sure, give me a second.” the man said. Moments later, Tiffany came out. “Matt? What’s wrong?” “I have a fluffy who was really badly hurt by his herd. Can you save him?” Matt asked desperately, putting the carrier on the counter. “Gimme a look.” Tiffany said, opening it. Immediately, she knew the fluffy had slim chances of survival. “I need another set of hands, stat.” She said to the receptionist before picking up the fluffy and turning to go into the back room. “Matt, stay here. I’ll call you when your fluffy -uh...” “Tangerine.” “When Tangerine is ready to see you.” And then she left, Tangerine in her arms. * * * Matt was sitting in the waiting area, fidgeting horribly. Fluff-Mart was filled with small kids and their parents, some looking for new fluffies, some getting toys for old fluffies. He saw a little girl cuddling with a cute little pink and purple fluffy looking for a plastic fluffy doll house, and a boy with a small red and black fluffy looking for a fluffy-friendly RC car. It warmed his heart, but also made him increasingly worried about Tangerine. He was conflicted – on one hand he wanted to take Tangerine home and introduce him to Chestnut and Arion, let him play and be loved; on the other he wanted to take the fluffies that had harmed him and slowly strip their skin off before rolling them in a bowl of salt. “Matt?” Matt stood up. Tiffany stood by the counter, ushering him towards her. “Tangerine is he-” “Come with me, Matt.” Her tone was grave. It didn’t ease any of Matt’s worry. She led him behind the counter and inside the operating area. Matt passed rows of fluffies in roomy cages, each with a small clipboard detailing important information and the upcoming procedure. Most were here for simple things, neutering or minor surgeries, but a couple had more severe procedures on their charts, things like “pillowing” or “gastric bypass” were scribbled on a few of them. Matt followed Tiffany until she stopped at a door. “Okay. Tangerine is in there but… well he’s not going to make it.” “No… T-there must be something you can do!” Matt demanded. “Matt.” Her voice was gentle, but absolute. “He’s really beat up. Fluffies aren’t the most durable of creatures and he’s in really rough shape. There’s tons of internal bleeding, lots of organ damage. We sedated him and did what we could but… he’s fading fast. I wanted to give you the chance to say goodbye.” “He’s- There’s no chance?” “No. He’s going to die. You can either say goodbye and see him off, or let him die alone. I think you’d prefer the former.” “Y… yeah.” “Okay. C’mon in. It’s time to say goodbye.” Tiffany opened the door, and led Matt into the operating room. Tangerine lay on his side, under a blanket, on a stainless steel table. There was an IV in his side, and his eyes were slightly unfocused due to painkillers. “D… daddeh? Daddeh am back fo’ Tangewine… nu am bad fwuffy?” “Oh Tangerine… no, you’re a great fluffy. You were so good.” Matt said. He tried very hard to keep his voice even. “Bu’… Tangewine nu can sabe wittle babbehs… smawty gib fowevah-sweepies.” “It’s not your fault, Tangerine. It’s mine. I should have been watching them. I- I should have been watching you. It’s my fault this happened.” “Nu!” Tangerine said, wiggling slightly. “Nu am bad daddeh. Am bestest daddeh. Gib Tangewine pwetty name an’ best nummies an’ wuv. Bestest daddeh… make Tangewine su happeh.” “That makes me happy. I really love you Tangerine.” “Daddeh wuv Tangewine? Dat am make su happeh...” Tangerine was fading. Matt knew it. “Daddeh? Tangewine am sweepy… am scawed. Nu wan go fowevah-sweepies! Daddeh pwease hewp fwuffy… nu wan die...” He started to cry. “You’re not gonna die buddy,” Matt lied. “You’re just taking a nap okay? When we get home I’m going to make you a big bowl of sketti, just for you. Okay?” “Sketti? Daddeh am… bestsest daddeh… su happeh… Tangewine wuv daddeh...” “I love you too Tangerine...” A soft shudder escaped the fluffy and Matt knew he was gone. His eyes glassed over and he stopped even his slight movement. “Matt… I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to lose a fluffy...” Tiffany said. She gently stroked his back. It made him feel a bit better. “Do… you want us to cremate him?” “Uh. Yes. That would be… uh, yeah.” Matt said. He was still looking at Tangerine’s body. It was awful, seeing the scarred fluffy dead on the table. If he’d been smarter, realized that the ferals couldn’t be trusted, realized they’d turn on Tangerine. If only. “I’ll call you when the ashes are ready, Matt. Go home. Get some rest, okay?” Tiffany slipped her card into the breast pocket of his shirt. “Call me if you need anything, okay?” “Okay. Thank you, Tiff.” “Of course.” * * * The drive home was quiet. Matt didn’t want to listen to the radio, and he drove slowly. He was still numb when he walked through the door and into the safe-room. Arion and Chestnut were sleeping in a small fluff pile with Chestnut’s baby between them. At the sound of the safe-room door opening, Arion woke up. “Daddeh?” He said, quietly. He stood up carefully so as not to wake Chestnut or her baby. “Arion. It’s good to see you.” Matt said. The fluffy was an immense comfort right now. “I missed you.” “Awion miss daddeh tu. Am… am daddeh otay?” “No.” Matt said, being honest. “Daddy’s had a bad day.” Arion rubbed against Matt’s leg. “Dat am otay. Aw bwight-time can nu be gud.” “You’re right buddy.” Matt said, smiling at the fluffy’s sage words. “Hey, wanna watch some TV?” “Yesh. Awion wuv teebee. Daddeh wach wif Awion?” “Yeah buddy. C’mon.” Matt lifted Arion up, and brought him to the couch. Matt laid down, putting on some Loony Tunes, and plopped Arion on his chest. The fluffy was warm, and Matt found comfort in stroking the mane of Arion. It was comforting, and helped to fill the numb pit the death of Tangerine had created. Matt still felt the pang of guilt and sorrow, but stroking Arion’s mane helped to ease the pain. In its absence, Matt only felt rage. Rage to the fluffies that had killed their innocent young, who had killed Tangerine. He calmed himself, knowing those fluffies would get what was coming to them. Matt would be the vengeance they so painfully deserved. Uploader Draytini, January 11, 2020; 20:05 Tags abuse artist:draytini birth fluffy_dies foal_dies impending_abuse making_a_monster poopie_baby sadbox ugly_baby Source www.fluffybooru.com/post/view/55420#search=user_id%3D5919 Locked No Parent None Rating Unknown Comments January 11, 2020; 20:35 - Reply Anonymous1: Fucking Firework. Let him have a painful, horrifying death. January 11, 2020; 20:46 - Reply Draytini: @Anonymous: Well, great minds think alike ;) January 12, 2020; 03:40 - Reply Anonymous2: Firework must suffer. Drown the foals so he has to hear the wails of the mothers, RIP a leg off with the death of each foal. January 12, 2020; 03:56 - Reply Anonymous3: fIreWORk mUsT suFfEr January 12, 2020; 05:43 - Reply Dunderbolts: Tangerine must be avenged. I genuinely felt bad for him, and am thankful he at least went peacefully. No sympathy for the impending doom of Firework...he can go enf himself January 12, 2020; 09:24 - Reply JustATopHatKid: welp this is the first time I cried about a fluffy. FIREWORK DEATH WILL BE SLOW AND VERY PAINFUL January 12, 2020; 11:54 - Reply Anonymous4: Grab a sledgehammer and bring it down to Firework's face and keep doing it over and over January 12, 2020; 11:54 - Reply Anonymous5: Grab a sledgehammer and bring it down to Firework's face and keep doing it over and over January 12, 2020; 12:05 - Reply Genosse_Eiche: Tangerine was a good fluffy, kind and loving. He must be avenged. The torment of Fireworks must be unimaginable and endless. January 12, 2020; 15:05 - Reply Anonymous6: Someone with decent art talent! We need a 'Justice fow Tangewene!' Image...or to be meme lords- no-no sticks out for tangewene! January 12, 2020; 15:18 - Reply Anonymous7: Have fire work eat his own shit, break all his legs as well, smash his dick and balls, then force candy to eat her remaining babies, then Break her legs and as they hit the ‘wan die’ loop let them die, slowly, painfully. And as for the remaining fluffs, force them to watch, show them what happens when they are bad fluffies January 12, 2020; 15:19 - Reply JimProfit: RIP Tangerine. You were a good fluffy. January 13, 2020; 05:43 - Reply Mumsie: May I make a suggestion? Have you considered giving this story a title? It may be wise to do so, in case you make another story in the future. I would also suggest numbering the entries for this story so people know where it starts and ends. Besides that its great keep it up! January 13, 2020; 07:09 - Reply Anonymous8: @Mumsie: Funny enough... It does have a title lol. I didn't realize the first time I uploaded that you couldn't title pieces in site and they had to be part of the doc. It's officially called "Making A Monster" January 13, 2020; 08:33 - Reply Draytini: I am anon #8... didn't realize I wasn't logged in. January 14, 2020; 11:29 - Reply Anonymous9: Allow me to explain my feelings in fluffyspeak. Ahem. Cwusify Fiwewowk on da waww, an stapwe his bawws an no no stick to his poopie pwace.