tagme tagyourownshit


Flufficide: Flavour of the weak

Foie gras is an expensive food sure. It’s not something you’d expect on an everyday plate. Certainly a connoisseur's choice. But tastes change after all.

It’s basically duck liver or goose liver made into a pate and served with crackers. But how do they make it?


The duck or the goose is force fed through a metal pipe 3x a day. The pipe is fed down their throats. They’re fed a lot.

Those that survive are processed and their livers removed to produce the Foie gras. Those that don’t are simply binned. It is very rare that they’re not treated cruelly.

Do you also know Foie gras is banned from production in a lot of countries? It’s banned in California too.

It’s also a public health risk.

Over feeding leads to the livers becoming enlarged, becoming diseased.

Which is exactly what the producers want.

Foie gras is essentially made from diseased liver. No wonder it’s banned. It can also cause diseases in humans too.

But it’s considered a delicacy. And it’s an expensive choice. But people still like it. Developed a taste for it too since it became popular.

Enter the cheap option. Fluffies, especially foals.

A new product was launched, a more cost effective Foie gras called Foal Gras.

Pretty much made in the same way, the goals are force fed a lot to enlarge their livers. Metal pipes are permanently down their throats.

Even if they die during the process, their livers are cut out immediately. If a duck or goose died it would be discarded. There is always no waste with a fluffy. Every part is processed and used.

But ducks and geese are actual animals and have rights you say, we can do whatever we want with a fluffy. They’re produce, meat waiting to be used.

But where the health of the public is concerned, the production of foal gras had to be regulated.

Rules had to be put in place to ensure only the best quality foal gras hit the market. Places that made Foal Gras had to follow them.

Illegal fluffy mills however, didn’t bother to follow these rules.

Poor quality foal gras had caused an increase in a disease in humans called secondary amyloidosis as well as other nasty infections.

And so it was reported in the city, there was a big uptick in a number of these cases.

People had been ordering it at restaurants. The restaurants had not been following the rules either and had bought from a fluffy mill with the foal gras already processed.

It was a huge mistake. Many of the businesses closed and restaurateurs were taken to court. But that is another story.

Carter and Louie were following a lead.

A call had come in that there was mounds of fluffy crap just dumped outside. The smell was unbearable but there was no fluffies around. All the tell tale signs of an illegal fluffy mill. And not a well run one either.

Carter himself had experience with this. He had ran one in college. Selling poor quality fluffies grown in the frat house’s basement.

His daddy hadn’t given him spends and he had to make quick cash.

Fluffy mills can be set up easily. The bare minimum you need is a group of fluffies, but one has to be a grown mare and stallion.

Everything else is extra.

As a result, you could pluck a few from the street and before you know it you have an amateur set up.

It’s that easy. They breed and breed and before you know it you have your own farm of fluffies. Ready to do whatever the fuck you want to them.

This was ancient history to Carter now. Well, he wanted it to be. It wasn’t really that long ago in college but he had been broke for a year before he took this job.

He had no love for fluffies but after the court case he couldn’t bear them. He hadn’t been declaring his income to the IRS. Everyone in his frat hated the things. It was a fun prank to tie burning tissue to one and make it run. Amongst other pranks.

No one gave a fuck about the fluffies.

His dad managed to bail him out of serious trouble. The fluffies that were sold were of such poor quality, many were dead within weeks of selling. Their intelligence (lack of) had caused them to get into enough trouble to kill themselves off.

He began to blame the fluffies for his problems. His dad decided to cut him off, the scandal was damaging enough considering the family had shares in a Hugbox company.

Life’s great equaliser is stupidity.

And then he had to take the job as exterminator. Carter did not want the job but thought he’d have fun torturing the things. That was Carter’s year. He hadn’t spoken to his mom or sisters and bro. So this is excommunication.

But boy was the guy he was assigned with a stiff. Louie was a pretty by-the-book guy but little else about him suggested anything passionate or anything he loved.

A pretty typical wet blanket. But he knew his job and it showed his dad he wasn’t going to slack off either.

He’d be back at the Hamptons on vacation before they knew it. It had been 3 years since he last seen the place. God knows what embarrassing shit mom would do but it was fun.

“It smells so bad here. Fucking hell is it always like this?”

“Well rich kid after a while it kind of lingers on you, lives up your nose and you get used to it. I’m pretty sure I’m brain damaged from it but it’s part of the job I guess”

Carter put his fingers on his nose and looked away from the mound of fluffy crap. He saw bits of food and other crap within the crap. He was glad he wouldn’t be doing this forever.

The police had been before and busted the place open. They made two arrests on public hygiene and health standards being broken as well as pollution laws. Carter knew one of the guys who got jailed.

Pictures were taken of the cess outside and the conditions inside. All that was left now was the fluffies. That was the exterminators job to sort that shit out.

“Hey!!! You assholes had better not harm them fluffies!!! They’s my property now!!”

An oldish guy had interrupted them.

“Please sir can you tell me who the fuck you are again? I don’t recall you telling me first time” Carter replied.

“Well I own this here building and the two assholes who were running a shitrat farm didn’t pay me a buck in rent. They’s mine and my property now and I won’t let you take away my hard earned buck”

“Sir, you’re full of shit”, Carter wasn’t impressed. This enraged the oldish guy. He went straight towards Carter to punch his throat. Louie intervened.

“Sir I apologise for my colleague’s conduct. I’m his boss and I’ll speak to him later about it”

“Well you had fucking better and you had better get away from my property!!!”

Louie remained calm. He motioned to Carter to back off, he could tell he was pissed off.

“Sir I don’t believe you understand the gravity of the situation. We’re here to remove diseased and infected fluffies from your property. The guys you rented to broke a lot of food safety laws and we have to protect the health of the public.”

“And what’s that got to do with me?”

“It’s on your property. They could be questioned and say you allowed it to happen and that you allowed them to breed fluffies in unhygienic and dangerous conditions. If a person dies from something that’s been eaten that’s came from your property, that could make you liable to be sued too. Or jailed.”


“Also it’s possible the fluffies carry a contagion that can spread to humans. We’re wearing protective suits but anyone else who isn’t trained might be putting their own health at risk. We need to rid the building of them to stop these infections getting out of hand.”

The oldish guy turned white. He’d been inside numerous times. Even today. He’d even sampled some of the food being prepared. He felt like he’d been fooled. Contagion? Like what? His daughter back home was vulnerable, what if I’ve passed something to her? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He thought fucking shitrats, what do you do with them? He wished he never gave that kid the keys. His blind eye turned to this? How had he let them get away with this? Why? They didn’t even give him that much money, the building hadn’t been used in a while. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What am I going to do?

“Please go right inside.” The oldish guy looked pretty meek now.

“Thank you sir, bring the stuff in Carter. Bring a face mask too.”

Outside smelt better. The wind could take the smell away. In here, no breeze and the walls yellowed. Probably from the smell. The face mask didn’t help but it felt difficult to breathe through the nose. Just as well neither man got a full lung of that bad fecal air.

They followed the sound of fluffies. There was barely a chirp. But there was also a lullaby playing. A calming lull of a lullaby. The place was dark, it smelt awful and it felt just like something from a horror movie. Without the sound of fluffy chatter, this place would’ve been an unsettling place to enter.

Carter had peered through the door. There they are. He opened the door up and Louie entered. It was a truly depressing and fetid room. Not one thing could have been happy in here.

There were mares in this room. Pillowed. Covered in crap. No foals. Their mouths had been soldered and sealed with a tube. No talking, only murmurs. To get the foals fat, the milk needed to be enriched. Mares were overfed to produce a highly fattening milk for their foals. To fatten them up. And their livers.

Massive piles of crap were behind each mare. All obese by fluffy standards.

“Gu way dummeh!! Dis am smawty wand!! Gib smawty nummies!!”

Ahhh, this is the sound of the chatter. A smarty had been distracted from raping an unsuspecting mare. He must have been about the room, blood had covered their vaginal areas indicating some had miscarried. You could clearly see entrails in the bloodied stool.

He must have been the only male adult here. His diseased looking cock seeped out a disgusting miasma. Blood and shit coated it and it was semi-erect. His mouth could barely swallow saliva, drooling and foaming in places. His eyes were beginning to derp too. Oversexed fluffies suffer brain damage from breathing difficulties. The more they’re active, the less their breathing can keep up and their brains become starved of nutrient and air rich blood.

“Just deal with it humanely and cleanly please Carter”


Carter approached the smarty.

“Giv smawtie nummies Dummeh!! Nao!! Or get poopies”

Carter resisted crushing his skull there and then. He pulled out a plastic bag.

“I got your nummies here in this bag”

“Weawwy mistah Weawwy gib-“

Carter pulled the bag over the smarty’s head and suffocated him. The dry huffs in the bag became longer and drawn out. He crapped and crapped. And then did a final crap. Not exactly clean but he didn’t butcher the guy.

“What do we do with the mares?”

“Nothing yet Carter, I’ve had a look around. I’ve found the uh processing room. Don’t go in there. And I’ve found the foals too. I’ll show you and I’ll assess what to do”

Both men walked through the door. The sound of the lullaby cane from inside the room. The foals in here were just like the mares outside. Milk pumps and empty tins of artificial foal milk littered the room. There were a lot of those cans outside too. Milk was treated before given to the foals.

Not only had the foal needed to be fattened, their livers needed to be enlarged too to make the foal gras.

An instruction and how to was printed and left on a table. The room had been covered with a children’s wallpaper now peeling and decaying. Seeing Humpty Dumpty and smiling sheep smile at you was just creepy as fuck in here.

None of the foals had legs. All of them were attached to feeding tubes attached to their mouths. Sealed with a soldering iron. Their eyes shown a scared look, tears, they hadn’t known happiness. They were just like their mothers. There must have been a 100 or so foals in here. On shelves and their crap falling behind the shelf. Pooping on Bo Peeps face. Scotch tape had kept them in place. It wasn’t hard.

Inside that room were 3 small bins. Number one was for their fur. “Finished and fattened” foals were skinned. Number 2 held their naked, skinned, bloodied carcasses. Number 3, well this is how they gathered what they needed for foal gras. Foal livers were cut out of their bodies and then thrown in here, waiting to be taken into the next room to be processed. Such a niche and nasty operation. Their diseased livers the essential ingredient to make foal gras ready for order to whoever wanted it.

Carter recalled his mom and dad loved foie gras. Carter could no longer see the attraction. This room was repulsive. Louie flicked the switch off the lullaby machine. The murmurs of the crying foals could be heard now.

“That song was too creepy”

Carter nodded in agreement. He felt sickened to his stomach. This job was definitely not what he expected, there was no fun to be had in it. What happened to butchering these bastards?!

“The room looks well sealed but those mares can’t be moved as easily as these guys can. We’re going to bring the foals into the other room. Seal it. Gas it. And then take them downstairs to throw them in the back of the truck.”

Carter and Louie began to remove the foals from the shelves. Peeling them from the shelves was painful to the foals. Patches of fur remained. The foals had gasped for breath, now breathing through the tubes.

Carter had picked one up and it looked him in the eye. It’s sad eye looked into his. What a pitiful thing. Why did he hate these things again?

Carter remembered that his mom wasn’t very fond of them. Unclean creatures, they shit everywhere and salt the earth they walk on. Their garden had been invaded by a lot of ferals. That was their type of neighbourhood, fluffies lived in the fields close by.

And then in college, everyone talked about abusing these things in outlandish ways. Usually in front of their mothers. A friend had said he loved to hear the pain of a fluffies voice. It always sounded constant but so final too.

Carter of course hated them for his criminal charge. But these things wouldn’t have wanted this life. Who would? But they had no choice here, they’re not made to feel. We are. And we’ll do what we feel with them. Carter looked around the room, this was really squalid. Had he left one behind like this?

The foal trembled in Carter’s hand. It’s life in his hands now. I could crush you, kill you instantly, why bother doing anymore than that? Your pain will be awful and then over.

And then he began to stroke it with his finger. The foal trembles began to stop. He wouldn’t live much longer, but at least it wasn’t hurting in its final moments.

Humanely huh?

The foals were placed in the room with the mares who had began to tremble and let out frightened muffles too. They could finally see their babies and what they had become.

The foals didn’t react. Their eyes had simply closed. Whistles from the tubes indicated their peeps and chirps.

They were placed close to their mothers in parts that had not filled with crap. As revenge for its petulance, Carter had left the smarty’s body in mare shit. Nothing like pettiness towards a fluffy.

The gas entered the room now. The fluffies began to close their eyes. So sleepies. The anxiety and the trembling began to ease. Stop. It didn’t matter now. Sleepies. They couldn’t feel a thing anymore.

“I noticed you were pretty quiet today after that encounter today with that landlord.” Louie had observed his partner all day, finally away from the job and after the fluffies were recycled they could enjoy a drink.

“It was a big job. I just feel pretty tired.” Carter half committed the answer.

“Rich kid, you weren’t as boisterous on the job today. You actually didn’t do any dumb crap! You followed me to a tee. I think you'll make a good exterminator after all” Louie took a sip on his beer. And checked his watch.

“I think you understand why I say to you to do what we do humanely now right?”

“..........yeah. Yeah I do. Because being too brutal just feels..........tiring. That was genuinely fucking depressing. I thought this job would be fun but-“

“The fun wears off after you’ve killed what? Fifth? Tenth? Hundredth? I’ve killed more than fluffies. I’ve killed bugs, cats, dogs, rats, all vermin gone. Killing them cleanly is easier on the conscience but I don’t look at it as that.”

Carter looked up from his drink, “so what do you call it?”

Louie took a longer gulp on his drink, “we provide an essential service. We clean up the streets, today we removed fluffies that could harm humans and maybe themselves. We did it cleanly. We stopped their suffering. They’re not animals sure but it’s not exactly good for the conscience wiping them away brutally is it? We do it cleanly, we let them die with some dignity, they’re recycled back into the system. Job done.”

Carter smiled a little. “Well, I’ll certainly be telling my mom about the perils of substitute foie gras. I think today would put her off for life. She loves the stuff. By the way, we recycle those fluffies. Where do they go after we drop the truck off?”

Louie wanted to laugh, he could feel it on the tip of his tongue “best not ask that one kid, you want to eat food as normal right?”
Uploader Captain_Emo,
Tags tagme tagyourownshit
Locked No
Parent None
Rating Unknown


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Anonymous1: I love these exterminator stories. Pretty good so far.
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Captain_Emo: @Anonymous: glad you enjoy :-) there’ll definitely be more to come and a lot of what I write tends to be sporadic. I’ve just done a story about a Hugboxer serial killer