The World Exploded

W Mon 05 Sep 2016 10:05:22 No.702587143 | /b/
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>it really fucks you up thinking about how Cambodians used to have shooting ranges with actual livestock on them as targets
>you appreciate a good steak like any red blooded patriot out there
>but there's a line you don't cross with an animal's dignity dammit
>"You still insulting Cambodian people in your head?" your wife asks impatiently
>WellIWouldn'tExactlyCallEmPeople
>"No sweetie, just...thinkin diplomatic thoughts about em is all" you reply lamely, accepting the offered AR-15
>not the most entertaining shot, but you just got to the range and want to warm up with something reliable
>"Well hurry it up, we're gettin' ready to go here"
>you try to ignore the sway of her hips as you follow her to the table where your two kids are milling about
>only ogle one sort of equipment at a time, your old man used to say
>yeah, he was full of specific advice like that..
>the kids are checking out their ordinance, a great big M2HB
>you got them $400 worth of ammo to shoot because you're a great dad
>"Alrighty everybody, are you all here and ready to get started?" the attendant asks for the millionth time
>you're a responsible gun owner but these guys and their safety checks sometimes..
>"Great, well you're in luck today - we just got a mega-herd in and they'll be wandering past the treeline any second now"
>these guys run a pretty sick double-business model
>people are so desperate to get fluffy herds off their farmland they pay to have them shipped away
>as one of the few organizations that takes them, the range turns around and sets them right up in the field just before the forest backstop
>even now you can see the rainbow starting to shuffle out
>"Dad! I see 'em!" your daughter confirms just after
>she's finally old enough to wear a shooters badge
>"You kids ready to have some fun?"
>you dramatically slide the action on your gun - admittedly wasting a bullet in the process
>you don't care, you'll pay for it, but money just can't buy that satisfaction
***
>"Peshuw fwen!" your mate calls to you from the cloud of rolling soon-mothers
>she's a pretty, white fluffed affair, and a rather fierce nest-partner hiding behind a charming smile and experience to share with the newer mothers
>it's a surge of prideful warmth to reflect that that experience comes from the number of times you bred the little minx yourself
>yes indeed, life is good at the top
>surrounded by your kin and your own, who form the web of your vast fluffy empire
>there are more fluffies than you think there are ones to count them with
>many of whom are from smaller herds you drove to submission and assimilated with your iron hoof
>"Peshuw fweeeeeeeen!!" your mate calls again, an impatient whine to her voice
>not now woman, you're busy
>yes you must have overcome countless obstacles at this point to reach the success you have
>not the least of which was yelling at the humans who put you in the roaring crates until they brought you to these greener pastures
>already the herd has begun grazing in this idyllic field
>the soon-mothers will eat well tonight, and that brings happiness to you
>any good, honest fluffy couldn't help love the sight of new life brought into the world
>your enemies are conquered and your herd swells and thrives
>that is best in life
>"PESHUW FW-OOMPH!" you put your hoof over your mate's mouth before she can finish screaming in your face
>you don't trifle with that whore shit
>"Yes speshaw fwend?" you ask once you're good and ready
>"Pwah! Smawty, soon-mummahs say dey am tiwed an haf head sickies" your mate reports
>the soon-mothers are sick from being rolled around all day, so be it
>"Teww odda smawties we west hewe den" you say, dismissively
>this is a good spot, you're inclined to think - you can see any approaching predators, the grass is lush, green and ripe for eating
>it's also very pretty which is a major bonus
>you settle in and wait for your mate to return to you for the evening
>life is good
***
>"Alright Brandon you're gonna open up with that thing and then your mother, Cindy and I are all gonna just go to town" you tell your son
>strapping young lad, if you and your completely unbiased opinion say so yourselves
>right now he's got his hands on an honest-to-god China Lake
>ranges these days..
>"Yessir" your son sounds off - on point and respectful like your little soldier ought to be
>"Okay, ready? FIVE!"
>"FOUR!"
>"THREE!"
***
>"H-howd on..." your mate mumbles, and just as you were starting to nuzzle up to her
>she's on to something though, a lot of the fluffies are looking down away from the trees
>now that you're paying attention, you hear it too
>the barking shouts of humans
>you stand up from your impromptu nest to get a better look
>yep, there they are, not even that far from where your herd set up
>you curse yourself for missing them
>you look around for your firstborn, and second in command
>hey, nothing beats a bit of nepotism
>you lock eyes with him about forty meters away, and a simple nod communicates he lead his toughies to recon
>okay, it's a little less simple, he slowly tries to work through it while staring right at you
>whatever, he'll get it eventually, your firstborn has never let you down
>big and strong, you know he'll be smarty of the herd one day
>that will be such a proud day
***
>"FIRE!"
>*thwoomp*
***
>yyyep, just looking into your son's eyes you can see the same burning passion for leadership that stokes the mighty engine of your soul
>the world goes insane
>something wet splashes your face
>you hope it's not water, you hate water
>it's bad for fluffies.
>you turn to your mate to see if maybe she like..spat on you or something weird
>but her eyes are wider than the sky-ball and she doesn't seem to hear you when you speak
>actually..you can't hear you when you speak
>what is she looking at with her dumb open mouth?
>something wet splashes your face
>you look over your shoulder to follow her gaze - over where your son should be
>your herd is scampering too and fro
>what you notice first is the column of fluffies and fluffy-coloured chunks in the air
>a high pitched ringing noise comes into focus in your mind
>a disembodied leg lands beside you
>how long have you been making the same dumb face as your mate?
>something rolls across the ground towards you, bumping into you
>oh
>it's your son's head
>something wet splashes your face
***
>"WOOOOOOOOO!!" You holler, "Right in the fucking middle of 'em!!"
>ignoring your wife's reminder to watch your language around the kids you clap a fond hand on your son's shoulder
>he's just beaming
>your daughter doesn't waste a second with the browning
>THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD
>music to your ears it really is
>you raise your M15 and open fire
>the fluffies are in a panic, all ambling around
>you can see the terror in their eyes as their friends are snuffed out around them
>your son blew a spectacular crater with his grenade - the body parts are still falling out of the sky
>firing indiscriminately into the herd has the satisfying effect of scoring kills with just about every other bullet
>a rifle like yours takes ugly chunks out of a fluffy's soft tissue, quickly staining the killing ground with red and viscera
>whereas anywhere your daughter aims, entire bodies simply come apart as if they'd forgotten the basics of holding together
>your wife, always the picky sort, focuses instead on precision shots, picking off fluffies who break from the bulk of the herd
>even above your gunfire you can hear the retarded wailing begin to carry down the hill
>that is best in life
***
>"EEEEEEEEEEEE NU WIKE NU WIKE NU WIKE PWEASE STAHP!!!"
>you're running
>you don't know how long it's been since the world exploded but all you've done is run
>run and shove your way through panicking fluffies
>where's your mate? there's no time to look
>there's only time to run and shove and ignore the screaming and the begging and the distant roar of whatever monster is hurting your herd
>"MUMMAH! MUMMAAAAAAAAAH!!!" A foal screams in front of you
>you don't want to walk on her, she's so little and precious and just a baby
>but another fluffy bumps into you and you stumble and then she's just booboo juice under your hoof
>and you can't even hug her better because you have to run
>something whistles past you and makes a "TAK" in the dirt to your left
>the three fluffies it went through have big awful holes torn through them as they get flung down
>you clamber over one that's still crying for help
>"Sowee fwend.." you whimper to him as you pass
>there's more violent "TAKTAKTAKTAK"ing all around you, making you huddle up in fear that you'll get a hole blown in you too
>you don't, but once the scary noise moves on you can see you're one of the few fluffies exposed to it that can still stand
>a fluffy whose see places are leaking down his face tries to hug your leg but you shake him off and keep running
>keep running
***
>the herd's gotten a little more sparse over the course of two minutes of continuous fire
>also your hands feel like you've been pushing the mower around for a whole afternoon
>you and the kids are starting to pick your shots now, the basic thrill of unloading into a crowd of fluffies having been tided over
>you're getting pretty good at scoring hits to different parts of the fluffies
>a nutshot here, a quick amputation there
>"Pink mare on the left, five foals" your son calls out, prompting the lot of you to start picking her screeching foals off her back one by one
>your daughter waits for the mare to start clumsily trying to put the mess of foal guts back together before popping her with a .50 cal
>stastically speaking, this range alone is responsible for 40% of the recent reduction in shool shootings, and that's according to the FBI
>you can see why
>you would strongly recommend the pasttime to any responsible parent
>now let's see if you can find your son another grenade
***
>"HuuuuuuUUUUUHUUUUUUUUUUUU!!! AAAAAAAAH OWWIIIEEEESS!! WAN MUMMUUUUH!"
>no no no not your special friend
>not like this
>her leg is...you don't even want to look
>"Is otay! Smawty hewe!" You tell her shakily
>you won't leave her, not for anything
>"Smawty hewe, make it aww bettah!"
>"WAAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAAH!! PWEAS NU HUWTIES TO FWUFFY!!!"
>fluffy? No no no special friend how did you forget you're a mummah?
>she doesn't even seem to realize you're there talking to her
>"O-otay! Smawty g-get peshuw fwend to tweesies. S-safe in tweesies!"
>it's way easier being brave when you're doing it for someone else
>you wrap your leggies around your mate and start slowly dragging her across the red-stained grass
>it's hard, even harder when she starts screaming in pain
>you hate hurting her...
>but when another spray of loud noises shatters the ground near you you remember what the alternative is
*
>it's so hard dragging your mate, you can feel your strong legs protesting
>you have to stop to let another fluffy who somehow caught on fire run past you
>you're starting to get away from the bulk of the herd
>looking back you can see a lot of them have recollected into a fluff pile and are just squeezing their eyes shut and hugging
>your heart aches to join them and just let the bad feelings wash away in soft fluff
>but you close yourself off to that longing and focus back on your mate
>she is your future, she is all you need
>a faint whistling is all the warning you have before something slams into you, sending you pitching forward
>you can't hear anything again, and it takes you a moment to remember what's happening
>you don't waste any time getting to your feet - who knows when the world will explode again
>you wrap your front leggies back around your mate and when you push off against the ground she's so light you lose your footing
>oh no...you can see why
>when the world exploded it took half of her body with her!
>and the tummy babies she was going to have with you
>something wet splashes your face
>you close your eyes as hard as you can and swallow the lump in your throat but you can't help it
>a lot of wet somethings splash your face
***
>"I thought you knew how to aim those things," your daughter remarks
>"Shut up!" Your son shoots back, "it was the wind and you know it."
>"What's the blue one doing to that corpse? Eww is he-?"
>"Dear, I don't really want to hear you finish that thought."
>"Just saying that's what it looks like."
>"I think he's the smarty leader. I saw him organizing some others earlier."
>"Huh.. He does have a horn. Good catch sweetie."
***
>"P-Peshuw fwen.." your mate murmers
>there's booboo juice oozing out of her mouth
>"Is otay! Is otay smawty make bettah! Smawty fix! Gif bestest huggies! Aww bad dweam!" You assure her
>you don't think it's true, and that makes you feel even worse that you said it
>you want to keep dragging her out of here but she needs emergency, battlefield aid
>you look around to make sure there are no more hurty noises and then wrap your mate up in the warmest hug you can manage
>"Is otay smawty hewe, smawty keep bestest fwuffy safe from owwies. Aww owwies gu way now," you murmer
>she's shuddering and shivering and breathing way too fast but you don't stop hugging
>"Gu way gu way meanie owwies," you chant, "nu mowe owwies to soon-mummah."
>your voice breaks when you think about the precious babies your mate will never have
>"Pwease..." your mate rasps, "Pweas nu owwies..nu foweba sweepies..soon-mummah wan wiv.."
>"Aww bettah soon, smawty pwomise!" You tell her. She's so soft and warm, even now it's no wonder you love her
>"Owwies.." she weeps, "owwies...nu su huwtie anymowe peshuw fwend..gud huggies."
>"G-Gud huggies!" You bleat, stupid with joy but not caring "smawty gif bestest huggies see? Aww bettah!"
>"Wuv smawty.." Oh God it's getting better, she's getting better you're gonna be okay
>"S-Soon-mummah awways wuv smawty but..n-neba teww smawty enuff..Mummah weawwy wuv yu smawty"
>"G-gonna make new hewd wiff smawty.." She promises you, "gonna gi-*kaff*-gib smawty bestest new babbehs and biggest hewd wiff smaw-"
>the back of her head explodes
***
>Your son is literally doubled over with laughter
>even your wife has an uncharacteristic smirk of satisfaction as she lowers the scope from her eye
>"Oh my God did you see his face!" The young lad is almost in tears
***
>"NUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!! NU NU NUUUUU!! WYYYYY?!?" You scream, whirling to face the distant roaring monster
>"JUS GIF FWUFFY A CHANCE! JUS A CHANCE!!"
>you stand on your hind legs and spread your forelegs apart, still howling threats and obscenities
>whatever final ounce of light was in you is snuffed forever
>the damn monster took EVERYTHING from you
>you don't even know what you're saying anymore
>you hate it
>you've never hated anything like you hate that monster
>you're not even scared anymore
>you just wish you were big and strong like a human
>then you could make them so sorry for what they did
>then you wouldn't just be screaming at them to come and fight you
***
>"So uh..whaddya think it's doin?"
>you're all down to the last few rounds, and they're yours to fire
>you've got the sky-blue fuzzball in your sights and he's peacocking like an angry, impotent little carebear
>"Dunno, but you should take 'im out dad," your boy says
>you grunt and look back at the smarty
>he looks pissed
>hell, he IS pissed
>who wouldn't be?
>who wouldn't be..
>with another grunt, you take careful aim and squeeze the trigger
>the ground bursts in front of the fluffy, snapping him out of his fury and sending him scampering away towards the trees
>no one says anything as you watch him go
>everyone knows better than to question your aim
>just before he disappears behind the first tree, you think you see him take one last look at you
The End