Fluffichu I

>The Tragedy of Fluffichu
>Act I: Acquisition

>Be a stray earth fluffy with pink fluff and a white mane and tail.
>It’s dark and scary out, but you are still awake because your tummy is empty. You’ve wandered into a hooman neighborhood. Mommy used to tell you to stay away from hoomans, but there are lots of grassies in front of the houses, so you try to be brave.
>You come to big patch of grassies and give it a little survey. There are sticks and garbage all over the place. A white plastic bag stuck in a dead tree is waving in the evening breeze.
>Most of the grassies are brown and yucky, but enough are green to fill your tummy.
>You graze a little bit before you feel little tremors in the ground and look up.
>A great, big hooman munsta is walking right towards you!
>You turn and waddle as fast as your little leggies will take you, but soon you start lifting in the air. The munsta has you!
>It turns you around so it can be face-to-face with you. The hooman has big cheeks and messy yellow fluff. It stares at you with an expression you don’t recognize, not anger like you are used to, but nothing welcoming either.
>”Hello little puffy,” says the munsta in a high-pitched male voice.
>You make pee pees. The hooman doesn’t seem to notice.
>”What are you do…how are you tonight?”
>”Pwease don huwt fwuffy. Jus wan gwassies fo tummy. Fwuffy go way now.”
>The hooman grips you into a big hug. You are scared at first, but soon you realize it isn’t trying to crush you. Its belly is big and reminds you a little of your mommy’s fluff.
>”Don’t worry, puffy,” says the hooman. “I’m not gonna hurt’cha. I just wanna talk to...get to know ya a while.”
>A nice hooman? Well now you’ve seen everything.
>The hooman continues. “Where’s your family, little girl?”
>”I boy fwuffy.”
>”Oh, sorry. Sometimes I can’t tell da difference.”
>”Mumma get squished by bwack wock munsta long time ago. Den sissy fall in gwound cwack.”
>”Wassa ground crack?”
>”Where sky wawa goes. Sissy look into gwound cwack wook fo wawa. Fall in an fwuffy no see anymo.”
>The hooman  starts petting your pink fluff. “Das sad. Do ya have any puffy gal pals or dude buddies?”
>”No haf fwends. Fwuffy been awone fo wong time. Jus wook fo gwassies an sweep.”
>With that, the hooman starts rocking you back and forth in its arms. You like the feeling.
>”Oh, puffy. I feel ya. I got da…I don’t have many of da friends. See I got da autism. It makes me really smart, but nobody wants to be around me.”
>You don’t know what autism is, but it sounds bad and you wish the munsta weren’t so sad.
>”F-fwuffy be hooman’s fwend if wan.”
>The hooman goes very still and looks into your eyes, his expression still seemingly blank.
>”Dat sounds really good, puffy!  You an me’ll make so many fondfull memories together! You can live in my house an we’ll have lossa fun!”
>”Fwuffy haf new daddee?”
>”Yup! I’m a daddy now!”
>The hooman does a little dance, which bumps you around a bit, but you don’t fall.
>”Les go see yer new home, puffy!”
>Your new daddy excitedly walks to the house and opens the big door. As he carries you inside, you see many, many piles of hooman stuff, lots of things you could use as blankies or shelter.
>There is barely enough room for Daddy to walk around, but you could probably navigate the house just fine.
>You are such a happy fluffy. Finally, you have a home. No longer will you have to brave the rain and cold. No longer will you starve for nummies or huggies. You can’t wait to start playing with Daddy.
>Then you see three cat munstas curled up around a pile of debris.
>”Daddee wook! Dere’s munstas!”
>Daddy looks at the munstas and chuckles. “Dose are just da kitties. Dey can, uh, be your friends too.”
>”Nuu! Munstas huwt fwuffy! Mumma say wun fwom munstas!”
>Daddy sighs heavily and says, “Alright, I’ll jus keep you in da room.”
>Suddenly, you start moving up again. Daddy climbs up bumpy things until a new ground comes up. He opens another door and you see something magical.
>The room is filled with color, pastels from wall to wall. It’s almost like fluffies were glued to every square inch.
>Once your eyes become adjusted to the onslaught of colors, you can study the content of the room more clearly. You see pictures of cartoon hoomans, a mass of bedding, and a big flat black thingy jutting out from the wall.
>But best of all, you see toys! Toys of every size and description. Little blocks arranged into building-like structures, figures of hooman shape, lots of ponies, and things you can’t even recognize. Toys on shelves, on the floor, hanging from the ceiling.
>Daddy sets you down on shaggy stuff. Suddenly, your sniffy place starts scrunching up badly. The room smells not pretty. Very not pretty. It’s like sweat and poopies and bad food.
>”This here’s my room, lil guy. It’s where I get away from da stresses of da world. Now it’s yer home too.”
>”Woom no smew pwetty, Daddee.”
>Daddy lets out an awkward chuckle. “Yeah, I’ve been mean…I’ll be getting around to, uh, getting an air freshener in da near futures.”
>”Fwuffy hungwy. Can haf foodies?”
>”Oh, sure. I’ll get you some food, uh, something to eat. Hold on a minute.”
>Daddy shuts the door and walks across the room. He takes something from a high up shelf. You hear something really crinkly. Then Daddy throws a handful of some weird triangle things on the floor. They don’t smell like anything you’ve ever encountered before, so strong.
>”Have some Doritos, new friend.”
>You eat the triangles. They are good, though a little spicy. Soon your tummy is full.
>Wait a minute. Your tiny fluffy brain nearly forgot. Toys!
>”Daddee! Daddee! Wan pway wif toys!”
>Daddy chuckles more loudly this time. He sits down and spends the next few hours showing you all his toys. He shows you his countless row bots and ponies, his annie may figurines, his leggos, and his pokey mans.
>After a while, Daddy sits on the shaggy stuff and motions for you to come over. It’s a little tricky, because the floor is covered in clothes and papers.
>Once you sit in front of him, Daddy reaches up and picks a big paper-holder-thing from a table.
>”Now, lil friend, if yer gonna live here, you need to know a thing er two about yer daddy. See, I’m not a normal person. I’m famous.”
>”Wat famiss mean, Daddee?”
>”It means a lot of people know who I am. An dey should. After all, I am Christian Weston Chandler, true an original creator of Sonichu and Rosechu the electric-hedgehog Pokemon and the city of CWCville, Virginia.”
>Daddy looks really smug and triumphant. Then he sees you staring, a look of confusion in your eyes.
>”See, there was a time when I made a comic book for da in’ernet. Millions of people loved it and everybody loved me. But den da trolls came…”
>Daddy closes his eyes and shakes his head. He gives a mournful sigh.
>”Wassa twow, Daddee?”
>Daddy gets a mean expression on his face and clenches his fists. You get a little scared.
>”Da trolls are bad, bad people. Dey hate me cuz I’m autistic and famous. Dey spread a grand number of slanderous rumors about me an now everybody thinks I’m a bad guy. Dose treacherous bastards caused me so much torturous stress that I had to stop making comics.”
>You already don’t like trolls.
>”Da worst one was Clyde Cash. He was da troll leader. Dat orange faced loser stole my PSN account and made me hump my PS3 on camera to get it back. I’ll strangle dat Clyde Cash!”
>”Daddee gif big huwties to bad twows!”
>”One day, lil guy. One day. But for now, I wanna show you what made Daddy famous.”
>The next hour is very confusing. Daddy shows you every drawing in his huge “portfolio.” You don’t know what any of it is supposed to be. He tells you about the jerkops and his sweetheart search and how he made a vaccine to cure all the homos. It’s difficult to keep track of it all, but it’s important to Daddy, so you try really hard.
>By the time Daddy closes his big book, you are very sleepy.
>”Daddy, fwuffy sweepy. Whewe beddies?”
>”Yeah, I’m pretty beat…I’m pretty tired myself, puffy.”
>“Fwuffy name Puffy now?”
>”Oh, I totally forgot. You need a name.”
>Daddy picks you up. You can see him scrunch up his face and think hard, maybe harder than any fluffy could ever hope to think.”
>”How about I name you…Fluffichu?”
>”Fwuffychu. I fwuffychu now! Fwuffy wuv haf name!”
>Daddy gives you another big hug.
>”Fwuffychu sweep wif daddee?”
>”Sounds good to me, Fluffichu.”
>He sets you on the great, big bed. It’s so comfy! You can’t wait to sleep here.
>Daddy takes off his clothes. He has no fluff on his enormous body, just pale, clammy skin. His happy thing is about as big as yours, but it bends a bit to the side. Also, his milk places are very impressive.
>Daddy makes the lights go out. You are a little scared, but then Daddy lies down and you feel safe again. He crawls under the covers and you join him, snuggling up on top of his big, soft belly.
>”Goodnight, Fluffichu.”
>”Night, Daddy. Fwuffychu wuv you.”
>”Love you too.”
>You are the happiest you’ve been since you slept in your mommy’s fluff. Almost immediately, you drift off.
>Some time later, you don’t know how long, Daddy rolls over. You fly through the air and land hard on the floor.
>Your leggies are fine, but you have bad owwies.
>You cry, but Daddy doesn’t wake up. After sniffling a few minutes, you waddle under the bed and snuggle up to some old forgotten clothes.
>Maybe you shouldn’t sleep with Daddy anymore.