Fwuffy-Mummah's Babbeh

FractalFluff, March 15, 2014; 10:03 / FB 19256
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FWUFFY-MUMMAH'S BABBEH

"Pwease, nicey mistah... pwease, nicey wady... pwease hewp Fwuffy! Hewpies? Hewpies, nicey hoomins?"

The Fluffy was a large one, about the size of a sheepdog and with a somewhat similar configuration. Her body was covered in shaggy, pinkish-red fluff, rather grimy and dusty-looking; her mane and tail were parti-coloured, cobalt blue and lemon-yellow. She was pacing up and down outside the corner chip-shop, where the residential Lavender Drive met the high street, accosting anyone who passed. Every so often she would sit on her butt and hold up her forelegs in a begging posture, or stand up and totter around on her hind legs. To judge from the reactions of passersby, neither seemed to working.

"What the fuck is that? Is that one of those fluffy pony things? Hahaha! It's ridiculous."

"Oh my gawd — looks like Walt Disney threw up on a collie."

"Look at that — a fluffy. What's it doing out by itself?"

"Is it talking? What's it saying?"

"Pwease, nicey mistah, pwease hewp Fwuffy? Fwuffy nee' hewpies! Meanie mummah huwtin babbeh... pwease hewp Fwuffy?"

"Can't even understand it. What is that Elmer Fudd yammer anyway?"

"Get out the way, you freak!"

"Owwie! Pwease nu gif kickies, nicey mistah — Fwuffy am gud fwuffy! Jus wan hewpies fow babbeh!"

"Piss off."

"Owwie... huuhuuhuu..."

"Aww, is that a fluffy pony? Hey, he's crying... what's wrong, little pony?"

A human lady with a yellow mane and lots of pink and blue colours on her face crouched down next to the fluffy. The pony looked up at her, hopefully.

"Wady? Puh... pwease, nicey wady, pwease hewp Fwuffy!"

A little way off, the human's man friend stopped and turned round to see what she was doing. "Come on, Shal — we'll miss the film!" he snapped. "Leave that stupid thing alone."

"Don't be horrible. Look, he's hurt or something."

"Wady, meanie mummah huwtin babbeh! Mummah gif babbeh owwies, gif boo-boo owwies!"

"What's that? Someone's hurting the baby?"

The fluffy nodded frantically. At last, someone was listening. At last someone understood.

"Uh huh! Mummah awwa time gif sowwies tu babbeh! An babbeh awwa time be shutties inna wittew woom — nu wet babbeh outies, nu wet babbeh pway inna gawdin ow see uffew babbehs!"

"Well, that doesn't sound very nice, does it?"

"An — an mummah nefuw gif babbeh gud nummies! Nu jucies ow fwuit nummies ow sketties, jus wawa an kibbew! Kibbew nu gud fow babbeh, babbeh haf tummy-owwies awwa time — "

But the man human had walked back and was scowling down at her and the lady human.

"Oh, for crying out loud. Look, she's just trying it on. My parents used to have one and it did this crap all the time."

"But she's crying!"

"They're always bloody crying. Look, fluffy — I'm sorry if you don't like seeing your baby get a smack now and then, but you shouldn't let it play up. And you can't just get treats all the time, you have to eat what you're given. There's nothing wrong with fluffy kibble. And of course they're going to shut it in the saferoom if you keep running off!"

"Buh... buh, hoomin..."

"Go on, go home! You're lucky to have a nice safe room and kibble to eat. Think of all those starving ferals in Ohio."

"Buh... buh... buh... Fwuffy — Fwuffy nee' hewpies!" The fluffy was now crying too hard to speak properly. She put a hoof on his shoe and gazed up beseechingly. "Bah... Huu... babbeh... hoomin... babbeh... hoomin..."

Grimacing, he shook her off, kicking her in the chest as he did so. "Ro-o-o-on!" protested the yellow-mane human.

The fluffy tried to speak, but was too badly winded by the blow to get any words out. "Bah... hoo... hoo... hoo..." she gasped.

The human called "Run" nodded grimly. "Definitley trying it on. Look, you can tell by that 'hoo, hoo, hoo" sound it's making. They do that when they're fake-crying."

"Poor little thing..."

"It's not a poor little anything. Look, watch this. Hey, Fluffy? Are you really in trouble? Do you really need help?"

"Fwuffy... Fwuffy nee hewpies! Fwuffy weawwy nee hewpies!"

"Is your human really a mean human? Is the baby really hurt? Does it have bad 'owwies'?"

Had she convinced him? Would the Run human help now? Maybe he would at least give her an apple for the baby...

"Fwuffy nee hewpies fow babbeh! Fwuffy an babbeh mummah weawwy meanie, Fwuffy an babbeh weawwy nee hewpies!"

"Yeah, nice try. Did you hear how it kept calling itself 'Fluffy' like that? They do that when they're lying. If she was in real trouble, she'd have used her name."

The yellow-mane lady looked doubtful. She stood up and stepped away.

"Nuuu! Nu am wyin! Nee hewpies! Hewpies pweeeeease!"

"YOU BAD FLUFFY!"

The woman was in her late 20s or early 30s, well-turned-out in a middle-class, suburban way. She rushed up to the fluffy and mare and grabbed her collar, then swivelled awkwardly to fix the couple with a stilted grin.

"I do hope she hasn't been bothering you with her wild tales," she says, clipping a lead onto the fluffy's collar. To the animal, she cooed: "You mustn't run away like that, you naughty girl! You could get hurt. Come on, home time now."

"Nuuu! Pwease, nicey mistah... pwease, nicey wady! Pweasie-pwease! Hewp Fwuffy! Hewpies! Saf babbeh! Saf babbeh — *hurk*!"

Scolding her in a sloppy-stern tone, the woman dragged the whining fluffy back up Lavender Avenue.

"There you go," said Ron to Sharon. "Nothing to worry about."

"Mmm," said Sharon, looking dubiously after the fluffy.

***

"Get IN!"

The fluffy was flung through the door and into the darkened room beyond, landing heavily. Before she could pick herself up, the door was slammed behind her. There was a loud click as the exterior bolt outside slid home.

"And stay in there! Bloody shit-rats, the pair of you!"

After being outside, the not-pretty smell of the room was very strong, and it seemed darker than ever. Only the tiniest slivers of dim afternoon sunlight crept in through the gaps in the boards that covered the window. The fluffy bit back her huu-huus, though. She didn't want to upset the baby. From the smell, her owner had at least emptied the not-pretties. The food bowl had been refilled carelessly, fresh kibble on top of stale.

There was a whimper from the old, soiled dog bed in the corner.

"Babbeh?" said the fluffy softly. "Babbeh otay?" She limped over to the bed, careful not to trip over the clutter on the floor.

"Huu... Mummah... Mummah..." the baby moaned. The fluffy clambered into the dog bed and snuggled up close, wrapping the baby in a hug.

"It otay, babbeh," she said. "Mummah hewe. Mummah wuv oo, pwetty babbeh."

The baby returned the hug, one chubby fist dropping the handful of kibble she'd been chewing on. She clung to the soft, grubby fluff for comfort, little fingers tangling in the fluffy's mane. "Wuv oo, Fwuffy-Mummah," she responded. "Wuv oo."