Title: Fwuffies Sketties Author: Bronitz Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/9t4PANNA First Edit: Saturday 11th of August 2012 03:15:05 PM CDT Last Edit: Saturday 11th of August 2012 03:15:05 PM CDT  Remember !eCHaRm9b0Q 08/07/12(Tue)21:02 No.3742976   >it's 6:00 am >you hear the door bell ring >you stumble out of bed, to the door and answer it >you see a nervous looking girl scout with a flat rectangular cookie box in her hands. >what is she doing here at this ungodly hour? "hello there, are you selling goods for charity?" you say, trying to help her out. >the girl scout shyly nods "how much will it be for one box" you say. >she stares at you for a few seconds. "f-five dollars" she mumbles. >you buy a pack, hand the girl some money and a tip and send her on her way. >It's still quite early in the morning so you put the cookies on your kitchen counter and head off back to bed, still wondering why on earth a girl scout knocked on your door this early. >you wake up to the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen. >fearing that this may be a thief you grab a the first thing you can find, a cane, and sneak into the kitchen. >to your utter horror you find 4 fluffy pups crawling on your kitchen surfaces. "fwuffy hungwy nuu wike" >you lay the cane on the kitchen floor and approach the 4 rascals.   >one of the little guys notices you and looks at you with eager eyes. "hi fwiend haf nummies? gif big hugs!" "sure little guy I have nummies, you just give me a while to prepare them" you reply >one of the other little fluffies crinkles up his nose "nuuu need nummies now!" >the others follow his actions and an adorable tantrum begins to unfold >you pause for a moment to gather your thoughts. "now little guy, if I'm rushed I won't be able to make the spaghetti" >A surprised expression spreads across the faces of the four little... siblings you assume. "sketties!" they say almost in unison. >by their expression alone you can tell you've won them over. >you gather them up in your arms and put them down on the floor by your feet. >as you begin to cook the little pups chirp joyfully and nuzzle at your shins with their soft white fur. >the fluffies watch you with eager eyes as you prepare their meal. >their mouths water when you add the spaghetti to the pan. >their stomachs growl ferociously as you add the chopped peppers to the mix. >by the time you add the tomato puree they are in heaven.   "Nearly done" you say with a big grin on your face "almost time for a taste, who wants to go first?" "ME PWEASE!" yells one of the little fluffies "alrighty then" >the little guy beams at you. >you pick the fluffy up and put him on the chopping board >while holding him on his back, you grab a large knife the dumb fluffy is completely oblivious to the gravity of the situation. >in one fluid motion you slide the knife through the fluffies soft belly, shearing off the creatures skin >it's expression turns from delight to horror in the split second it takes for him to realize what just happened. "aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh downt huwt fwuffy!" >not listening to the small creatures pleas you continue the peel away his skin. >the other fluffies gasp loudly. >they take turns pleading for their sibling's life "nu don't huwt fwiend" "why huwt fwiend?" >but you aren't finished there >you continue to hack off the vermins skin with your bloody knife. >you hear the other fluffies scurrying away to other parts of the house "I'll deal with them later" you say.   >as you hack more and more skin off the creature it's screams become more and more desperate. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH" >eventually you remove all of the little bastards skin. >an impressive pile of skin peelings lie on the side of your chopping board, the look like little bloody towels. >blood from the fluffies exposed innards drips on to your kitchen counter >the fluffy is still alive and shaking profusely, it covers it's eyes with its hooves and wimpers incoherently. >you decide that the most humane thing to do is to give it a quick death. >using the knife, you slit the creatures throat. >A surprising lack of blood comes out, though, you suppose there wasn't much blood left to come out. "time to find the other 3" >the three remaining fluffies appear to have run off and hidden in other areas of your house. >you spot a trail of urine leading across to your bed room "stupid little shits"   >as you creep inside your room you hear a faint muttering. "p-p-pwease b-be qwuiet so m-munsta wownt find fwuffies" >you see two shaking mounds under your bed sheets. >you have a funny idea "I wonder where those bad, bad fluffies are" you say in a scary voice, psychologically torturing the fluffies. >the wimpering gets louder. "When I find those fluffies I'm going to kill them in the most painful way possible" "n-nu" one of the ponies squeels under the sheer pressure of the moment. "AHA" you shout while grabbing your duvet and whipping it away. >The pure look of horror on their faces is priceless, they don't even dare scream, they just shake. >you pick them up by their fur and drag them into your living room >you tie a rope to their hind hooves and hang them from your chandeliar. "now it's fun time" >you grab the cane from earlier begin to whip them mercilessly. *CRACK* "WAAAAAAAAAAHHHH DAT HUWT FWUF-". *CRACK* "AAAAAAAHH PWEASE STOP SOWWY STIC-* *CRACK* >by the time you are finished the fluffies are a mess. >their once soft, white fur is ragged and blood stained. "lovely and tender" you say >you walk back into the kitchen with the two dead fluffies to finish making your meal.   >when the meal is done you serve it out onto your plate and take it into your dining area. >you pull out the chair to sit down and find a shit stained, terrified fluffy cowering in fear. "pwease nu hurt fwuffy!" cries the little guy >you take a deep breath "ok I promise, I won't hurt you" >the fluffy looks a little relieved though still incredibly distressed "if you eat the spaghetti" >tears well up in it's eyes. "b-b-but" "no buts, if you don't eat the spaghetti I'll kill you, you bad fluffy" >clogs turn inside it's mind and it realises it's between a rock and a hard place. "are you going to be a good fluffy?" you say. >it looks up at you and whimpers- "y-yes" >you place the fluffy on the floor and lower the plate down to it. >using all of the will power it's little mind posseses the little fluffy chows down on the sibling bolognase. >it's whole body shakes, snot trickles out of it's little snout. >you are surprised at how much self the little guy has. >it's nearly finished now >with it's last mouthful it begins to urinate uncontrollablym then curls into a little furry ball and cries.   >you decide to honour your promise to the now emotionally damaged fluffy. >you adopt him and name him hannibal. >hannibal lives a miserable life with you. >every time he mispronounces his complex (for a fluffy) name, you whip him brutally with the sorry stick. >you keep a packet of spaghetti in view upon a high shelf in his room but you only feed him brocoli. >he spends every hour of every day, when you aren't abusing him, hiding in his duvet wimpering softely to himself. >you keep your word.   THE END.