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Twine

By: Zeikfried on Apr 29th, 2012 | syntax: None | size: 4.20 KB | hits: 286 | expires: Never

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>A herd of five abandoned fluffies has recently started camping out around your apartment building.
>They ate the tiny strip of grass on day one and, since they're usually too dumb to shit in the dirt, it grows back slowly or not at all.
>One of the mares is pregnant as well.
>The fluffies haven't moved on to another area because the hambeast in 1B keeps feeding them and playing with them.
>The building is strictly 'no pets' so this is probably her outlet for all the crazy cat lady feelings she has because no one loves her.
>However, she doesn't feed them often enough, meaning that the little beggars are always crying through the night about being hungry.
>When they're not crying for people to come play with them.
>You've brought it up to the super but the chickenshit won't do anything to her since she's technically feeding them on public property.
>Sometimes people will feed them or smack them around until they're quiet, but more usually they get ignored.
>Yesterday they knocked over everyone's garbage and tore the bags open for food.
>Then cried all night because their tummies hurt from eating rotten food.
>No shit, Derpy.
>In the morning the sidewalk was covered with trash and fetid garbage diarrhea, and the little shitcunts were covered in it.
>motherofgod.jpg
>They smeared it all over the building steps and everyone's bumpers and hubcaps trying to scratch itches in their fluff.
>You've had all you can stands, and you can't stands no more.
>On the way home from work in your new fluffyshitmobile you stop at Wal-mart and pick up a bundle of twine and several cans of Spaghetti-Os.
>That night after sundown you come out of your building.
>The fluffies crowd around you immediately with cries of "Pwease foodies!" "Tummy owchies bad!" "Hungwy!"
>They've been cleaned off, probably by the hambeast since anyone else would have 'cleaned' them with a shotgun full of rock salt or a nine-iron.
>You kneel down and the fluffies all put their front hooves expectantly on your legs.
>"Pwease foodies, fwiend?" "Fwuffy tummy huwties bad!"
>You tell them that you'll feed them if they agree to become your pets.
>The fluffies agree pretty much instantly with cries of "New daddy!" and "Daddy, gib us foodies!"
>You ask them to wait there and head inside.
>You can hear the fluffies pawing at the front door as you walk back to your apartment.
>"Pwease no go!" "Daddy, pwease foodies! No weave fwuffy!"
>Little idiots, do they think you have spaghetti in your pocket or something?
>You open the cans of Spaghetti-Os and cut five loops of twine.
>Back outside, you walk to the curb, surrounded by salivating fluffies crying "Gib sketties now!" "Fwuffy wan sketties! Gib daddy!"
>You dump the cans' contents into five piles on the ground and watch the fluffies carefully to make sure they share equally.
>The pregnant dam is crying and trying to reach its pile with its stubby legs while two other fluffies chow on its portion.
>You kick the stupid greedy pigs away and tilt the pregnant, swollen dam's face down so she can eat her food.
>They puff their cheeks and stomp their little hooves on the pavement, defecating in protest.
>Fucks given = zero.
>Once all the fluffies have eaten, you begin tying twine to their fluffy tails starting with the dam, making sure it grips firmly.
>"What dis scratchy?" the pregnant dam asks.
>You tell her it's a ribbon and that it means she's your pet now.
>The fluffies go apeshit, crying "Yay! Wan wibbon too!" and practically mobbing you for their twine.
>You tie twine to each one.
>You tell them all to stay right there, and tie the loose end of the twines to the hitch on the back of a blue SUV parked at the curb.
>Once all the fluffies have been roped, you tell them that it's sleepy time for fluffies and that you'll be back later.
>The fluffies all crowd you anyway, asking "Pway?" "Daddy wuv fwuffies? Pway?"
>Brush the dumb critters off and stand up, telling them you'll play later.
>The fluffies cry for a bit when you refuse to play, but having eaten well and being unable to run around because of the twine, they eventually get bored and go to sleep.
>At 4:00AM, while it's still dark out, the hambeast comes out to go to work, climbs in her blue SUV, turns on her music, and drives off.

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>A herd of five abandoned fluffies has recently started camping out around your apartment building.
>They ate the tiny strip of grass on day one and, since they're usually too dumb to shit in the dirt, it grows back slowly or not at all.
>One of the mares is pregnant as well.
>The fluffies haven't moved on to another area because the hambeast in 1B keeps feeding them and playing with them.
>The building is strictly 'no pets' so this is probably her outlet for all the crazy cat lady feelings she has because no one loves her.
>However, she doesn't feed them often enough, meaning that the little beggars are always crying through the night about being hungry.
>When they're not crying for people to come play with them.
>You've brought it up to the super but the chickenshit won't do anything to her since she's technically feeding them on public property.
>Sometimes people will feed them or smack them around until they're quiet, but more usually they get ignored.
>Yesterday they knocked over everyone's garbage and tore the bags open for food.
>Then cried all night because their tummies hurt from eating rotten food.
>No shit, Derpy.
>In the morning the sidewalk was covered with trash and fetid garbage diarrhea, and the little shitcunts were covered in it.
>motherofgod.jpg
>They smeared it all over the building steps and everyone's bumpers and hubcaps trying to scratch itches in their fluff.
>You've had all you can stands, and you can't stands no more.
>On the way home from work in your new fluffyshitmobile you stop at Wal-mart and pick up a bundle of twine and several cans of Spaghetti-Os.

>That night after sundown you come out of your building.
>The fluffies crowd around you immediately with cries of "Pwease foodies!" "Tummy owchies bad!" "Hungwy!"
>They've been cleaned off, probably by the hambeast since anyone else would have 'cleaned' them with a shotgun full of rock salt or a nine-iron.
>You kneel down and the fluffies all put their front hooves expectantly on your legs.
>"Pwease foodies, fwiend?" "Fwuffy tummy huwties bad!"
>You tell them that you'll feed them if they agree to become your pets.
>The fluffies agree pretty much instantly with cries of "New daddy!" and "Daddy, gib us foodies!"
>You ask them to wait there and head inside.
>You can hear the fluffies pawing at the front door as you walk back to your apartment.
>"Pwease no go!" "Daddy, pwease foodies! No weave fwuffy!"
>Little idiots, do they think you have spaghetti in your pocket or something?
>You open the cans of Spaghetti-Os and cut five loops of twine.
>Back outside, you walk to the curb, surrounded by salivating fluffies crying "Gib sketties now!" "Fwuffy wan sketties! Gib daddy!"
>You dump the cans' contents into five piles on the ground and watch the fluffies carefully to make sure they share equally.
>The pregnant dam is crying and trying to reach its pile with its stubby legs while two other fluffies chow on its portion.
>You kick the stupid greedy pigs away and tilt the pregnant, swollen dam's face down so she can eat her food.
>They puff their cheeks and stomp their little hooves on the pavement, defecating in protest.
>Fucks given = zero.

>Once all the fluffies have eaten, you begin tying twine to their fluffy tails starting with the dam, making sure it grips firmly.
>"What dis scratchy?" the pregnant dam asks.
>You tell her it's a ribbon and that it means she's your pet now.
>The fluffies go apeshit, crying "Yay! Wan wibbon too!" and practically mobbing you for their twine.
>You tie twine to each one.
>You tell them all to stay right there, and tie the loose end of the twines to the hitch on the back of a blue SUV parked at the curb.
>Once all the fluffies have been roped, you tell them that it's sleepy time for fluffies and that you'll be back later.
>The fluffies all crowd you anyway, asking "Pway?" "Daddy wuv fwuffies? Pway?"
>Brush the dumb critters off and stand up, telling them you'll play later.
>The fluffies cry for a bit when you refuse to play, but having eaten well and being unable to run around because of the twine, they eventually get bored and go to sleep.
>At 4:00AM, while it's still dark out, the hambeast comes out to go to work, climbs in her blue SUV, turns on her music, and drives off.

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