>>709904416

Let's continue.

Oh no he didn't!

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Og it's on!

Mmmm... Delightful, isn't it?

FLOOF FLOOF MOTHAFUCKA

Alrighty kids, who wants to see garden extermination? Same author

Awesome, any chance you'll animate some abuse?

me

It's go time.

Well then. If there's a new thread, I'll just go ahead with my yard invasion. Real ending this time.

Ah, summer. The time to kick back for a while and enjoy the weather out on the back deck with a nice cold beer. Hedges trimmed? Check. Lawn mowed? Check. Sidewalks and paitos edged and swept? Check. Yep. Truly nothing to do but sit back and watch my garden grow. Thanks to some advice from my grandmother, I was going to have a pretty good crop this year.

Content in the state of my domain, I swigged back the last bit of my bottle and stretched out for a little well deserved nap in the sunshine.

Blah, blah, blah. Silly plot, go away. People want to see some abused Fluffies!

I didn't do this.

Smarties never learn...

Sure he is, ya filthy animal.

I spy with my little eye...

I don't really have much sympathy for this one, but I really can't stand the woman.

Fuck the thing in his arse (actually that was kind of sexy, leaving a wet patch on the broom and all). Then tell him he can go if he eats his shit. Which he obediently tries his best to do.

Of course he pukes, and she gets angry. Why? No reason, she's already put him through hell, it's clear she just wants to toy with him. Cutting his balls off is not a rational response. And then when he resists, and she ends up cutting herself? That's her own fucking fault. No. Fucking. Sympathy.

Of course that's the point at which she starts putting out eyeballs, because she's a fucking psycho. So no, I don't really care about the fluffy, but at least it had more emotional maturity than the idiot woman will ever have.

Gee? Really? More plot? At least this one has some proper mare disciplining going on.

"Nummies am dis way!"

Voices?

"Wook! Pwenty nummies fow aww da hewd!"

My eyelids raised to their half open position. Through the blur of sleep, I could make out several colorful blobs milling about in my garden. Several more continued to come in through that hole in the bottom of the fence I'd put off fixing.

My eyes snapped fully open once my brain registered what those colorful blobs really were.

A herd of feral fluffies had made its way into my yard and was now threatening my garden.

Not on my fucking watch.

This is new. Twist never fails to make me aroused and unsure at the same time.

Her daughter died due to Fluffy allergy. She only had a Fluffy previously owned by her daughter as a reminder. Said Smartie who got ripped to shreds raped that Fluffy. You have questions?

And she cared about that fluffy enough to cave her lungs in. She's still a psycho.

>lets see what's on Sup Forums
>log on
>very first thread is fluffy abuse
YEET

Butthurt? Butthurt!

I love the expression that fluffy's making when it's being fisted!

Once she learned said fluffy was bought by her niece. And said fluffy had it coming.

Sounds like your average lonely housewife.

Not really. Only in as much as it was a fluffy. Any other pet would have been given a pass for the same thing.

Ah... my favourite... Nothing like some momma-mare abuse. Can't think of anything better. Maybe soon-mommah abuse? I can't decide... I think those are equally great tropes.

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Any other pet is nott an annoying bio-toy, little Timmy.

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I don't know why it is but the way Twistee portrays brutality just makes my stomach churn. It makes me think they might actually have some issues.

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Lucky for me, I live in a suburb that allows homeowners to perform their own fluffy removal provided certain guidelines are followed. First, I had to phone the neighbors to let them know I would be doing some shooting. Then, I could only use the pellet rifle issued to me by the council. Fair enough. At least we were allowed to shoot the fucking things unlike where my sister lives. Her local council only allows the use of live traps. No longspring leg hold traps or conibear traps either.

I rolled out of my chair and strolled into the kitchen through the sliding door. A few phone calls later and I was cleared to go. Hell, Fred across the back lane even offered to stand in the back lane and pick off any survivors which made it back through the hole but I had to remind him that the rules say you can only shoot what's on your own property. I know, retarded but that's government for ya.

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"Little Timmy". cute.

You do realise they're not really "bio toys", that's just bullshit legalese for the purposes of a) Hasbio avoiding a big legal suite and b) allowing humans to kill them without legal repercussions.

There's nothing different between a fluffy and any other animal except fluffies were bred in a lab.

Of course they're thinking feeling animals. If they were really toys, then this would get boring *really* quickly.

>> THIS IS WHY Sup Forums IS GAY
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Sup Forums is gay due to all the trap, dick rate, tribute and general /soc/ and /lgbt/ threads that infest it.

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Woah, you're really worked up over those bio-toys. Haha, now that's something cute.

(You)
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You fail basic biology, can't even recognise an animal.

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Buahaha. Yeah, go find yourself a safe space.

And for the rest of lurkers. Ladies, and gentlefags - time for some Mwike.

This is my rifle. There are many like it but this one is mine.

Crosman Vantage nitro piston break barrel in .22cal. Cheap Chinese made shit but at least it does the job. I retrieved the rifle from the metal locker in the closet by the back door along with the box of pellets. I cocked the rifle, loaded it and flipped the barrel closed.

Opening the back door, I surveyed the herd. "That one." I said under my breath as I shouldered the rifle. I flicked the safety off and sent my first shot into the left eyeball of a fat green unicorn. His body went rigid and then slumped to the ground. The other fluffs around him were too busy eating to notice.

Sadly he seem to left us. Either jailed or fucking bitches in Puerto Rico. Still, he left behind some awesome stuff for all the mare-abuse fans out there.

keep em dropping.

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Seems like mare had to suffer for fashion. Gee, I really miss Mwike.

I don't need a safe space? I'm here and happy. But you need to go back to school for some remedial biology before you hurt yourself.

Note the title. Mwike truly was one sensitive artist.

Can't hear ya over the sound of awesome abuse of bio-enginered toys, Timmy.

Dance, bitch. DANCE!

any less anime?

Speaking of biology lessons - I bet our lurking special snowflake will love this.

I wish dambusters would make more comics.

Science? Science!

Like turkeys, you don't shoot the ones in the front first. You peg off the ones in the back first and then work your way up. The reason I'd shot the green unicorn first wasn't because he was the herd's smartie but because he was standing guard at the hole in the fence. His fat ass would help to plug up the hole in the event the herd tried to escape in a hurry. The herd must have been very hungry because only a few of the foals flinched at the sound of the shot. Oh well. Next target.

Yellow Earthie at ten o'clock munching on my peas. Not today bitch. ~PTAK!~

Blue Earthie munching cherry tomatoes? ~PTAK!~ Dead.

The last shot finally alerted the herd that something was wrong. A few looked up at first, then more. Some tried to wake up their fallen comrades. "~SCREEE!!~ BOO BOO JUICE!!" One mare screamed. The rest of the herd looked unsure as to whether to run for it now or try to chance a few more mouthfuls.

I selected a few pellets from the box. The next few shots might have to be quick.

Yeah, those are some prime Weirdbox style tidbits.

Let's stuff 'em foals with some pain-flavoured pie.

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Now... where was I... oh yeah. Mwike.

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I'd just flipped the barrel back up when something wholly unexpected happened. The herd's smarty peeled away from the group and began waddling toward me. At about ten paces, he flopped down onto his rump and then lay down with his eyes to the ground. "Nice mistah," He started explaining. "Fwuffies am so vewy hungry. Mawes haf nu miwkies fow babbehs. Nice mistah haf pwenty nummies so pwease shawe wif fwuffies? At weast wet mawes an babbehs haf nummies."

Huh? The fuck was this shit? A smarty respecting me? A smarty actually asking nicely for food?

~PTAK!~

A round hole appeared on the smarty's forehead. His body jolted and then went limp. I reloaded as a small trickle of blood began running from the hole down between his eyes. The rest of the herd looked at me wide eyed in panic.

Nope. I wasn't a nice mistah after all and there were no free nummies here. Only death.

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Biggest tragedy? Artist with sublime artstyle not drawing abuse.

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