Starting a new fluffy thread with a quickie hugbox I did like five minutes ago

starting a new fluffy thread with a quickie hugbox I did like five minutes ago.
he's the tin-can man.

lets bump this bitch. I wanna see some flufflies!

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posting the digital stuff I got.

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Awesome.

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thanks!
also, check'd

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check'd yourself.

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Clandestine Fluff
Mission 1: Seek and Secure Part 1
>People always think that Hasbio could not give 2 shits about Fluffys, They are their failure, permanent stain on their rep and finances even though most do not connect the dots.
>They give a BIG fuck, just cannot do anything about it as they do not want to fuck up their rep and bank even further now that they have legit bio-toys coming on the market.
>That is where I come in, I guess I am a Clandestine Fluffy operative. Low-key and lame when you look at it, but it has its kicks.
>Fluffies are all over the city, too many to count, animal control and police were both sick of the things and had more important things to do. A fluffy control company (names will not be let out so I can stay user) showed up and got a contract to control the population.
>City is strapped for cash, so the company is given enough resources to keep the population from going to biblical levels, losing battle so they set up a Fluffy kennel.
>They sell rare colour combos and use the cash to keep the battle funded.
>That's where me, your user of this story steps in. Tight for cash, bad economy and all, I sighn up, get the job due to my education and work ethic.
>Job is good for what is out there. Livable wage, decent sick days, even health and dental, FUCKING DENTAL!
>Signed a lot of non-disclosure agreements when I got on board, so I knew there was going to be some shady shit going down. Also saw our equipment, definitely not funded by the city's contract.
>Did not ask questions. Not some whistle-blower, especially one with dental insurance. FUCKING DENTAL!
>So the job.

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>Boils down to jacking sows, stealing desirable foals, and exterminating any and all smarties upon confirmation.
>Direct orders from boss, they want to see if the sows produce any foals of use and sell them to keep a cash flow, any good looking foals are raised and sold.
>Smartis are just to be killed, they make fluffies so much harder to deal with. It is not just the attitude, fuck their attitude. They are a driving force in the Fluffy population boom.
>They mate/rape more, smart enough to get more resources for their herds (when they do not pig out on the food themselves), and lead others to ‘take over’ territories thus causing the Fluffys to migrate.
>Smarties are the #1 issue when trying to shut down the populations, thus we kill on site, little to no questions.
>Even a smarty sow gets taken out. Chances are her ‘babbehs’ are going to be smarties as well, making them shit impossible to sell off.
>We work in teams of 2, more if there is something large, strange, or planned going down.
>My partner is Jack (no real names given), a pretty fly black guy. No street thug here, chill dude outside work, probably scrolls through /vg/, /s/, and Sup Forums on the weekends.
>So you are here for the fucked shit, understandable, here we go
>Typical night, south side of the city. Care is parked, im in the driver seat smoking some Blue Lotus (got some sweet drug habits from college). Jack is on the sidewalk talking to some gang members.

>We built some good rapport with the locals, we fuck up and take away Fluffys, who would stop that.
>Jack gets some intel on a herd that's been claiming alleyways on the block, much to the local gangs amusement, they saved them for us. Cool guys all in all, shoot them some Lotus joints and we roll out.
>We all have smartphones so we plan our attack over google maps, pretty jokes in the end. Me and Jack tend to be really tactical when all we are doing is waking up on retarded bio toys.
>We get to the long alleyway, one side housing the other old school yard that is grown over
>Stop the car, get out, load up the gear and bag, turn on flashlights and head out.
>We a few yards in we hear them. They always make noises, they here designed to be detachable so you cannot lose them, makes them shit at hiding.
>Does not matter, their cover will be blown momentarily anyway as it always is.
>A few more steps

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>“GO AWAY DUMMEH HOOMIN! DIS AM SMAWTYS YAWD!”
>Nailed it, smawtys always announce themselves and the herd, every fucking time. This guy is green with a blue maine
>Jack squats down and looks at the now announced Smarty who is puffing his cheeks in a totally retarded display of dominance and aggression.
>”Sorry! We are lost you see! We do not know where we are! Can smarty help dummeh hoomins?”
>You will notice us jumping in and out of fluff speak here and there, its infectious. Especially if you work with Fluffs for hours most days.
>I will save enough cash for a speech therapist.
>The smarty looks us over, behind him we can see some other fluffys starting to emerge, like clock work. Jack smiles and the smarties eyes lock on him again
>I look at the sorry creatures, my brain on analysis mode. Who is a mare, is there a sow, how many foals, colours, maines, horns, wings, escape routes. After a few months on the job it becomes second nature, it's just like analysing a level on some 16bit video game scenario for the thousandth time
>”Nu dummeh hoomin! Smawty nu hewp. Hoomin go away!”
>He is playing smart for the most part, we are sketchy as hell. But we know how to deek out these kinds of situations.

>”But I have this food, it is all I got! If I give you Nummies will you help Hoomins?” Jack replies, presenting some Chocolate recipes from a pocket.
>“Nummies?” The smarty repeats the most important word in that sentence.
>The others hear it to, stating to draw in. I count 4 mares, some may be sows, as well as 3 foals. I see one more Fluff further back by a bush starting to move in.
>”Yes Nummies” Jack repeats holding out the chocolate “Pwese hewp dummeh Hoomins?”
>Again the Fluff talk is infecting our brains, helps though. No communication barrier, makes us more empathetic, makes them drop their guard. All we need is a second and about half an arm's reach.
>”Nummies fo hewp Hoomins?” The smarty, male by my eye, seems to be grasping the concept. Jack assists in this process by lobbying the chocolate pieces at the Smarty, some pieces land at his leet, others around him.
>The mares and foals move in just a little closer, they smell the chocolate.
>Martty leans down and take a bite. “NUMMIES!” he exclaims. The mares and foals rush in to eat the chocolate.
>The trap is closed
>”Yes! Hooimins haf wots nummies and huggies!” Jack exclaims. You can see the herd chilling out, focusing on food. I can see the last Fluff, a large sow by the look of things, finally getting into clear view.

he's not a man, he's a fluffy...

but I do like it, nice one

uploading some pics from a few threads ago
god this stuff makes me sick just cant stop it

this greentext is cringe, just stop

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>Jack looks at me, I pull out a large fabric bag from my back leg pocket.
>’It is time’, I think to myself. Need to earn my keep.
>The black jack comes down onto the smarty’s head. Black out, if his brains are not totally scrambled, we will finish him off in a minute or two.
>It takes a few moments for the mares to realize what has happened, food usually does this to them.
>I have grabbed one of the more fatter mares by her scruff and am shoving her into a bag.
>”Wut? NUUUUU!” She exclaims as she yells are muffled by the bag.
>Jack has done the same, dropping the black jack and grabbing the fattest mare he can reach. Moments later it is in the bag, just realising it has been captured.
>Already the smell is sickening to the average man. The Male has shit himself, the two mares we have bagged, in the bag. And the other two mares and three foals have started the defecation process.
>It is a BIG joke on the fluff boards, the shit. Let me tell you, it is the worst part about this job and about fluffs in general. It is rank, constant, and stupid beyond belief. And its gross, day in and day out gross. Joke all you want, Fluff shit is total bullshit.
>If this was some kind of defence mechanism I would get it, hell now it probably is for natural predators. But these things here designed in a lab, all this shitting is a defect, not one of god's idiosyncrasies
>I have grabbed mare number two, piss and shit spraying out on the foals, it would be funny if did not need to check them.

OC coming in, just finished the first 2 coming up, let me know what you guys think and i will take any advice you have. Also might take a request. Prefer hugbox, but whatever ends up tripping my trigger.

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>I hand the bag to Jack, “ I will deal with the runner, Get ready for the checks.” I get up and pass the chirping foals. They just sit there and cry and babble as they are want to do in situations like this.
>Totally helpless, but god does it makes things easier.
>I do a brisk jog and get up to the slow moving sow in 3 seconds.
>She was moving at a full speed for a heavily pregnant sow, grabbing her by the scruff and lifting her up, she crys.
>”Pwease Hoomin, nu huwty Fwuffy. Fwuffy Soon-Mummah!”
>I point my finger into her tearful face.
>”Quiet, or you will get owwies”
>This shuts her down to a whimpering tone
>I get back to Jack who has secured each mare with a few weighted ropes. A wrap around the neck and the Fluffys are immobilised. The foals are just sitting in front of the adults, chirping, immobilised in distress.
>I put the sow down, my hand on her neck and look her in the eye.
>”If you move I will make you fowevah-sweepies, If you stay still you will be a good Fluffy”

2/4

>She sobs but I can see she gets what I said.
>I look at the tied up fluffies, and the smarty writhing retardedly in its own shit. Have a moment of pity, but then no more.
>Gestapo time
>I lean down, and look the mares in the eye. “Who is a soon-mummah?”
>The fluffies just look at me terrified. I look at Jack, “Manual check”
>Jack gets to work, essentially checking the fluffies internal temperature via anal thermometer. Above a certain temp, she is pregnant.
>Hahaha, poop and anuses, fluffies. It works the best so we deal with the shame.
>This process elicits more sobs, moans, and a few “hawties poopie-pwace”
>During this the sow behind me speaks up “Hoomin?”
>”What?” I look at her. She is no longer crying but has a look of pain on her face.

next 2 are ones i did a week or so ago.
>3/4

any OC is good OC!
That being said, maybe more panels

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>”Biggest-poopies!”
>Fuck, OK, this job is the one where you roll with things. I look at Jack, he shrugs.
>”You be a good Fluffy and have Biggest-poopies! But you tell me when you do and you will be a good Fluffy!”
>She sniffs “Okey Hoomin”, just a little validation can get you a long way with anything but a smarty.
>I turn back the mares and point to the first foal. It is green and having a grey mane. I know the answer of who the daddy is, and the fate the little foal will face, but I need my information dammit.
>”Who is mummah?”
>Whimpering
>”WHO GOD DAMNIT! YOU FUCKING SWINE WILL ANSWER ME!” Yell, bring out my inter rage to snap the mares back to the reality they face.
>They start to cry but one pipes up “Fluffy mummah” Says a yellow mare.

4/4, gonna go work on something, not sure what yet. ill post if this is still up,

>”Good, how about this one” as I point to the next foal. A little smaller but has a good colour combo, and spots. A keeper
>The blue Mare speaks up “Fluffy mummah”.
>I look at jack as he says “One is pregnant” He points to one of the females that did not have a foal already.
>”Ok, get the van, I will prep these girls.”
>As jack walks off to pull the van into the ally I hear the sow giving birth. Over the sound of her noises I hear the typical gooey sounds. That and silent sobs from the prisoners. About a minute later the Sow pipes up “Mummah Finish biggest-poopies”.
>“Good Fluffy” I reply looking down the alleyway
>The van pulls up, jack opens the back door revealing the series of cages and boxes.
>Jack picks up the pregnant sow as I pull out the pressure canister, tools, and yellow plastic bag.
>We then hear it. Once this word is spoken we get a switch flipped in our brain, it will be go time, shit gets real
>The sow, finished giving birth, started instinctively cleaning her babies. She starts on one of the babies and notices something unnatural to her mind, she recoils in what her brain can process as horror and utters the word.

>”Munstah babbeh!”
>Me and Jack whip our heads, I am closer so I say “Im on it”
>In a moment I am on top of the scene. The Mother has an angry look on her face, looking at it. A baby Alicorn. Mix of a unicorn and a pegasus Fluff. Horns and wings. Really rare genetically and despised by all other Fluffies.
>Her mother was just about at the phase where she would attempt to kill the baby with her hooves.
>Just as she started to bring up her hoof, I grabbed her by the scruff and pinned her to the ground. “Weight Rope” I said to Jack.
>A moment later the mother was restrained. Three foals writhed on the pavement chirping, covered in blood and membranes. Besides the Alicorn, there was two green fur and blue mained twins.
>You know what is going to go down with them right?
>I moved the Alicorn to its mother's teat, it started sucking milk. The mother flinched.
>”Munstah babbeh?”
>”No no. Good Babbeh”

fair enough, but, i am still learning the basics of my style as well. I'm not very good at drawing period, let alone doing multiple panels in a single drawing.
>but i will try in time.

>She calms down, head restrained so my lie cannot be outed.
>I look at Jack. “Alicorn Protocol”
>He nods his head half jokingly “Ali-protocol engaged.”
>We out the sow into a cage, and the two acceptable foals together in another. They seem old enough to survive a few hours without direct intervention. They are chirping in dismay of not seeing their mother. The two mares start winning as their babies are taken from view
>”Gif back babbeh naow!” they moan and yell.
>I grab the new mummah and place her in a padded box, make sure she is hevely restrained and put the Alicorn back to her teat.
>”All babbehs?” She asks weakly.
>I rub her stomach with my fingers gently.
>”Can you feel them? They are all there”
>She sighed in relief “Mummuh good Fluffy”
>Idiot

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>Now for the clean up. This is where the Gestapo shit takes its name. 1 smarty stud, 3 mares, 1 green foal, and 2 green newborns.
>We warm up the pressure gun. It emits a pressure impact that will shock-impact a fluffs brains instantly. Because they are so small and delicate the guns settings are on low. If you hit your hand you would get a heavy bruise. Your head, a concussion at the worst.
>But it obliterates the Fluffs. Cleanest and most efficient method. I heard they were using batts when they started the contract. Brutal.
>I prime the gun, and put it again the back of the first fluffs head.
>”Wut hoomin duu…”
>THUMP!
>The now deceased mare lets out its bowels, wonderful. Fuck you all for your shit jokes. It just sucks so damn much when you are in the trenches.
>One down, the next two are just the same, though now sobbing and squierming. THUMP, THUMP. Some shitting and it is over.
>Not for the Smarty and the foals, all 3 of them. The gun will cause the foals to explode, messy shit I do not want a repeat of. And I have something for the Smarty.
>I pull my gloves, a second yellow bag, and a bat from the back of the van. Jack looks at me.

>“I will meet you on the street, Remember we are under the protocol so do not take your time.”
>The van pulls forward, tail lights shine on the green smarty. He looks up at me, eyes all fucked up from the head trama
>“GO AWAY DUBBEH HOOBIN!”
>The impact has made this fucker retarded. I raise my bat, He-man style above my head.
>I hate smarties, true hate. Not some bad feels or dislike. Real true 100% american hate.
>It is not the fact they are the vector proliferating Fluff population, not even that they are massive assholes who will shit on you. They are monsters. Ligit.
>Something has been turned off the a smarty brain, making them vain, selfish, aggressive, and most importantly, lacking any empathy. Each one is a jeffrey dahmer.
>Since I got into the Fluffy business I work with them daily. I see things. Most of them a little strange. But every time something REALLY fucked up happend, it involved a smarty.
>Cannibalism, murder, torture. Fuck I have even seen a smarty raping a Foal. A FUCKING FOAL! More than once so I know it was not a one off.
>Little shits are evil, and they eventually take it out on the only thing they can. Other fluffies.

>No idea if it is evolution making Fluffies harder to survive, but damn if it is not disturbing.
>So fuck them.
>The bat comes down into the Smarties lower back.
>Crunch, no more Walking
>The Smarty Bleats in pain, whatever is left of his senses are burning right now.
>The next Bat hit falls into one of his wagging forhoofs. Crack.
>Again more coherent bleating and wailing.
>The third bat blow is a sideways swipe to his face. The impact sends his body flying, spinning, into a fence. Some shit spirals out.
>I walk up to the wrecked smarty, it kicks and squirms. Besides that it is totally immobile. Its eyes look up at tme. I cannot tell if I am seeing defiance or fear in its eyes.
>I bring the bat down square on its head. Ending what was left of its life.
>I turn to the one squeaking foal. It has not moved through the whole ordeal.

>He looks like his father, a moment later I slam my boot down onto his body. No more squeaks. Just a mangled mess trying to crawl its way to nowhere.
>I grab the yellow bag, Pick up the remains of the foal, throw it in. I do this for the Smarty, three mares, and lastly to the newborns.
>One I just chuck in, the second I look at. It squirms in my glove almost knowing its fate.
>I clutch my first, feeling a popping sensation, I wipe my hand into the interior of the bag.
>The next is automatic, Tie up the bag, Double bag.
>It is a biodegradable plastic, in two days the cities composing truck will pick it up (they know what to look for) and all evidence of our work will be fertiliser next year.
>I hop in the van. Jack looks at me as he put the gear into drive. “Blow off some steam?”
>”I guess?” We pull out and head back to HQ.
>“It was more of a, ‘I wanted to do it’, than a need a release kind of thing.”
>“I hear ya.” Jack replies.
>We make a good team. We get violent as hell here and there but for the vast majority of the time we do the job clean, fast, and effective. Boss treats us well and more of less lets us run free reign.

>We move a few blocks and I see two more fluffs sitting by a bush looking around. I let Jack know and we make a note to come back.
>Right now we need to deliver the Alicorn, it is protocol. This is where the clandestine part of our story kicks in.
>You stayed for the violence, might as well keep reading.
>The Alicorns are rare things, go read up on them. DNN, probability, and all that.
>If we even get a hint of an Alicorn on the field, we are to drop what we are doing, ‘seek and secure’ (actual term we where told), and get it back to base ASAP with one. Anything else be damned.
>Whenever we get one at HQ, it does not go to the mill.
>They just disappear, no one really says anything but a week or two after an Alicorn is caught, the company gets a new toy or enough cash for repairs/upkeep. Not a lot, but I have saw the pattern.
>We pull into the HQ. Old mail building so vans have access. We radioed ahead so the care team is waiting for our “package’.
>See how this is all some low tier covert ops right? Protocols, ‘seek and secure’, care teams.
>We park, open the door, box is opened with the sow still tied down, alicorn happily chirping away. Mother is agitated, she can only smell one baby.

>”Whewe babbehs?” She keeps asking as if zoned out. All the killing, childbirth, and lies will do that I guess.
>The care teams takes the pair and heads out to the back rooms. By morning they will be gone.
>Spoooky!
>The other sow and two fowles are taken out by the usual handlers. One is a cute redhead iv been flirting with.
>We exchange hellos, details on the two Fluffs, and lastly a wink and a good buy as we head back out.
>”You going to bang her?” asks Jack as we head back out to the last seen location of the two fluffs
>”Probs, cool chick, also such great tits”
>”Yaaa”
>We park on the street after a drive. The two Fluffys are right where we left them. I look through my binoculars.

How about a smarty declaring a box of abandoned kittens to be his "enfie-babbehs"?

>Two women are walking buy, one Fluff walk out and begin harassing them. I cannot make out the words. Probably a variation of ‘give me nummies bitch” or “I wove you, take me home”.
>The women walk on, one jumping out of the way of a shit stream. The request did not go well.
>Time to do a quicky
>We jump out, tank and gun in hand.
>Walk by the two chicks who recognise the workers cloths we are in and stop to watch the action.
>”Gif Smawties Sketties o get mean poppies” A dark grey Fluff demands.
>”Totally man! Here!” Jack says presenting pieces of chocolate. “Nummies?”
>You're going to see a lot of this, It's easy, effective, and catches their attention every time.
>The now outed smarty trots up triumphantly and begins eating, the Fluff behind it moves forward timindly.
>It looks like a female, deep blue coat, much thinner.

>This is what I mean. Right there. This Smarty is a pig. I bet we will eat all the food and leave none for the mare he is banging. In fact I test out my hunch.
>”How about we give nummies to Smarties fweind?” I ask.
>”NUU! Nummies fo Smartie, nun for spwecial-fwiend!” The Smarty announces, face full of chocolate.
>Fair enough, information gathered. The gun is placed smoothly onto the Smarties head. finishing the fluid motion, Jack pulls the trigger
>THUMP
>The smarty drops hard, piss and shit spilling out of him. The mare turns to flee but I grab and pin her on the spot. Again, a stream of piss and shit flow out. I knew it was coming (lots of bad experiences) and am positioned out of the way.
>I pull out a thermometer, and slide it up the mare's ass.
>“NUUUU! Poopie-pwace owwies!
>After the 15 second wait, as well as more whining from the mare, we get the result. >Not-pregnant.
>Shame, She has an ok coat but far too old to be trained right. Un-feralizing a mature Fluff is an idiotic task, more efficient just to target decent foals.

The gun is placed to her head.
>”Nu mommeh?”
>THUMP
>Things fall silent. We listen for a chirp or some other Fluffy roaming about muttering.
>Nothing for now. But we both know another Smarty is going to haul another herd into this block.
>There is only war.
>We yellow bag the pair and drop them off by a garbage can. Walking pass the two women (who were taxing their friend about how cool Fluffy murder was probably) we nod hello.
>Get into van, make note on encounter for records sake. Move out, spotlight on looking for trouble.
>By the end of the night we kill 15 more Fluffs, pick up 3 Sows and 4 decent looking foals. >Nothing exciting on the torture side of the story. Just chocolate, thump, thermometer, thump, and bag for the most part. All groups of 2 or 3 adults.
>Ill recount a story where me and ’Kill-mother’ were assigned to each other for a week and hit the motherload in an abandoned factory. He does not run with the usual kill-kit so you can guess how that night went. Ill throw you all the bloody details later on as it all ties in with the overall story.
>End of the night, light up a Lotus joint and watch the sunrise. We do our work at night. Crazy images and cell phone videos would pop up if we ran around executing Fluffy's in broad daylight.
>That is it for now. Wanna tease you fluff-fucks. Some real covert shit coming up next time as well as some ultra-violence.

/story

Thats different than what ive done so far. Gimme a few minutes. If i dont get it done before it dies, ill post in the next thread i see tonight.

In case of newfags.

ty. now i understand.

Hey, so 4 panels, do you want to see the rape, or do you want to see punnishment?

Why not both?

Since you're coloring now, if it's not too much to ask, can you color Merlin's pic you did for me? :D

sure, why not? might take a thread or two though, so just be watching today and tomorrow.

Does the user who wrote this greentext happen to be here? looking for the author

>smoking a blunt on my back porch
>see something in my backyard
>its a fat neon purple fluffy
>it notices me and woddles to the porch
>dummeh poopeh stoopie stinkeh hoomin!
>dis am smawty's yawd nao!
>gib bestes nummies, ow get FOWEBA SWEEPIES!!!!
>welp, time to get the baseball bat
>dummeh poo poo sniffen hoomin!!
>ge off smawtys yawd! Gib foweba sweepies!!!
>gib smawty nummies!!! GIB SMAWTY NUMM---
>FWACK!!!
>I hit it hard as fuck right on the top of the head
>gggggaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhggggggghhhhhhhhuuuuhuuuuuu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
>SCREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! Hewp smawtyheeheeeee
>nu wan...no wan huwtiez!!!!
>its left eyeball is bulging out of its head and its missing a lot of teeth
>hahahahahahaha!!!! You look like glenn from the walking dead! Lmfao
>cough gurgle hewp...smawty...
>fuck you!
>I go inside and watch TV. I hear a light scratching at the back door
>I open the door and its the smarty
>what the fuck? Its been 3 hours how are you not dead?
>pwweeeeeaaaassseee mistaahh...Hab wowstest head owies...
>nee hewp...nee huggies
>pwweeeeeeeheeeheeeesseee
>waaaaaaaaahaaahaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!
>I go get my gun. I cock it and point it at the smarty
>pweease..neber com on mistahs yawd eber gain...no wan foweba sweepiez...nee wuv...
>nuuuu nuu nuuu!!!!!! SCREEE SCREEEE!!!!!!!!!!
>AM MOMM----
>BRAKOW!!!
>I blow its head off and its body flails around violently
>brrrrrrrrrrrrrphhhhttttttttt!!!!!!!!
>it shits and pisses everywhere
>quueeeeeeef QUEEEEEEEEEEF!!!!!!!!
>SPLORRRRRTTTTTTT!!!!!!
>cheeep! Chirp! Chirp! Peep! Squeek!!!
>after I shot her she gave birth to 10 foals..

Garbage.

Whoops, meant

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Okay.

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→SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE

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moar mawty

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was that a bomb?

fluffies just often have trouble reproducing and shitting

Poison likely, maybe bleach or something that would cause gas to build up?

God, the way that SchaferAraks draws eyes pisses me off

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I know, same here but that's why I like his work: it fills me with uncontrollable rage

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Requesting a pic of a fluffy greeting people at walmart with all and a stupid vest, saying something around the lines "wewcom tu wawmawt, I wuv ou"

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OC for Smarty Raping Kittens And Getting Punished. Let me know how you like it.