Birthday Party Poopers (Parts 1 & 2) by Nundevwizer

This is my story that I posted on Reddit under the name ThePsychoticSerb. From this point on, all my stories will be posted on here and Reddit under my FluffyCommunity name: Nundevwizer. I apologize for any confusion

A typical Saturday afternoon in early summer, people are out grilling and having parties in their back yards. The occasion was different for everyone, either a simple BBQ, watching or listening to the ball game; the Cubs were doing terribly again this season and it looks like it’ll be another hundred years before they win the World Series again, or in this case, a birthday. This party is for Julie, my friend Frank’s now 6-year-old daughter. There were at least a dozen other kids at the party. I came here with my friend Johnny and his girlfriend Cassandra. I didn’t really know anyone else here other than Frank and his wife, so I stood by the drinks table gulping down a cup of cola. I hear footsteps as I stood watching the kids play and the adults chat amongst themselves while keeping a watchful eye on the kids.

“Shitty party, huh?”

It was Johnny, sipping on some sprite.

I sigh. “Not my cup of tea, I will admit.”

I take another gulp of my drink as the party carried on. Johnny simply stared into his drink, lamenting.

“But I would recommend not saying that in front of either Frank or Julie.”

Johnny snorted. “Yeah yeah yeah. But you know why I think this party sucks.”

“Yeah.” I reply. “A lack of booze.”

Johnny smiled. “And you are correct, my good sir!”

I shake my head and take a sip of cola, while out of the corner of my eye I see Johnny reach into his shirt and pull out a flask. He unscrews the top, pours a clear liquid into his drink, and takes a swig before putting the cap back on the flask and putting it back inside his shirt. I look at him in clear disdain while he happily sips his now spiked drink.

He notices me looking at him. “What?”

I just shake my head and return my attention to the party. I then notice Frank walking over.

“Everything alright fellas? You two seem a little lonely over here.”

Johnny was the first to respond. “I don’t really attend a lot of birthday parties, Frank. So…”

I jump in. “He’s not used to the absence of booze.” I sip at my cola and Frank raises an eyebrow.

“Sorry, Johnny.” He said after a brief pause. “The missus made it perfectly clear there would be NO adult drinks at Julie’s party. My hands are tied.”

He walks back over to the rest of the adults. Johnny takes a big gulp of his drink while I stand there watching the adults. Johnny puts his put down and stretches.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to take a piss.”

But instead of heading inside the house, he walks toward the big tree toward the end of the yard, near the brown fence lining the property.

Now by myself, I glance at the adults and decide to go over. I gulp down the rest of my drink, throw away the cup and walk over to the other adults. There were three men standing at a table watching the kids; one of them was Frank, the other two I didn’t know. I stop beside Frank and he notices me.

“Finally decided to come over, huh?”

“Johnny went to relieve himself and I didn’t like standing by myself so…”

There is a very brief pause before Frank turns to the other two men.

“Mike, Carl. This is Jacob.”

I shake hands with the other two men, and we begin talking. A few minutes later, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out to see I got a text from Johnny, it only said: “Get over here.” I look up and see Johnny by the tree waving me over discretely. I walk over. To see him standing behind the tree looking at something down the yard.

“What is it?”

“Look.” He points down the yard at the fence. There is nothing there, just the fence and the freshly cut grass.

“I don’t see anything.”

“Look again.” He positions his arm on my shoulder so I can follow his finger. Halfway between the fence and the food table, I see little bright colored balls slowly moving toward the food table.

“What the hell is that?!” I exclaimed quietly. “Are those…?”

“Feral Fluffies.” He replied.

I turn to see the fluffies had reached the food table. It was laden with hotdogs, hamburgers… and small bowls of spaghetti. I knew immediately that would be the fluffies’ target.

“Come on!”

The two of us run over to the food table. We manage to get there as one fluffy, a red unicorn, somehow got onto the bench, and was already trying to grab one of the spaghetti bowls with its teeth.

“Get down from there!”

The fluffy shits itself a little and turns around to face us. It scowls at us and then puffs out its cheeks while rising it’s rear-end to make itself look more intimidating and imposing. It wasn’t working.

“Go way, dummeh hoomins! Dis smawty wand nao!”

At that moment, I wasn’t sure either to laugh or cry… and laugh at the same. This little creature, that probably would dislocate all of its legs at once trying to run, was giving me orders. I hear Johnny snort a little trying to hold back his own laughter.


I look down at the other fluffies beside the table. One adult with yellow fluff and a green mane looked at me in mute terror. Three other adults stood there watching. One was cheering on the smarty.

“Smawty fwiend so bwave!”

Another one joined in.

“Smawty fwiend make dummeh hoomins go way an get sketti nummies for hewd!”

One was a light green, another was purple, and the last was blue. The light green one had a stern look on his face, along with the puffed cheeks. There were two juveniles with them, one was white and the other purple. Both of them were following the smarty’s lead by puffing their own cheeks and stood high on their back legs. They looked pathetic. Lastly, I notice the dozen small foals clustered by the yellow fluffy; their mother most likely. This was confirmed by the three foals that shared their mother’s color palette sleeping soundly on her back.

“Smawty said go way! Ow gib ou wowsest owwies!”

I raise an eyebrow at the audacity this fluffy has at threatening me. Before I say my piece, Johnny finally loses his composure and starts laughing hysterically.

“Get a load of this shit, Jacob! This crapsack with legs is telling us it’s going to give us wowsest owwies!”

“Johnny…” I turn around and see the kids stopped playing and were standing there watching us, the adults were doing the same.

“Stop waffin at smawty ou get sowwy poopies!” The smarty turns around while still looking in our direction and readied its asshole to launch its feces at us. I see behind me Frank walking up to us with a concerned look on his face.

“Giff em sowwy poopies, smawty fwiend!” I hear one of the other fluffies say. I look down at the yellow mare with tears trickling down its face.

“Pwease Mistah. Pwease be nyu daddeh… an giff mummah bestest nummies… so mummah can make bestest miwkies for bestest babbehs.”

I’m almost touched by the mare’s plea, but then I remember the time Johnny invited a dam with her foals into our house while he was drunk. It was an experience I did not want to repeat, despite me feeling sorry for the poor creature.

“Jacob, Johnny! What’s going on here?” Frank stood there beside me with his arms folded across his chest and I tilt my head to the fluffies.

“What’s going on, daddy?” I see Julie standing there between me and her dad. The situation was getting tense. I needed to defuse it somehow before something bad could happen… and it wasn’t the fluffies I was worried about.

“This is just rich, man! Hahaha!” Johnny laughs as he pulls out his flask from his shirt pocket. But as he is about to take a swig…

“Sowwy poopies!”

The smarty’s ass turns into a fountain of shit. I quickly pull Julie back, so she doesn’t get hit by the flying feces. Frank manages to back away just in time. Johnny however isn’t so lucky. His shirt gets covered in fluffy shit and when it all subsides, he notices some of it got into his flask. What I saw next I would never… ever want to see again. A fire starts burning in his eyes and I can hear a low growl from behind his teeth as his hand starts to tremble and he drops the flask to the ground. His hand starts to shake intensely and his voice starts to rise. And then…


Johnny shouted as he quickly reached inside his shirt and pulled out a revolver. But before he tries to aim it at the smarty, who fell off the bench when Johnny screamed and was now cowering on the ground covering its face with its hooves, Frank and I jump over and we both grab Johnny’s hand while the gun was aiming straight up into the air.

“Johnny! Drop the gun now!”

He was doing his best to shake us off, but we manage to keep our grip. But he was so lost in his rage he couldn’t hear us, so he managed to keep a tight grip on the gun. I didn’t understand it, there was no way Johnny could get this drunk this quickly from some spiked pop. But before I could think any further, the gun goes off with a massive bang. Frank lets go to cover his ears. I keep both my hands on, but my ears were ringing like crazy. I hear the other fluffies scream in terror. I knew I had to do something before someone got hurt. I swiftly punch Johnny in the face, knocking him flat on his back and forcing him to drop the gun. I turn him around on his stomach, draw my own gun, and press it against his back while holding his hands together with my knee.

“Frank! Grab that gun!”

Frank, who managed to recover somewhat from the gun going off, grabs the revolver and empties the cylinder into his hand.

“Jacob, they’re 44 magnums!”

Oh god. Johnny had brought the most powerful gun he owned with him to a kid’s birthday party. There was no way I’d ever be able to look Frank in the face after this, especially his wife since she was not a fan of having guns on their property. The only exception being Frank’s service sidearm since he was a cop.

“Do you have any cuffs? I don’t want him causing any more of a ruckus when he wakes up.”

Frank points his finger in the direction of the house. “I have a pair in the closet. Mary, could you get them, please?”

Mary, Frank’s wife, nodded and ran into the house. Frank pulled out his phone and dialed a number to his buddies in the police department. It took me a moment to check to see if Johnny would be getting up once I released my grip. He was out cold. But I didn’t dare release my grip in case he was faking it. Moments later, Mary comes out with a pair of cuffs and a calm but angered look on her face. I holster my gun and accept the cuffs from her, but I look at her for a moment.

“Mary, I’m so sorry. I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

She doesn’t say anything as I fasten the cuffs to Johnny’s wrists. She only stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, scowling. I stand back up and exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I look over to a few of the men standing there.

“I’ll need help sitting him down until the cops show up.”

Two men stepped forward, Mike and Carl, the two men I spoke with earlier.

“Thanks, fellas.”

They haul Johnny to his feet and move him to a nearby table away from the smarty still sniveling under the table, too afraid to move.

“hu hu…. Am gud fwuffy. No wan be smawty no mowe…”

I could barely hear its little cries as I turn to where the other fluffies were… emphasis on the were as they had all fled when Johnny lost his temper and fired his gun. I noticed little trails of piss and shit they left behind in their attempt to run away. I see Johnny’s flask sitting on the ground from where he stood. I bend over and pick it up while being careful to avoid touching the specs of shit on it. I shake the flask. There was still some liquid in it. I bring it up to my nose and take a whiff. I almost drop it from the intensity of the smell. This wasn’t Johnny’s usual bourbon… it was moonshine, near 100% alcohol. So that was how he got so drunk so fast. This was the last time I was ever letting him near the stuff again. I upturn the flask and watch as the moonshine and bits of fluffy feces fall onto the ground. I then turn my attention to the red colored smarty on the ground, cowering near my feet. I place the empty flask on the table and bend down to look the smarty eye to eye.


It stopped shaking and moved one hoof to look at me. Its eyes were almost bloodshot from the crying, but it didn’t get up and run away like the rest of its brethren.

“sma… smarty sowwie…”

It tried to get the words out but was so afraid they caught in its throat.

“What are you saying?”

The smarty hesitated for a moment, but then it finally worked up the courage to speak.

“Smawty sowwy for sowwy poopies… an foa taking hoomin nummies…”

I raise my eyebrow and reach in to gently pick the fluffy up by his back fur.

“…no wike bad uppsies.” It murmured to itself as I picked it up.

I brought it to level with my face so he couldn’t look away.

“You better be sorry. You could’ve gotten yourself killed for what you did.”

It gave me a confused look. “Wah?”

I realized it probably didn’t know what “killed” meant. I decided to translate for him.

“I meant, that he could’ve given you forever sleepies.”

He shuddered at the word.

“You are one very lucky fluffy. I saved your worthless little life. So a thank you might be in order.”

He looked up at me with another tear trickling from his eye.

“…tank ou…”

I couldn’t hear him so I ask him to speak up.

“You’ll have to speak louder, buddy.”

“ta… Tank ou… foa… savin fwuffy.”

I nod once.

“You’re welcome.”

I put him down on the grass and stand back up.

“wu… wyl ou be nyu daddeh?”

I look down at him with a scowl.

“I’m willing to accept your apology, but I won’t go so far as adopting you. Besides, I don’t have time to take care of a feral.”

He gets a sad look in his eyes and another tear drips down his face.

“In fact.”

I bend back down to look him square in the eye.

“I would’ve killed you right here, right now if we weren’t in polite company.”

I point to the crowd of people standing near Johnny who was still unconscious on the bench with Mike and Carl holding him down by his shoulders.

“So I’m going to be generous and let you leave intact.”

The smarty raises his head to look straight at me.


I discreetly pull out my gun.

“If I ever… ever see you again.”

I lean in nice and close so the smarty can get a close look at me.

“I will make your life such a miserable hell, you will beg for me to make you go forever sleepies. Do I make myself clear?”

The smarty nods its head frantically. “Smarty… un… undahstan.”


I stand back up to full height and point my gun in the smarty’s direction.

“Now scram.”

I pull the trigger and the gun lets off a bang.


The smarty shits itself before turning and running away as fast as it can. The shot I just fired was a blank so all it did was make a loud noise and some smoke, purely to get the smarty to run. As I watch the smarty running away from the yard, leaving a trail of shit and piss in its wake, it cries in terror. I holster my gun and turn to head for the crowd when I hear a car beep its horn and swerve. The next thing I hear is a massive crunch as the car seemingly ran over the smarty, crushing it to death. Frank, Mike, and Carl run past me. I decided to catch up with them.

The scene was a bloody mess. The smarty was effectively cut in half at the abdomen. Its entrails were spewed all over the road in a pool of its own blood. I hear the driver slam his door and run over to us.

“What did I just hit?! Was it a dog?!”

Frank answered. “No. it was just a feral fluffy.”

The driver had a look of horror on his face… until he looked down at the red fluffy and his face turned from one of horror to complete indifference.

“Well, I guess that’s one less vermin running around our neighborhood.”

We all stand there for a few seconds, when suddenly…


The smarty took a breath and started crying out in pain.

“hu hu huuu…. Fwuffy have wowsest huwties evah! hu hu huuu…”

Impossible! It was literally cut in half and it still survived! I couldn’t believe this. Neither could Frank as he stood dumbfounded.

“How in the hell is it still alive?!”

The smarty continued crying.

“fwuffy nee huggies foa wowsest huwties! hu hu huuu!”

Despite the fact it managed to survive getting run over, I had doubts it would last that long with most of its internal organs laying around on the asphalt.

The driver spoke up. “Damn it! Would just someone go and put it out of its misery?! Just so it’ll shut up?!”

The smarty was in so much pain it started chirping like a foal.

chirp chirp “Mummah!” chirp chirp “Mummah! Bestest babbeh have wowsest owwies!” chirp chirp chirp “Bestest babbeh nee bestest huggies and bestest miwkies! hu hu huuu!”

At least that explains how it became a smarty in the first place; it was spoiled by its mother. I couldn’t take it anymore as I loaded a magazine of live rounds into my gun and aimed for the smarty’s head.

“I would recommend covering your ears, gentlemen.”

The four other men with me cover their ears while the dying fluffy continued calling out for its mother.

chirp chirp chirp chirrrrrrp “Mummah! Why mummah nu come hewp bestest ba-“

I pull the trigger. The round borrows through the fluffy’s skull like it was toilet paper. And simultaneously, the fluffy’s severed lower half somehow shoots out more excrement as a final send-off. The fluffy’s eyes and one leg that wasn’t broken twitch for a second before they stop moving completely.

We stand there for a few more moments staring at the fluffy corpse.

“I think we’re done here.”

I holster my gun and walk back to the yard. As I arrive back at (what’s left of) the party. I notice the cops had arrived and they were escorting Johnny to their waiting car. I see Cassandra nearby staring at Johnny in complete disgust and embarrassment. I don’t blame her. They’ve been together for years and she’s tried to help him with his drinking problem, but obviously, all those efforts were for naught as the officer pushes Johnny head-first into the cruiser and slams the door behind him. I let out a long sigh. I had no idea what I was going to do at that point. Johnny had done some stupid stuff over the years, but this time he had gone too far. I had to put my foot down now and give Johnny an ultimatum… if he doesn’t go straight to jail… that unless he decided to get help and get sober, he was no longer welcome in my house. I walk over to Cassandra standing there watching the cop car drive away.

“I’m sorry, Cass.”

Tears start to fall from her eyes and she immediately hugs me tightly as she cried.

“What did I do wrong, Jacob?!”

I put my arms around her and caress the back of her head while I slowly turned her in my grip like a father comforting his teenage daughter after a bad breakup.

“It wasn’t your fault, Cass. He made the decision to get drunk like that. Now he has to face the consequences.”

She continued sobbing as I notice Frank and Mary walked over to us.

“Frank I’m really sorry for ruining Julie’s birthday party. I understand if you don’t want us to ever come back-”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Jacob. You did what you had to do. You and Cass are still welcome in our home.” He looks over at Mary. “Unfortunately, you can’t bring Johnny or your guns in the house. Ever.”

“I understand.”

I nod to Mary.

“Thank you for your leniency, Mary.”

She doesn’t say anything to me and only turns to Julie.

“Come inside sweetheart. Let’s open your presents.”


I watch Mary and Julie go inside the house where the party had moved, leaving the yard completely empty, save for the picnic tables, and some of the decorations that hadn’t been brought inside.

“I think Cass and I are going to go now.”

“I understand. If you want, I can give you some cake for you two to take home.”

Cass raises her head from Jacob’s chest. “I’ll grab some cake for us. I’ll meet you in the car.”

I nod as she releases me from her grip and follows Frank inside the house. I start walking toward my car when I start hearing faint chirping noises.

chirp chirp

For a second, I thought it was a bird, but then I realized it sounded close. Too close… and it sounded like it came from under me.

chirp chirp chirp!

The chirping got a little more frantic as I took another step. I look down and I see two little creatures on the ground near my feet. One had chocolate brown fur with a flowing light brown mane, and another had orange fur with a white scraggly mane. Foals. I.E. chirpie babbehs. Apparently, the fluffy mare from earlier, when she fled, left these two behind. Either forgetting them in her rush to get away or hoping she could buy time for herself and her other foals by leaving two of her bad babbehs behind. I had high doubts the mare would be smart enough to think of the latter, so it was most likely she simply left them in the panic. I bend down to look at them and saw them wriggle in the dirt, chirping like newly hatched birds calling for their mother.

chirp chirp… chirp!

The orange one was more vocal, rather chubby, and had a horn on its head, a unicorn. It must’ve been one of the mare’s favorites, a bestest babbeh, due to the fact it looked a little fatter than the average foal, so the mare must’ve been feeding it more. Its father was most likely the smarty that I just shot a few minutes ago. The brown one was less vocal but moved around more and was visibly emaciated from a lack of nutrition. Apparently, it was a poopie babbeh, the most undesirable of its litter and its only purpose in life was to eat excrement it’s more well-cared-for siblings left behind, usually on top of the foal itself to bury the poor thing alive. Its mane swirled around its head like whipped cream on top of some chocolate ice cream. The orange foals mane was more shaggy and less pleasing to look at, but its shade of orange reminded me of the orange sherbet I used to have as a kid at my grandma’s after supper. I scoop my hands to pick up the two foals and they start chirping incessantly.


I slowly raise myself off my knees so the two foals would calm down. When I stood fully erect, I realized that I held in my hands the two polar opposites for fluffy foals, the favorite and the proverbial black sheep. They both received different treatment in their first days of life, purely on the color of their fur. That alone could determine how they would turn out when they get older… if they get older.


Their eyes were still shut, meaning they must’ve been born within the last two days or so, meaning they hadn’t been weaned yet. I remember what I said to the smarty before it got ran over that I didn’t have time to rise a feral. However, it didn’t feel right just to leave them there to starve. To die so soon after being born. To condemn them to death when they were as innocent as a young child. So I decided what I was going to do with them then and there.

“Don’t worry, little ones.”

chirp chirp?

“I’ll take care of you.”



I dont know why he wasted the bullet to be honest when a stomp would have been just as effective.


Yep so pricey

Yeah especially if he was using a premium self defense round. That are like almost 2 dollars a round.

Looking forward to part 3!

there is no part 3… technically

I imagine the cost of cleaning the boot would have been more expensive then the round.

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Some water and a good scrubbing on the ground.