games for dummehs 08: Reducing your odds 3 (Ainbur)


Blake stared down at Shadow paying careful attention to his demeanor.

“You’re too tired to give sowwy hoovsies to Vern so how about I give you something else if you win the cup game?” The fluffy looked at him with only a hint of interest. “If you can Beat Vern four times” Blake held up his hand and counted the fingers. “I’ll let you live in a nice warm house, and…” He motioned to the boxes behind him. “I’ll let you have all four of these babies.”

Shadow’s eyes went wide. His tail started beating back and forth wildly. It reminded him how Boris would get at the prospect of extra spaghetti.

“Nu take babeh fwom mummah!” He’d expected those words from the yellow foal, but it hadn’t been. It was the blue foal who looked positively terrified.

Vern spoke up. “Wha’ nice hoomin mean?”

“Well Shadow’s a good fluffy now right? So I’m gonna let him watch your baby for you. I’m gonna let Shadow do whatever he wants to all the babies in this room if he beats you.” Blake stood up walking toward the mother’s box. “Like this.” Blake reached in and scooped up the quiet red foal.

“Wew goin?” it asked him without a hint of concern. It just seemed genuinely curious. Lemon cradled her two remaining children but stared wide eyed at Blake. He stopped a moment. ‘She knew.’ Blake felt the sense of disgust rising from within him again.

“Oh I’m just taking you to the nice fluffy who’s gonna take care of you from now on.” Blake walked over toward Shadow.

“Babeh need mammah!” Vern practically shouted.

“Don’t worry Vern, if Shadow doesn’t want to play we can stop here.” Blake thrust the foal in front of Shadow’s face. The fluffy eyed it with a disgusting eagerness. “If you win I’ll give you this foal Shadow. What do you say?”

“Shadoh say nu wan pway game…” Vern said.

Blake ignored him. “Well Shadow?”

He craned his head forward getting a closer look to the foal. He sniffed at it. “Wan pway.” He said definitively.

“Nu Shadoh, nu wan take babeh fwom mummah!”

“Shu’ up dummeh Vewn.” He spat back.

“What are you worried about Vern? Shadow’s fine now right?” Vern was at a loss for words. “You wouldn’t be worried about say… this?” With a swift motion Blake grabbed shadow by the scruff pulling him up and back revealing Shadow’s crotch. The creature was sporting a massive erection.

Shadow thrashed under Blake’s grip. Vern was giving him a look of pure horror. Blake spoke with an icy tone. “If you don’t win, he’s really going to do it ya know.” Blake released Shadow’s scruff and let him drop to the ground. “Stop looking for excuses and do what needs to be done.”

Blake placed the foal in a special pouch affixed to his chest. It allowed the foal’s head to poke out but would prevent falling. Shadow was giving Blake an angry look but gave no indication of backing out of the game.

Blake set the cups again. Both fluffies eyed them with a newfound intensity. Blake shuffled the cups and placed the divider.


Both fluffies lifted a hoof to point and Blake uncovered the carrot from under Vern’s cup.

Vern ran as fast as he could past the cups and over to Shadow. Shadow puffed out his cheeks and kept his eyes locked on Vern. “Nu kick Shadow nu mowe dummeh Vewn!” Vern was shaking but still turned and fired a kick trying to hit shadow’s face. It only glanced off his side. (S14) Shadow looked like he wanted to retaliate but Blake swatted his ass with the sorry stick.

“Sit still.”

“Nu hit Shadoh dummeh hoo-“ Vern kicked Shadow hard in the chest and he tumbled over. (S7) He followed up by slamming his front hooves down on Shadows face. Blake heard another crunch (S4)

“Skreeeeee!” Blood flecked from Shadow’s mouth as Vern backed away. He stumbled as he bumped into the cups behind him.

Blake looked down at Shadow. He was holding his mouth and sobbing.

“Huuu huuu, why dummeh Vewn hawt Shadoh mouthie pwace?” Blood leaked out through drool beneath where his hooves covered. Blake leaned over to him.

“Open your mouth Shadow.” Blake ordered.

“Nu! Dummeh hoomin nu hawt Shadoh!” He laid on the ground keeping his hooves firmly affixed to his face.

Blake walked over to the table and grabbed a roll plastic wrap. He forced Shadow’s hooves down as he wrapped a few layers around his body to pin his legs to his side. He grabbed the creature’s snout and forced open the jaws. He spotted where the blood was leaking out of a cock-eyed tooth.

Blake reached a hand into the creature’s mouth while shoving his other fist between his front teeth to prevented him from closing his mouth. Blake wiggled the tooth roughly.

Shadow let out a choked scream. “Well, this thing’s definitely done for.”

With a smooth yank Blake removed the bad tooth. Bits of flesh hung off as the divet in Shadow’s mouth pooled with blood. Blake flicked the tooth away. Shadow’s mouth closed and he sobbed silently under Blake. Blake began removing the plastic wrap as Shadow continued his weeping.

He remembered the foal he had tucked in his pouch and looked to see if he’d traumatized the little guy. He had a blank look on his face like he was taking in the scene. No hint of worry, just a silent curiosity.

Was it in shock?

Blake looked to Vern. He was watching the whole thing unfold with a terrified stare. The mother and foals also looked spooked so it was probably something in the foal that was aberrant.

Blake only smiled at him. “Good hit. I suppose we can end it here if Shadow quits.” Blake looked down to Shadow. “Wuddya say Shadow, you gonna be a weak little fluffy and quit?”

To his surprise, Shadow returned to try again. He was eyeing the cages now. There was something desperate there. Blake had noted that the fluffy boner had died under the stress of having a tooth ripped out. That alone made the whole thing worth it. Shadow looked back to Vern.

“Gon’ gib wowstest- hawties.” Shadow was muttering to himself. Blake wasn’t sure who that was supposed to be directed at.

Blake shuffled the cups. Both fluffies watched closely.

Once again, different cups were chosen but this time Blake pulled the cup in front of Shadow and revealed the carrot. (V6, S14) Shadow was in rough shape but he still walked over toward Vern. Vern readied himself but Blake grabbed Shadow and pulled him back.

“Wha doin’!? It Shadoh’s tuwn tu hit dummeh Vewn!”

“No. You don’t get to hit Vern anymore.” Blake reached down pulling out the red foal. “You need to look over your prize, don’t waste your energy on Vern. You only need to win a few more times and if you do…” Blake paused petting the red foal a few times. “I’m going to give you both exactly what you deserve.”

“Pwease bwing bwuddah back!” Shouted the blue foal. The yellow foal simply clung to its mother.

Blake placed the foal down next to Shadow. The foal stared at him blankly and let out a simple: “Hewwo.” It looked around at its surroundings taking everything in. Shadow knelt down sniffing the foal.

Vern looked on nervously before checking back to his own foal still in the box.

Shadow spoke. “Babeh am weawwy Shadoh new en-“

Blake slapped the sorry stick. Vern and Shadow both flinched.

“Next round.” Blake spat. He probably should have let him get the word out, but Blake himself hadn’t wanted to actually hear it.

Blake ran the game again and as expected Shadow was distracted by the foal running around his feet. This was something of a relief to Blake. While he had horrible plans for Shadow in either outcome, if he did manage to win, some or all of the foals would meet horrible ends as well. This would deny Blake leverage against Lemon for what he had planned for her.

Vern’s eyes drifted a few times to track the foal but when Blake stopped the switching, he was still following the right cup. Shadow was left to guess. Vern was the only one to pick the correct cup.

Vern hurried over to the foal. He bent down to pick him up and Shadow struck him on the nose.

“Owwie, nu faiw! Nu win cuppie game!” Vern yelled at Shadow.

“Nu take Shadoh’s en- wittew babeh.” He said in a low growl. Vern glared back.

“Vern, that baby belongs to Shadow. You aren’t playing to get the baby, you only win a chance to hurt Shadow. You can keep not doing that, but the game is over for you when Shadow wins all 4 babies.” He motioned back to the boxes behind them. “After that, there’s nothing you can do. The only way we stop before that is if Shadow takes “forebah sweepies” or quits himself.” Blake paused. “Actually, no, this keeps going until Shadow wins, or you break him.”

Just by the look on Vern’s face Blake knew that the fluffy felt cornered. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he could actually get Vern to kill Shadow.

“Don’t touch Shadow’s baby again Vern. Shadow, I won’t punish you if he tries to take your baby and you hit him, but Vern still gets his three shots.”

Shadow glared back at Blake but didn’t move. Blake brushed the red foal out of the way. Vern went in for the attack. He fired a kick but it hit wrong doing almost nothing (S14). Vern tried again this time striking hard on a soft spot under Shadow’s ribs. (S4) The fluffy crumpled on the floor. Vern attempted to stomp on him but was distracted by the foal wandering toward the two of them with a confused expression. The hit glanced off. (S11)

“Why fightin’?” The foal asked the two fluffies.

He was looking between Shadow and Vern. Shadow still recovering from the hits was silent.

“Bwack fwuffie am bad.” Vern said quietly.

“Nu am twue! Dummeh poopie fwuffie am wie!” The yellow foal shouted

“Nu wie! ‘ou am bad!” Vern shot back. Shadow took a step toward Vern. Blake waited for him to attack but his leg gave out under him causing him to stumble. Vern took the opportunity to walk back to his spot. The baby gave Shadow an odd look and went back to his frolicking.

Blake ran the game again.

Vern won that game as well. (V17, S7) This time he trotted over to Shadow but Shadow grabbed the foal and put him under his legs. Blake didn’t intervene. He watched to see what Vern would do.

Vern seemed to hesitate but eventually fired a swift kick sending Shadow tumbling away from the foal. (S9) but the foal served to distract Vern from continuing and Shadow managed to make it back on his feet. Blake decided he would start dragging Shadow over to Vern for the attacks from now on to avoid this problem in the future.

Vern pressed the attack but the first hit glanced off (S17) and the next attack hit mostly empty air. (S20) Shadow’s confidence seemed to be returning as he gave Vern a smug look. Vern also seemed winded for his effort. He was slow to trudge back to his spot at the cups.

Blake set up the game again. Once more the Fluffies chose different cups. However, this time it was Shadow who emerged victorious (V2, S17).

Blake walked over to the mother’s cage. She hugged both children close as Blake reached down.

“Nu take bestest babeh!” The yellow foal shouted. Blake reached down and grabbed the mare’s head with one hand. He slowly applied pressure. The creature attempted to pull away and thrashed.

“Bad huggies…” The blue foal muttered.

“Let go of the blue one.” Blake whispered into her ear. She hesitated but eventually complied letting it tumble to the ground.

“Waaahhh.” It yelled. It didn’t seem injured by the fall. Again, the pillow seemed to have been a smart design choice. He quickly reached down and retrieved the fallen foal.

Before the creature could offer a complaint he set it down next to its sibling. He seemed confused until he looked up to see Shadow. The bigger fluffy loomed over him with a hungry look on his face.

“Nuuuuuu!” The creature backed away quickly. Blake was confused until he saw that Shadow’s erection had returned in full force. This foal also knew.

Shadow quickly grabbed the fluffy, pinning it to the ground, positioning itself over it.

“Nu gib bad huggies tu babeh!” It screamed. Vern was running over to Shadow. He wouldn’t make it in time.

Thwack! “SKREEEEEEE!” Luckily, Blake had no intention of letting Shadow go through with the act. He had hit the would-be rapist’s ass hard enough with the stick to draw blood.

“Why hawt fwuffie!? chirp Shadow was on lying on the ground now licking at the wound. “Huu huu, why boo boo juice come out?”

The blue foal ran back toward its mother’s box. Blake let it. Vern had stopped but was looking toward the blue foal. It pawed helplessly at the glass as its mother tapped back.

“She can’t help you now.” Blake said evenly.

“Bwudah otay?” The small voice of the brown foal said from the nearby cage. Blake grimaced.

“So it is true.” He muttered to himself.

The blue foal looked toward its sister but didn’t say anything. It had a sullen look on his face.

“Nothing to say? Maybe I should name that one Joseph with how quickly you assholes sold her down the river. Next game.” Blake said with no amusement.

Blake shuffled the cups again.

“Bwuda otay?” The brown foal asked again as the blue foal slumped on its side. “Bwuda nu be sad, nice hoomin wet bwuda see mummah ‘gain.” She offered. Once again the creepy dichotomy of fluffy programming. Until the “othering” switch was flipped, fluffies had a compulsion to comfort each other despite past wrongdoings. Blake looked back to the cups

Vern was watching her. He should’ve been watching the cups that Blake was now shuffling. Shadow on the other hand, kept his eyes locked on target. When Blake stopped and both fluffies pointed it was Shadow who was victorious. (V4, S19)

“Huu huu…” Vern seeming to understand his mistake covered his face and sobbed lightly on the ground. Shadow was excitedly looking toward the mother’s box again. He was actually licking his lips as Blake walked over.

“Dummeh hoomin nu take- hmphmmm” The fluffy was muffled under the fur of its mother’s body. She was covering the foal in an attempt to hide it from Blake’s hand.

“Nu take sissy!” The blue foal shouted. “Pwease, nu gib mowe babehs tu munstah huggie fwuffie!” It had latched onto Blake’s foot.

“You sure? I mean, Shadow seems to like your sister more than you right now. Maybe he’ll leave you alone if I hand her over.” He bent down to the blue foal. “And aren’t you already used to that? Letting your sister get hollowed out so you don’t have to suffer?”

“Nu mowe! Nu mowe! Pwease!” It was shaking on his foot. “Hoomin stwong! Nu nee tu gib Shadoh babeh. Can make Shadoh gu ‘way!”

Blake paused. It was odd that he was regarding Shadow and this family so poorly when he was handing him his victims. It wasn’t even that he was drawing a distinction between what he ought to value vs the other fluffies. He just enjoyed rubbing their noses in their own faults.

Blake lifted his foot and let the foal tumble off.

“Ya got me there, given the circumstances I guess I really can’t give you too much crap. I’m still not going to save you though. Even Shadow gets a chance to win, at least for a little while. Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll give you a chance too.” Blake turned his attention to Lemon.

Blake considered hitting her to make her let go of the foal but instead he simply lifted her up by the scruff and shook her a little. The foal fell from her grasp. Blake grabbed the foal with other hand and dropped the mother back into the box. She immediately pressed up the transparent side. Muffled sobs escaped her mouth.

“Put bestest babeh down!” The yellow foal protested.

Blake set it… “wait, are you a filly or a colt?”

“Am fiwwy! Bwue an’ wed babehs am cowts dummeh!” Blake set her down in front of Shadow. He took a step forward and Blake readied his sorry stick. Shadow stopped, looking up at Blake and sat down in a frustrated huff.

“Nu wan pway nu mowe, nu wan poopie fwuffie.” Shadow muttered.

“Tough shit, make her eat your crap or something. Game isn’t over unless you win again.”

“NU! Nu nee’ stupie dummeh ugwy fwuffie!” Blake lifted the sorry stick and Shadow backed away like a cornered cat. Angry but defensive.

“Nu be scawed ob dummeh hoomin Shadoh!” Shouted the Yellow foal “Win dummeh fwuffie and give fowebah sweepies.” Shadow’s head went to the yellow foal. He had a sudden confidence about him.

“Dat am gud idea speshaw fwen.” Shadow replied. Blake noticed a sudden horrified look on Vern and the blue foal. The yellow foal just looked confused.

“Nu am speshaw fwen, am too wittew…” She said back.

Shadow only replied with a sickly grin. The yellow foal looked mildly uncomfortable but smiled back. Blake had to stifle a laugh as he looked back to Vern.

“Down to one Vern.” Blake walked over and reached down to the brown foal lifting her again. He expected her to shrink away but to his surprise she reached out to him. Blake gently picked the creature up and pet her. Vern was staring at him wide eyed.

“Good luck.” Blake said quietly.

Blake walked back and slipped the brown foal into his pouch. It nuzzled up against chest.

Vern and Shadow took their positions again.

“Hoomin otay?” Asked the small voice from inside his pouch. “Fwuffie feew heawt pwace, su fast.”

“Listen up you two. Change in plans, the game is over the next time one of you wins.” Both fluffies gave him a surprised look. “Make it count.”

Blake shuffled the cups. What followed was a tense series of ties.

Two correct selections. (V11,15 / S16, 19)

Blake decided to increase the difficulty. He increased the speed and began faking more switches. He was pretty pleased with himself given the weird angle he was positioned. This was undercut by the realization that both fluffies had been thrown off and neither were looking at the correct cup. A miss from both. (V1, S8.)

He downshifted the difficulty on the next game but the damage had been done. Both fluffies seemed nervous and unfocused. Sure enough, both missed. (V4, S8)

“C’mon, I know you can do it.” Both fluffies seemed encouraged by this. Expected of Vern but a surprise to see Shadow take to encouragement like that. Something of a missed opportunity, but it wouldn’t matter soon.

Blake began another round slowly escalating the difficulty hoping to trip one of them up. Both however managed to stay on point as Blake stopped the cups. Another tie. (V12, S20)

Blake took a deep breath and shuffled again. This time the foals had gathered closer to watch the game. Everything was dead silent as the game progressed.

Eventually Blake himself let his mind wander so that he too no longer knew where the carrot was. Both fluffies seemed sufficiently confused at this point. As he stopped, Blake saw that Shadow and Vern had selected different cups, Second from the left and leftmost respectively.

This time Blake went down the row starting from the right. He flicked the cups one by one. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Blake’s heart was going wild in his chest. He reached down and touched Shadow’s cup. He flicked it over. Nothing.

Blake felt like celebrating but stopped himself when he realized none of the fluffies were reacting. It took Blake a second to realize that they couldn’t reason out that “one cup left” meant that cup had to have the carrot.

“Oh, Vewn win.” The red foal said absently. The other fluffies gave him a bewildered stare. He didn’t seem to notice. Blake laughed as he tipped over the final cup. Vern was jumping up and down, the blue foal was smiling, Shadow was sneering, the yellow foal gave Shadow a look of pure disgust and the red one… was staring blankly at the carrot.

“Well Vern, Shadow, it’s been great. After Vern hits you 3 times Shadow, you can start fighting back, if you hit back sooner, I’ll kill you myself.” Vern was already walking toward Shadow. “So Vern, think you can do it?”

Vern stopped but didn’t look at Blake. “Vewn do wha nee’ do.”

Shadow stood imposingly against the smaller fluffy. His legs were wobbling. His wound had already scabbed over but they were a bright red beacon on his back. Vern got close, squatted down and kicked Shadow hard right on the wound. (S12) He crumpled over letting out a loud shout.

Vern brought his hooves down aiming for Shadow’s back leg. It made an audible crunch as Vern’s weight crashed into it. (S2)

“SKREEEEEEE!” Shadow thrashed and one of his hooves smacked Vern’s face. He stumbled back but came back hard on Shadow’s mangled leg. The hit wasn’t direct, but any amount of movement must of have been agonizing at this point. (S13)

“That’s three Shadow, go ahead. Fight back.” Of course he couldn’t. he was a sobbing ball of agony before Vern.

The yellow foal backed away cautiously.

Vern had only stopped for a moment. He continued to bring his hooves down specifically aiming for the ruined limb. Every contact brought a fresh scream from Shadow.

Now the blue foal was backing off. Its former look of relief was turning into fear.

The yellow foal full on ran back to its mother. The blue foal tugged on its red brother and moved him back.

Eventually Vern grew tired and stopped his assault. Shadow shuddered on the ground.

“Well now, If you’re finished I guess I’ll just take Shadow and his babies to their new home.” Vern lifted his head to look at Blake.

“Nu gib-“

“Keep going.” Blake said. Vern didn’t move.

“Fine I guess that’s it then. At least you saved one baby.” He sighed. “And I guess if I’m being fair he probably won’t be in any condition to do anything before the foals reach adulthood. Sloppy or not, you did it. Good job Vern.” Blake was about to start cleaning up until Shadow started to choke out some words.

“Dummeh… poopie fwuffie.” Shadow muttered. Vern turned his gaze back to Shadow. “hatchu. Dummeh poopie fwuffie nu hawt bestest toughie…” Shadow murmured. He didn’t actually seem to be talking to Vern. His eyes wandered without focusing. It was like he was just spilling the only thing he could think of.

Vern said nothing as he walked over to the Shadow’s head. Fury was etched into his face. “Am Vewn…” He slammed his front hooves down on him. Shadow let out a cry. Vern repeated the action. The skull didn’t cave in but Shadow made another sickening noise. With a sharp focus Vern kept going over and over. Blood began staining his hooves. Shadow’s cries turned into gurgles. Even when a stray hoof broke his teeth and eventually his jaw he didn’t react to any of it. His eye was ruined. Blood and saliva leaked from his mouth. Eventually all movement ceased. Despite that, Vern didn’t stop.

He kept going up and down, up and down. His hooves mashed and pulped more of the creature’s face as he did so.

The two foals were looking away now. Desperately they tried to hug their imprisoned mother. She was slumped against the glass and motionless. She knew she couldn’t reach them. She didn’t know how permanent Blake intended to make it.

Blake felt a stirring in his pouch. The brown foal watched. She’d seen Shadow die. She watched as her formerly gentle caregiver fell into a deep state of blind rage.

“So little girl, do you still feel safe?” No response came.

After another minute Vern stopped. He was panting and his legs were wobbling beneath him. Shadow’s corpse remained motionless on the ground.

Vern walked back to the starting area for the game. As soon as he reached the spot he laid down. He stared blankly at the knocked over cups.

“Damn Vern, well done.” Blake said after a time. “You won. How do you feel?”

“Fwuffie hab… hab wostest haw-“ He sputtered and stopped. “Hate Shadoh. Nu wan gib but feew so gud. Fwuffie nu feew pwetty.”

Blake began setting the cups up one more time.

“Nu pway…”

“Want your foal back?”

Vern stared at him again. It was a mixture of betrayal and incredulity. “Oh don’t be that way. You’re a veteran now. If you play I’ll give you something nice after, even if you lose. But unless you win the game I’m keeping this baby and you’ll never get to see her again. Lose… and I’ll take something from you.”

Blake revealed the carrot one last time. “Well?”

“…Otay…” Blake shuffled the cups but this time he used the cup to flick the carrot under his leg. Vern didn’t notice. Blake had a different game in mind for Vern. Blake stopped the cups.


He pointed to a cup and Blake revealed nothing. Vern let out a very sad sob.

“Too bad.” Blake shook his head sympathetically. “But since you’ve worked so hard I’ll give you a choice.” Blake held out the foal and set it down in front of Vern. “I can take this baby or you can keep her, and I take your name.” This would be Vern’s actual game.


“I gave you the name, I can make you forget it, I can give you a new name. I can name you Poopeater if I feel like it. So that’s the deal-“

“Wan babeh.” Vern said without even a hint of hesitation. (V18) Blake paused. He had expected consideration or agony. He’d expected Vern to at least cry a little. Wordlessly Blake placed the foal down in front of him.

“Vewn am wan babeh?” The foal said. She sounded emotional. It was exactly the tone Boris had used when Blake adopted him.

Blake stared at Vern for a long moment before speaking. “…I thought you really liked that name.”

“Vew- fwuffie am wike pwetty name bu… nu wan babeh tu feew wike Vewn feew mowe.” He reached down and began hugging her. “Why am ebweeting su bad? Why can’ babeh an fwuffie be happy. Jus wan be happy.”

“Yeah well… sometimes the game’s rigged from the start. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could have it rigged in your favor for once?” Blake grabbed 5 carrots from the bag and placed one under each cup. “If you find the carrot I’ll let you keep the name and I’ll let you both stay here and live with me.”

Vern starred at him while he shuffled the cups. “Any carrot’s fine. Go ahead and point.” Vern raised a hoof. Blake tipped over a cup at random.

“Well done.” Vern’s tail stirred behind him. He imagined the fluffy would have gotten up and danced if he still had the energy. Vern looked down to the foal.

“Babeh nee’ name too.” Vern’s head rose to Blake. “Pwease.” It said.

Blake considered setting the cups up again, but relented. “Willow.” Blake responded. He looked down to the brown foal. “Your new name is Willow.”

Willow gave Blake a wide smile as she danced around. “Am Wiwwoh, am wiwwoh.” She said on repeat over the next few seconds. Vern was looking at her with a tired smile.

“Nu faiw!” Shouted the yellow foal. “Bestest babeh wan pwettie name tu!”

It had been a miracle that the brat hadn’t interrupted him earlier. Quite considerate all things considered. Blake turned his head toward her.

“Wanna play for it?”


Blake sat down on the living room couch in front of the TV. Next to him was Boris who was relaxing after a long day of stacking blocks. The fluffy had spent a full minute describing the intricacies of what Blake assumed was a 5 block tower. A feat to be sure and Blake pretended to be invested.

He’d told Boris that they were going to watch a movie. They were in-fact, going to watch 2.

They each held bowls of popcorn. One was his own and the other was the “fluffy safe” variety. It helped that he added seasoning to Boris’s bowl. Boris loved the stuff. He’d filled up early and only occasionally bent down to munch on what remained.

On the tv played the last scene of The Hunchback of Notre dam. Boris had been watching through the Disney collection recently. It was about as intense as you could get movie wise with a fluffy. Blake had used them as something of a teaching tool in the hopes of teaching his fluffy some kindness.

This movie was particularly appropriate.

Naturally the questions about why people were being mean to Quasimodo arose during their watch through. By fluffy standards he looked just like any other human.

Blake had very blatantly talked about how people would foolishly judge people based on appearance.

He’d pointed out that even though the hunchback was ugly by human standards he was the best character in the movie. He wasn’t sure if Boris would make the connection but he’d repeated the line a few times over the course of the movie. It also helped that Frollo was a gigantic asshole, had attempted to drown a baby, and had colors that a fluffy usually liked in his outfit.

The credits started and Blake turned to Boris.

“Well? You like the movie?”

“Dummeh nu weggie wockie peopew wewe nu fun, bu’ wuv Kuwazimodo. Daddeh, did da Bad puppaw hoomin take foebah sweepies?”

“Sure did budd-“ Right on cue the credits were interrupted with static. The picture changed to the playroom.

“Huh, that’s weird.” Blake said. His acting was terrible, but hell if Boris knew that.

Footage from Blake’s game flickered on the tv. “Daddeh, magic windoh am pway woom!”

“Yeah, that’s weird.” Blake in his disguise came in from the side. Boris looked at the screen then at Blake.


“What? No, look at his mane, that human looks nothing like daddeh!”

“Oh, sowwy daddeh, Bawis am being dummeh. Who am dis hoomin.”

“Don’t know Boris.”

The screen flickered focused on Shadow. Blake’s own rasped voice spoke through the speakers. “This is Shadow, he doesn’t like Boris.”


Shadow’s own voice cut him off. “Nu, Bawis am dummeh name. Bawis am dummeh!”

Boris was looking at the TV fluffy angrily. “Why dummeh fwuffie say dat!?” He stood up and stomped his hoof, puffing out his cheeks.

The footage flickered again and Vern was on the screen. “Nu say dat about Bawis, am gud fwuffie.” Unlike the last scene this dialog had been recorded shortly after the game, but there was no way for Boris to know that.

Blake let the TV continue to play his edited footage of the game between Shadow and Vern. Blake mostly edited out the parts where Vern.

Boris watched the screen the whole time. Fluffies had a hard time understanding the concept of fiction, and seemed completely inept at understanding that recorded footage wasn’t happening as it was being viewed. That was Blake’s intention of course. If propaganda was good enough for humans it sure as hell was good enough for fluffies.

While the audio through most of the video had been genuine the final scene of Vern crushing Shadow’s head had another track recorded from Vern to play over it.

“Nu be mean tu Bawis! Nu take sketti, ow housie, ow daddeh!” After that the feed cut. Blake stood up.

“Stay here Boris.” He commanded as he walked toward the play room.

“Wewe dadeh goin!?”

“I’ll be right back, guard the popcorn nummies!”

As Blake rounded the corner he slowed down and opened the play place door. The new clean room still contained Vern and Willow as well as the now unmuzzled mother. She and the foals said nothing as Blake scooped up Vern.

“Showtime buddy, you remember what you’re supposed to say?”

“Vewn hawt Shadoh tu hewp Bawis…” Vern pondered trying to remember the rest “…Ask if be toughie?”

“Yup, be polite and don’t… well whatever, just make a good first impression.” Blake slipped Willow into the pouch. “If it seems safe we’ll bring out Willow too.”

Blake didn’t need to explain that Boris was aware of what had happened. Blake had simply lied and told Vern that Shadow had seen and not heard the fight.

Blake lifted Vern into his arms and strode back to the living room. Boris gave him an odd look as he cradled the green fluffy and set him down on the couch next to Boris.

“Daddeh, dat am TV fwuffie? Vewn?” Vern smiled at the use of his name.

“Hewwo. Nyu fwen’?”

Boris looked at him suspiciously, or perhaps quizzically. “Ou stahp meenie Shadoh fwom take housie? Shouwd habe wet Bawis du. Am bettah a’ cuppie game.”

“Daddeh say dat.” Vern responded. Boris bristled.

“Daddeh am Bawis Daddeh onwy…”

“Now Boris, I did tell you we would be getting more fluffies. You don’t like this one?”

Boris was tapping at the cushion lightly. He was avoiding both their gazes.

“Boris, there’s a whole herd of mean fluffies who took daddeh’s yard. You can’t beat all of them. You need a strong toughie who can back you up!” Blake reached down and pet both of them. “And this guy, he hasn’t even met you, but he still risked fowebah sweepies to keep us safe.”

Boris looked at Vern. “Ou weawwy sabe daddeh and Bawis?”


“Why do dat?” Now there definitely was suspicion.

Vern was looking around nervously. Blake interjected. “He has a baby.” Blake reached into his coat and withdrew Willow. Boris stared at her, and Blake brought her close. Boris sniffed her.

“Hee hee. Big fwuffie am su pwetty, am su much pwettiah dan owd smawtie!” Blake had to hide the surprise on his face. He hadn’t told her to say any of that.

Boris finished inspecting her and spoke. “Am poopie, bu, smeww su pwetty. Bawis am nebah meet fwuffie who smeww su pwettie…” Blake wondered why this hadn’t happened with Vern. Goddamnit, if his pet was also a foal fucker he’d choke it to death himself.

Blake looked down at Vern and remembered the exertion and blood. He probably didn’t smell good even with a bath.

‘Well then, crisis averted. Probably.’

“Wiwwow am gud babbeh.” Vern said quietly. “Nee home and wub, wike aww gud babeh.”

“Ou wan be Bawis toughie, keep housie safe fwom dummeh fwuffies?” Boris asked him.

Vern nodded. Boris turned to Blake. “Dese am gud fwuffies, wan in Bawis hewd.”

“Well, it’s settled then.” Blake considered reading the riot act to his fluffy, but ultimately decided against it. Again, talking did nothing with these little twits. Dominance was a state of being. He couldn’t stop Boris from looking down on him and making the categorical error that all smarties made, but as Boris had become addicted to playing his games he seemed to know on some level that Blake was required for his access to them. That and he seemed to like Blake. Maybe that counted for something.

“Tomorrow I’m going to take these two to the vet and after that well… I think it’s about time we teach the outside smarty who the best smarty is.”


(Next entry will not be the direct followup to the story. There are a few things I want to write out before that. Specifically Blake’s journal entries with Boris. I didn’t write those events yet because I was eager to do these other things and going by the format of journal entries I can be more brief.

I may also do what-ifs for the scenarios I’d planned out if Vern had lost, or if he’d traded the foal away for his name. Those two will be brief and be something I work on concurrently with the next arc. I wrote the skeleton of Reducing your odds before finalizing each part so arcs take a bit of time.

Thanks for reading. See you next time.)



Man i loved it, best part so far, what a interesting concept to use a dice to decide the history, it made the stakes feel real, really good man, will be waiting for more


This story is just so damn good I, really look forward to your posts.

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Man this had me on the edge of my seat. Well done