A Fluffy Excuse

Shoot was not the responsible type, even among succubuns. As such, he hardly ever seriously considered taking in and caring for an imp. Even when he would comment on just liking a particular imp’s aesthetics, anyone who knew anything about him would pipe up to dissuade him from getting one.

One such naysayer was the catalyst for him actually going for it: Oliver, the general manager at the club he worked at.

“Yeah no. Absolutely not.”

Chin resting on his hand, Shoot huffed and rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. And why not? Go ahead. Give me the responsibility spiel. Tell me exactly why I couldn’t handle a devish.”

“Well, yeah, you’re irresponsible. Your job is literally to play music and yell at a crowd, and you still find every way to goof off instead of doing it.” Oliver quickly knocked back a shot, nearly breaking the glass when slamming it back down. “But nearly everyone here is irresponsible in some way. Even me.” He lifted up and pointed at his empty glass. “I’m drinking our own liquor supply. My point is that you have no experience with imps at all. Devish only come around once a year, hardly anyone can tell you how to care for them or give you the proper resources. You taking in one now would be like learning to doggy-paddle in open water.”

Shoot was surprised that, for once, this conversation wasn’t devolving into Oliver listing off all the tasks in the club he should’ve completed whenever he had free time. So surprised that all the sardonicism melted away from his tone. “So… what do you suggest, then? Y’know, if I wanted to get a devish someday.”

“Start off with a beginner imp,” Oliver responded while pouring himself four more shots. “An impup would be good. Maybe a chirop.” Shot one. “Ahem. Or uh… damn, uh… one of the fluffy ones. Phaloo- Phloop- Oh! Phloofs! That’s the one.”

“You get those from the bun with the leash, right?”

Nerves loosened a bit from the alcohol, Oliver laughed and lightly punched Shoot’s arm. “Their name’s Hutch, you jackass.” Shot two. “But yeah. There’s plenty of good beginner imps at the Imporium. That’s the name of their shelter, by the way. In case you thought it was ‘Bun with the Leash’s Imp Shack.’”

Shoot laughed and gave a light punch to the arm back. “Shut the Hell up, man.” 

Oliver was unfortunately in the middle of shot three when Shoot punched his arm. “Woahhh okay, okay there!” He finished the rest of the shot as well as shot four before continuing. “Listen, if you wanna scope out the Imporium, I may pardon you if you’re late to work tomorrow. But you have to bring me proof you were there or else I’ll report it to the club owner.”

Shoot lit up like the club during one of his sets. “You’re serious?! Since when have you been cool?!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Oliver said as he scooted off the barstool, stumbling a bit when he got on his feet. “I’m gonna go do some last minute stuff and then hit the hay. You go home.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. See ya tomorrow.”

~

Shoot was surprised at how willing Hutch was to give him a tour of the Imporium. Then again, the bun seemed crazy about imps, so he supposed it made sense they’d be so eager to initiate someone else into the world of imp care.

The two walked through the hallway leading to the holding rooms for adoptable imps. Shoot was strolling leisurely with his hands in his pockets behind Hutch, who was nervously flipping through a keyring. Eventually, Hutch spoke up.

“So, hey, um…! Did you wanna see any particular kind of imp in… particular…?” Hutch gritted their teeth and facepalmed, presumably at the usage of the word ‘particular’ twice in that question.

“An imp that’s good for beginners,” Shoot said with a shrug, as if he didn’t really care despite going out of his way across Burrowgatory to tour the Imporium. “Like an impup or chirop.”

“O-oh, ahaha… I wish I had asked earlier, then. I have a volunteer walking all of the impups right now, and the chirops are getting fed. You, uh, don’t want to get in between a chirop and its food…” Hutch raised a finger before Shoot could express disappointment. “But! If you’re looking for a beginner imp, now’s a perfect time to visit the phloofs! I-if you’re interested…!”

“A phloof, huh…” Seemed a bit too cutesy for Shoot’s taste, but he was already doomed to be late to work, and a picture of him and a phloof would be great evidence to show Oliver to prove he didn’t take advantage of his offer. “Sure, why not.”

Hutch gave a sigh of relief. “Great! The ones up for adoption are in this room up ahead.”

The two made their way inside the phloof holding room. They were all the standard color, and more than half of them were asleep.

Shoot rubbed the back of his neck while looking at all the little fluffballs. “So… what’s the deal with these guys? Did they stay up partying or something?”

Chuckling, Hutch gently picked up one of the awake phloofs. “No, they’re just like that. Phloofs like to take it easy. It makes them great companions for people who don’t care for the ‘going outside and playing’ side of imp care. They need playtime, but you can usually do it all indoors.”

“I guess they wouldn’t like loud music, huh. Since they’re so chilled out and all.”

“Hmm… well, maybe some would mind, but… I think a few here might enjoy being surrounded by rhythm like that! Probably more than a lot of imps, actually.”

“Oh. Uh, cool.” Shoot was actually starting to picture himself in the club DJing with a phloof grooving next to him. “Hey, can I hold one?”

“S-sure!” Hutch handed over the one they were holding. They also fished an imp treat out of their pocket. “Try feeding them this, too! I-if you want…”

Shoot took the treat and held it in front of the phloof. The little imp began chowing down immediately, and Shoot couldn't help but smile.

“Guess it likes me.” Shoot patted the phloof’s head. “So… how often do I need to feed it? Y’know, on the off chance I’d get one.”

“Oh, they don't need food to live! We just feed them here for enrichment. Once in a while is enough, even if they try to convince you otherwise.”

“Really? Sweet. Doesn't sound too hard.” He noted that he would just need to keep them away from the club's spare inventory.

Suddenly, a cacophony of clashing and banging noises rang from the hallway. Hutch immediately seemed to know what exact mishap just occurred. “Ah… I… r-really better get to that. Um… before we leave, will you be adopting one of these phloofs today? I don't want to rush you, but it would really help if I know ahead of time.”

“Nah, I just came to scope out imp care stuff,” Shoot said as he gently put the phloof back onto the floor. “I can see myself out.”

As Shoot was about to walk out of the phloof holding room, he felt a tickle on his ankle. Two large white eyes met his when he looked down. The phloof he was holding seemed to be pleading him not to go.

“...”

~

Oliver was busy taking stock of the liquor shelves, making sure to mark the stuff he drank last night under ‘purchase’ and ‘accident’ in equal parts, when Shoot walked in.

“Hey, Ollie. In late, and remember, you promised not to penalize me.”

Not looking away from what he was doing, Oliver sighed. “I remember the deal. I must've been stupid drunk for letting you do that.” The gluttony bun quickly jotted a note in the margins to order more vodka. “That’s only if you have evidence that you went to the Imporium. Do you have any?”

As if on cue, a ball of black fluff entered Oliver's vision, causing him to freeze up. When he finally looked at Shoot, the lust bun was crouched down next to an open cardboard pet carrier.

Oliver visibly untensed with defeat. “...Can you at least get your evidence away from the booze?”