A quick little something I whipped out after I thought "What if there wasn't a person in a fursuit? What if it was a robot?!" And thus, this story was born.
I picture Joseph as an android that has really tight fur covering him, and his frame would look like a fursuit ready to be furred, except he'd be made of silver metal, not foam. That's right, he'd have those big, cartoony eyes in his head. He doesn't mean any harm, honestly.

Now with illustrations!! http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2135968/
Part two
Part three

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It was day two at my local furry convention, and I had just left the artists alley. I was going through a number of halls, to see if I could snag something good to eat from a restaurant in the hotel. I carried my a plastic bag under my arm, filled with artwork I had commissioned, a pair of cat ears, and a number of conbadges. I was in a small hallway, about 6 or seven feet wide, making my way near the pool, when I was tapped on the shoulder from behind. I turn around, my faux cat tail swishing behind me, and look who it was. It was a good sized Huskie fursuit, well made, but very generic looking.
"Hey!" I said, in a friendly tone. I didn't recognize him, so I asked
"What's your name, huskie-wuskie?"
I had gotten used to talking like that during the three-day long event. It had become nearly natural, and was almost an automatic adjustment I made between talking with other fursuiters and regular people.
The huskie doesn't speak, but points proudly to his chest. I look closely and see a badge that said "Joseph Wuff" on it, with a huskie leaning over the ballooned letters that looked exactly like the suit the guy was wearing.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wuff!" I say enthusiastically.
The huskie clasps his hands over his muzzle and sheepishly bows when I say this. I thought it was cute. I smile and laugh a bit at his antics. He was a good performer, the act was nearly perfect. He doesn't make a sound, not wanting to break the illusion. He motions for me to come over to him, so he can give me a hug.
"Aww, how can I say no to such a cute puppy?" I set my bag down on the side of the hall and approach him, arms spread wide, ready to receive another fuzzy, furry hug from another fursuiter. He embraces me intensely, and gives me a good squeeze.
"Aww..." I exclaim as he rocks back and forth.
"Wow, he's really good at this." I think to myself.
I go to pull away, but he doesn't let go.
"Alright, that's enough" I say, but he doesn't listen. He just hugs me tighter. I look into the eyes of his suit, hoping to nonverbally tell him to stop, but he ignores me and keeps hugging. I squirm a little, trying to get free. "Thanks for the hug, Joseph..." I say as I try to wriggle out of his arms, but he doesn't let go. I try to push away from him, and knock him slightly off balance by accident. He lets go of me as he tries to stay on his feet. I step quickly back and grab my bag of goodies off the floor before I look at him again. He's back upright, and he adjusts his head a little.
He comes at me, prepared for another hug, but I start to walk backwards, eager to get away from him. "I know some suiters like to give hugs, but this is too much" I say aloud. He keeps moving towards me, and tries to grasp me again. But this time I fight back.
"Stop it, Joseph, you're really annoying me!" I say, as nicely as I can, without sounding mean. He acts as if he heard nothing, and I think I might have to hit him to keep him away. I don't take kindly to over-physical fursuiters. I need my personal space, and this guy won't leave me alone. I will get nasty if you bug me enough, and I've just about reached my limit with this wolf.
He tries to hug me with open arms again, but I hit him in the chest with a half-hard punch. I don't want to hurt the guy inside the suit. I was sure the floof of his suit would absorb most of the impact. He stumbles backwards, but doesn't seem to be affected by it too much. He comes back at me, but this time with more force. That's it. This guy has crossed the line, and doesn't get the message. I hit him square in the stomach with a hard left hook. He stumbles and falls on one knee, but gets up again. My hand hurts after punching him.
"He must work out" I say, massaging my stinging knuckles. He's up and at 'em again, and this time I hit him in the thigh with my foot, almost a full-foot stomp right onto his fibia. I fall onto my back, his thigh not giving me a break. My shin hurts a lot. I grab it, and shut my eyes, the word ow repeating in my mind. I head footsteps, and open my eyes just in time to roll out of the way of this guy. I scramble to my feet, and make a final decision. If I'm gonna stop this guy, I'll have to do the one thing no one should ever do to a guy in suit. I'd have to take his head off. Not his actual head, but his fursuit's head. He makes what should be his final pass, and I pull my hand close to my chest, and with as much force as I could muster, lever my elbow straight up into the jaw of his suit. The hit connects beautifully. I feel my elbow cleave up into the foam jaw of Joseph Wuff. But as it goes, I hear and feel something off. There comes the sound of bending metal, and sparking wires being pulled apart. I open my eyes, having had them shut so I could focus entirely on the hit, and what I see boggles my mind insanely.
Where there should have been a human neck was a series of wires and metal, being pulled apart by the force of my hit. Sparks fly and I hear discordant noises come from the disconnecting wires and bending metal. His neck bends backwards as the head approaches a 45 degree angle. His arms sprawled out, like any person when you deliver a knockout blow. His, or should I say, it's, head flies off and lands several feet away in the empty hall, the sound of its hits echoing off the sparse walls as it comes to a stop.
I quickly step back as I watch the now headless body twitch, spark and move about, now missing any sort of control module, which I now surmised had been the head, now sparking on the hall floor. The body makes jerky, uncoordinated movements as it steps about, not having a clue about its direction, its arms pointed ahead, with its furred fingers fanned out, like a Frankenstein's monster. Each movement is accompanied by a now obvious whir or whizzing noise made by the metal joints and motors I'm sure were underneath the fur. The body is harmless now, as it has no directions on how to move, or what its objective was. I approach it and place my hand on its chest, and push. The furred machine falls over, it's spurtive limb movements trying to get it back on its feet, to no avail. It still twitches and sparks, but the sparks soon stop, and it makes computer like sounds when it tries to move where the head used to be, the bits of leftover neck twitching about. I hit it in the chest, and it ceases movement, and slows down to a stop while making garbled noises. I, still in a daze about what just happened, snatch the con badge off the now motionless furry body. I don't know what to do, so I open the nearest closet door and drag the lifeless machine into it, being sure to close the door silently. I open my backpack, and slip the machines head into it, something in me telling me to keep it. I zip the bag up, brush quickly down the hallway, get to my room, slam the door, lock it shut, and lay down on the bed, with my backpack next to me.
I open the pack, take out the fursuits head, and look deep into its eyes.
"Who made you?" I wonder out loud.