Tyrion - Finale

>It's been a year and a half since you brought your fluffy runt, Imp, home
>He's been a constant joy in your life
>Cheeky bastard through and through
>He even learned to ride a dachshund, which you then adopted
>Named him Frankie
>Imp loves to go out on walks with Frankie
>Well, you say walks...
>Truth is Imp rides around on Frankie's back
>Other dogs and owners stare curiously at the duo
>Imp just grins is lop-sided grin and tells Frankie that he's a good doggy
>Your life's pretty damn good
>Until that fateful morning
>Imp had started slowing down over the past few months
>Today it's even worse
>Not even his morning toast can make him move faster
>"Imp no feew good, big man... Imp sweepy..."
>He really doesn't look well
>Frankie is hovering over Imp like a constant defender
"Imp, where does it hurt?"
>"No huwt... Just... Feew wong."
>That's a bad sign
"Imp, I think you need to visit the vet."
>You expect the usual complaints, but Imp surprises you as always
>"Ok big man... Vet make Imp feew betta. Go vet."

>You place Imp in the passenger seat of the car
>Frankie is refusing to leave Imp's side, so you have to bring him along
>You would usually find it surprising that both of them want to go to the vet
>But today you're just too worried about Imp
>You've called ahead, so the vet is waiting for you as you pull up
>Vet's always been nice to Imp, he's one of the few fluffy ponies that are actually a joy to be around
>The Vet takes Imp into his office and places him on the examining table
>Frankie stays on the floor, sitting by the table
>"Hey there Imp, Anon says you're not feeling to good."
>"Imp no feew good. Imp feew weawy wong. Hewp Imp pwease?"
>"I'll do my best, little guy."
>Vet runs all the usual tests
>Imp doesn't even giggle when he's tickled by the stethoscope
>Vet finishes up, then pulls you aside
>"Anon, this is going to be hard to take..."
>Oh God, please...
>"Imp's dying. Fluffy ponies generally don't live too long, and it's rare for runts like Imp to even live THIS long. He's looking at a few more days, tops."
>You've gone completely numb
>"I know it's hard, but we have to talk options. You can either put him down now, possibly saving him days of discomfort, or you can take him home and let him die there."
>You let these words sink in
>Your best friend is dying
>And you decide how he's going to go
"... No. It's not up to me. It's HIS choice."

>The vet nods
>He understands that Imp's comprehension levels are better than the average fluffy
>Whether by teaching, or by some genetic mutation, he has a basic grasp of life and death
>You turn back to Imp and kneel down to talk to him on eye level
>"Hewwo big man... Wat vet say?"
"I... It's not good news, buddy..."
>Imp looks concerned
>"Big man sad?"
"Yeah. Big man very sad... Imp, you're really sick. You have big ouchies in here."
>You pat is whole body, and use fluffy dialect to make him understand
"You... You're not going to be around much longer
>Imp's eyes widen in understanding
>"... Imp go big sweep?"
"That's right... Imp go..."
>You start tearing up
>This is harder than you thought
>"Why big man cwy? Be tuff, big man."
>This breaks you out of your melancholy, and you look straight at Imp's serious expression
>"Imp go big sweep. No wike, no want, but hafta go. Big man no be sad. No cwy. Imp no cwy, see?"
>It's true, his eyes are dry
>"Fwuffy mama go wong sweep. Imp go wong sweep, den Imp see fwuffy mama 'gain."
>You smile softly at his bravery
>You then explain his options
>He can go "long sleep" here, or he can stay at home and sleep there
>Imp makes up his mind
>"Imp go home. Wan' stay wif big man an Fwankie."
>Vet comes back over, scratches Imp behind the ears and starts telling you what preparations to make


>You pay the vet bill and take Imp and Frankie home
>Imp rides Frankie all the way to the car
>Once home, you move Imp's basket out of the safe room, and into yours
>It'll be better for everyone if he's close to you
>Also bring his food and water in, so he can get to it easily
>Lay Imp in his basket, where he sits up and smiles weakly
>Fank'oo big man. Imp wike bedwoom."
>You start fixing him an afternoon snack of his favourite: spaghetti on toast
>You've cut the toast up into small chunks
>Imp's getting too weak to pull pieces off a larger slice of toast
>You stay with him and talk about everything and anything
>Things you both liked to do
>What all his fluffy friends from the park are named
>His favourite ball
>His favourite girl fluffy to have special hugs with
>YOUR favourite girl to have special hugs with
>You both smile and laugh
>Then you have an idea
>Over the years, you and Imp lied making home movies
>Mainly of him stomping around a block city, the tiny toy war-axe from your old knight toy in his mouth
>You would narrate the tails of The Mighty Giant Knight of the Fluff and his journey through the land of blocks
>You set these videos up and watch them til Imp's bed time
>"Big man...?"
"Yeah, Imp?"
>"Can... Can Imp sweep wif yoo? In bed?"
"That's too dangerous, little guy. I might roll on top of you."
>"Den, can big man sweep next to basket? Imp... Scawed."
>You're taken aback
>That's the first time he's ever said that
"Ok, sure. I'll sleep next to you."

>You set up pillows and a quilt next to Imp's basket and lay down
>You lie with him, until he falls sound asleep
>You keep watch over him as he sleeps
>You reflect on how much this tiny little fluffy has changed your life
>You were depressed, miserable
>Then this cheeky bastard comes into your world
>He makes you smile, he gets you girls, he's genuinely wonderful
>All that will end soon
>You keep watch until you too fall asleep

...

>"Big man?"
>Your hear Imp whisper in your ear and slowly wake up
"Imp?..."
>He's lying in his bed, his features slack and barely breathing
>Frankie is there too, whimpering
>You bolt up
"Imp, are you alright?"
>You place a hand on him
>Under his fluff, he's stone cold
>"Imp huwt... Huwt so mush..."
"Hang on Imp, you're going to be alright... You'll be fine..."
>"No... Imp go sweep... Imp kno'..."
>You start to cry, you don't care
"Imp... You know I love you, right little guy?"
>Imp's features soften as he smiles
>"Imp wuv yoo, big man... Big man..."
"Imp, save your strength..."
>"No... wan' tawk... B-big man no fwuffy... But... Big man... Imp daddy. Wuv daddy."
>You're openly weeping
"I'm... Going to miss you Imp."
>"Imp miss daddy... An' Fwankie... Imp wuv Fwankie."
>This can't be happening. It can't...
>"Daddy?..."
"Yes Imp?"
>"Night night, daddy... Imp wuv yoo."
>He breathes out, and doesn't inhale again
>He's gone

>Your face hits the ground as you weep
>Frankie whimpers and howls
>Imp's gone, your best friend is gone
>Nothing can fix that
>You're there for hours, just lying next to him
>Dawn is breaking
>You remember what Imp said in the Vet's
>"Be tuff, big man. Big man no cwy."
>You have to be strong. For him.
>You wrap Imp's body in his blanket
>You put your boots on and go to the back yard
>You get your shovel and begin digging
>You dig in Imp's favourite corner of the yard
>Where he and Frankie would lie after a big game of run-around
>You place Imp's tiny body, blanket and all, in the hole
>You bury your best friend, with Frankie watching on
>You make a mound of dirt to mark where he sleeps
>You go inside and stay there for 3 days

...

4 MONTHS LATER

>Life doesn't seem so hard any more
>You and Frankie live well, for Imp
>You've set up a fluffy obedience school
>Owners and fluffies come from all over to attend the Cheeky Imp school.
>Good fluffies get toast and rides on Frankie
>The fluffies learn to be the best fluffies they can
>The owners ask you how you do it
"I learned from the best; every fluffy needs a little love to be the best they can be."

END