March of the Fluffies - Garden Fluffy

Vanner, April 29, 2013; 22:39 / FB 10557
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March of The Fluffies, Part 3

>Just got home from work.
>Long day, but it's okay, because now it's time for one of your favorite shows…
>The intro music starts playing followed by that dulcet voice of one, Mr. Morgan Freeman.
>"Spaghetti Warehouse presents… March of the Fluffies."
>Cue montage of fluffies drowning, walking off cliffs, pummeling each other with ineffective, marshmallow like hooves.
>With your recliner in maximum lounge mode, your fluffy pony bounds into the room and plops down in front of the TV.
>"Show stawtin!" she cheers. "Daddy wook! Show stawtin!"
>"Settle down sweetie, or you'll miss it."
>The view pans slowly to the left, revealing nothing more than patches of flowers and stalks long grass.
>But what's this? There's a patch of flowers moving of its own volition.
>What is this sorcery?
>"Here in the rainy fields of Oregon, we find the rarest of the still living fluffy pony…"
>A filthy, fluffy face pops up from beneath the grasses, and stares directly at the camera.
>"The Garden Fluffy."
>The garden fluffy continues to stare at the camera, never breaking eye contact as it pans around him.
>"Some think that the garden fluffy is yet another creation of the Has-bio Lab staff, but leading fluffologists tell us a different story."
>The scene shift to a man in a trucker's hat with thick plastic glasses.
>"Asshowe!" yells your fluffy pony.
>Man, where'd she learn that?
>"Evidence suggests that the garden fluffy is actually a product of environmental factors," says the man. "They, at heart, a regular fluffy pony."
>He leads the camera over to a table where a Garden Fluffy sits in a pile of mulch with an expression of vague happiness.
>Its entire head has been opened up to reveal a brain teaming with green tendrils.
>The garden fluffy either hasn't noticed, or doesn't care.
>The man continues to prattle on with big scientific word and gestures, but the audio returns to Mr. Freemans kind words.
>"Fluffogists tell us that a parasitic fungal infection from deep in bayous of the south is to blame for the Garden Fluffy."
>"By altering the fluffy's brain chemistry, the fungus slows their heart, slows their digestion, slows everything about them."
>The scene returns to the man, now sewing the garden fluffy's head back together.
>"And that's how the garden fluffy came to be," he finishes. "Now let me show you this fluff enhancer…"
>The scene returns to the garden fluffy trundling through the fields of Oregon.
>Instead of constantly eating, he instead picks up things from the ground and puts them atop his mud covered fluff.
>"This will go nicely," says the garden fluffy to no one in particular. It rolls off a moment later without notice.
>"The garden fluffy spends its days quietly wandering the fields and valleys of the country side, looking for things to grow upon it's back. The roots dig deep into the fluff, and become part of the wandering biome that is the garden fluffy."
>The scene speeds ups, following the garden fluffy over the course of several days. In that time, he makes a small circle around the field only once.
>It returns to normal time as a herd of fluffy ponies comes wandering up the side of the hill.
>Being normally fluffies, they babble, eat, and shit all over everything they can get to.
>It's only a moment before they find the garden fluffy making it's slow circle across the field.
>"Fwiend?" asks a pegasus fluffy. He sniff the garden fluffy, who only smiles blankly at him. "Fweind nu smeww pwetty."
>"I will be your friend," replies the garden fluffy.
>To this, the herd cheers and starts eating around the garden fluffy.
>"Garden Fluffies will befriend regular fluffies, not for the sake of companionship, but for their valuable fertilizer."
>The scene follows the fluffies playing, eating, mating, and generally making a nuisance of themselves around the stoic, but smiling Garden Fluffy.
>While the fluffies aren't paying attention, the garden fluffy rubs some of the fluffy's waste on the great mass of life upon his back.
>Over the next few days, the fluffies move on, the garden fluffy following behind at his own plodding pace.
>Ahead of him, the fluffies continue to eat, play, and destroy everything in their path.
>They also fall in every hole, puddle, trap, along the way, as well as getting mauled by cats, coyotes, dogs, and aggressive rabbits.
>But the garden fluffy trundles on past the drowned, broken, and flaming corpses of the fluffies he follows, till they make it into a suburban backyard.
>The garden fluffy finds his way into a pile of mulch and sits quietly as the fluffies raise hell.
>"In typical fluffy fashion, the herd has sown their own seeds of destruction…"
>"Dis fwuffy wand now!" cries a smarty friend.
>You cover your fluffy pony's eyes so she doesn't watch the scene of a home owner disemboweling the fluffies with a rake.
>"…but the garden fluffy's quiet nature shields him from the rage and hatred of the home owner."
>The homeowner approaches the garden fluffy, his rake spattered with the gore of a dozen fluffies.
>"Hello, friend," says the Garden Fluffy. "You have so many flowers. I love this place. I love you too. I'm going to live here in your mulch pile."
>"Go away," says the human.
>"Okay."
>With that the garden fluffy slowly walks away from the yard, pausing only to drag a still twitching fluffy pony with him.
>Eventually, the garden fluffy comes back to his field and drops the near dead fluffy pony in a hole.
>”…wan…. Die…” babbles the fluffy.
>”In the common fluff pony, that wan die loop means that the fluffy believes his life is over,” says Morgan Freeman.
>The garden fluffy starts stuffing tufts of his fluff into the fluffy pony’s mouth, and finishes by burying the in the garden fluffy’s waste.
>”But for the garden fluffy, it is the start of a new life.”
>The garden fluffy wanders away from the body of the fluffy to seek out new fields, leaving the fluffy to die in a hole.
>The scene time lapses a day forward, where we see the fluffy pony rising from the hole, and staring out into the world.
>But he looks different now.
>The dirt and feces stick to his fluff better than before.
>Traces of moss begin to grow about his back and eyes.
>The fluffy pony looks out onto the world, and starts picking flowers to lay upon his back.
>The camera pan back to Morgan Freeman, now sitting in a red leather chair in the middle of the field.
>”And thus begins a new generation of Garden fluffy,” he says, with a tip of his pipe. “Join us next week when we explore the rituals of the sacred and mysterious fluffallo.”
>”Here, on March of the fluffies.”