March of the Fluffies - Rural Herd Dynamics

Vanner Fri May 28 16:46:39 2021 UTC | /r/fluffycommunity
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March of the Fluffies: Rural Herd Dynamics
by: Vanner

Your fluff pony idly spins in a circle in front of the TV. She seems to be chasing her tail and humming the intro to her favorite TV show.

“What are you doing?” you ask her.

“Time fow Mawch of Fwuffies!” she says. “Wuv Mawch of Fwuffies!”

Well she’s right, which is a nice change of pace for a fluffy pony. You turn on Fluff TV for your fluffy’s one hour of TV a day.

It opens on a scene of a field somewhere far out west. Trundling through the knee high grass, a few vibrantly colored fluffies lead a large herd of about fifty fluffy ponies.

“Out in the wilds of North America, a herd is on the move.” Morgan Freeman’s dulcet tones and smooth voice pour from your speakers.

On the TV, a grey unicorn stands on a small rock, looking around for signs of obvious trouble. He spots a few bison a hundred or so yards off.

“Fwuffies eat now!” he announces. “Ownly big qwiet fwuffies awound! Bestest gwassies fow mummahs an tuffies! Hidey fweinds on wookout! Bad gwassies foh dummies!”

Brightly colored and neutral colored fluffies pair off and spread out at the edges of the herd with the brightly colored fluffies obviously standing watch. Camouflaged in the tall grass, the muted fluffies stand watch as well.

The camera pans, silhouetting the smarty against the rising sun against the rising swell of music.

"Spaghetti Warehouse presents… March of the Fluffies."

Cue montage of fluffies drowning, walking off cliffs, pummeling each other with ineffective, marshmallow like hooves.

The scene returns to the herd. The grey unicorn eats surrounded by a few enormous earthie fluffies of varying colors.

“Here in the American West,” says Morgan Freeman, “a herd is only as good as its leader. Devoid of human leadership, fluffies will naturally turn to whomever is giving orders, leading to the rise of the Smarty friend.”

The grey unicorn finishes his meal, then begins to walk through the herd. His entourage of earthies follows, as he surveys every fluffy as he passes. Fluffies say “hewwo!” as he passes or “Smawty wan pway?”

He smiles as he passes these fluffies, occasionally stopping to give out hugs or nods of approval.

A few of the fluffies cower before him as he passes. A bright blue unicorn covers his eyes and craps himself in terror as the smarty passes. The unicorn pauses in his survey to regard the cowardly fluffy.

“DUMMEH!” he bellows. You’re sure it’s intimidating to a fluffy, but it’s nothing of the sort to you. “Scawdy poopies? Weawwy? Dummeh fwuffy get owies!”

The big earthies gather round the scared unicorn and begin beating the crap out of him with their hooves.

“A smarty’s retinue of big fluffies are called ‘Toughie Friends’ and are there to enforce the will of the Smarty,” Morgan Freeman explains. “Generally earthies, these brutes are given preferential food, treatments, and mating rights.”

The toughie friends each grab an ear on the unicorn and tug.

“Eeee!” he shrieks. “Pwease nu huwties! Pweae nu owies, tuffy fwiends! No wan be dummeh!”

Shrieking pierces the air and every fluffy head turns to the sound. A moment later a khaki colored pegasus with grass tucked in his fluff emerges from the grass in front of the smarty.

“Fawks munster!” he says. “Gawt pwetty hidey fwiend!”

The unicorn regards him for a minute before making a decision.

“Now it’s time for the Smarty Grey to decide who lives and dies,” says Morgan Freeman. “Does he make the toughie friends earn their keep?”

“Wocks, Twee, move fwuffies hidey pwaces.” The toughie friends drop the unicorn they were beating up and move out to bellow orders to the rest of the herd. The unicorn turns back to the khaki pegasus. “Weaf, teww hidey fwiends faww back,” says Smarty Grey. “Take dummeh fwuffy wif you. He new pwetty hidey fwiend.”

You’ve never seen a fluffy roll their eyes so hard in your entire life, but Leaf obeys and drags the blue unicorn away with him.

“Hidey friends in this herd work in pairs,” Morgan Freeman explains as Leaf jams a few sticks and pieces of grass into the unicorn’s fluff.

“A brightly colored fluffy is paired with an earth toned fluffy to act as the lookouts for the herd. They’ll fill their fluff with grass, sticks, and leaves of the local area to help blend in.”

“Hu hu hu,” he sobs. “No wan be hidey fwiend.” The khaki Pegasus swats him upside the head with a hoof.

“Dummeh Hidey fwiend be quiet!” he hisses. “Nu cwy! Cwy bwing munstahs!” The bright blue unicorn bites his lip to hold in his sobs.

“Shu up, dun cwy, keep eye open,” he warns. “Weaf nu wan owies caus you dummeh! Fin hidey fwiends, bwing back safe pwace.”

Leaf disappears into the grass as the unicorn snivels and blunders through the grass after him.

“What the brightly colored hidey friends don’t realize,” says Morgan Freeman, “is that their job is less about hiding and more about being bait.”

A fox leaps from the underbrush to pounce upon the bright blue unicorn a few moments later. There’s a squeal, followed by sobs of pain. The khaki Pegasus doesn’t even turn back as he continues to move through the high grass.

The fox holds the fluffy in his jaws just off the ground as his legs pedal in terror.

“EEEEEEE!” he shrieks. “Weaf! Hewp fwuffy! Fawk munster! Weaf? WEAF! PWEASE NU WEAVE!”

Leaf is now invisible in the long grass, gone without a trace. The fox drops the unicorn and yips into the grass.

“Predators of the American West have learned that fluffies spoil quickly,” says Morgan Freeman, “and normally paralyze their victims by severing the spinal cord. They’ll start by eating the legs, keeping the fluffy alive as long as they can.”

A litter of fox kits emerge from the grass to surround the sobbing unicorn.

“This one, however, is training for the next generation, and will have a much worse time of it.”

The camera tilts towards the sky, leaving the screams of the unicorn to echo into the transition to night. It tilts down again to reveal a circle of young fluffies sitting before a dark green unicorn.

“Gwassies aways gud fow fwuffies,” she says. “Nu eat gwassies to diwt. Diwt yicky and gwassie nu gwow back so nu gwassies wateh. Fwowers nu gud fow nummies, buh can eat sum if bewwy huwties. Big wong white fwowers nu gud. Gif big sickies and wong sweeps.”

The young fluffies sort of listen as the unicorn explains more about flowers, grasses, and plants.

“A rare site for herds is the story friend,” says Morgan Freeman. “Not found in small herds, the story friends are fluffies that are smart enough to remember what’s happened to the herd before, along with information passed down through the oral tradition of fluffies.”

“Stowy fwiend teww you scawy stowy now,” she says. “Taiw of Asshow! A hoomn munsteh dat gif wowst owies to fuwffies he say he twy to hewp!”

“Not every generation will have a story friend,” Freeman explains. “In fact, most fluffies learn nothing from of these stories because their memories just aren’t good enough. But for the ones that do, it helps the herd remember what to do in hard times.”

The scene shifts to the starting snows and of dozens of fluffies trudging through the tall grass. Many fluffies drag tall stalks towards a large pile of grass stashed in an abandoned farmhouse. The story friend stands next to the smarty, directing him what to do next

“Too maneh fwuffies fow cowd times,” she says. “Nu haf nummies fow aww. Wess fwuffies haf wongest sweeps in cowd times. You know wat do.” The unicorn nods in agreement.

“This is the third winter for this Smarty Grey,” says Morgan Freeman. “He’ll knows he’s going to lose up to half of his herd, and it’s time to make decisions on who’s likely to survive and who’s not.”

The last of the fluffies drop their grass into the enormous pile, and gather outside to where the smarty is standing on an old box.

“Wisten up!” he yells. “Smawty fwiend tank you fow you hawd wok. Tuffie fwiends do gud jawb. Hidey fweinds du gud jawb too. Stowy fwiend gif good stowies! Gif huggies to fwiends! Dey bestest fwuffies! Bestest fwuffies git bestest nummies and bestest speciaw fwiends!”

The rest of the herd enthusiastically gives hugs to the mentioned “fwiends” before they move to the front of the herd near Smarty Grey.

“It may not be obvious to the casual observer, but here Smarty is dividing his heard into tiers,” says Morgan Freeman. “The alpha fluffies are the named friends. They’ll get the first choice of food during the winter, first choice of breeding come spring, and they’ll sleep in the middle of the fluff pile during the winter.”

“Fwuffies dat hewp bwing nummies, gud jawb!” he continues. “You aww gud fwuffies. Nu as gud as bestest fwiends, buh gud fwuffies. Nu wan babehs in cowd times, so nu spechaw huggies tiww cowd time oveh. Bests fwiend gif huggies to gud fwuffies!”

“Here, Smarty address the beta fluffies,” says Morgan Freeman as the Alphas distribute hugs to the rest of the herd. “They’ll get second choice on food, and whoever remains for mating in the spring. Most importantly, it’s up the Alphas to decide on who the betas of this herd are. Disaster awaits Smarty Grey if he picked ineffective Alphas, as the Alphas choose who’s going to survive the winter.”

The Alphas move out and select their friends and good workers from the rabble of fluffies, notably avoiding sick, old, or injured fluffies. More importantly, they avoid fluffies that haven’t participated in the food gathering efforts. Hugs are delivered and the beta fluffies move in with the alphas.

“Dummeh fwuffies nu hewp bwing nummies, nu haf pwace wiff hewd for cowd time!” says Smarty at last. “Nu git nummies fow cowd time! Dummeh fwuffies nu pawt of hewd nu mow!”

There’s crying and wailing from the rejects. A big blue unicorn puffs out his cheeks and stamps his feet.

“Sentenced to death without the herd for the winter, these gamma fluffies will almost always put forth a challenge to the smarty’s rule.”

“Smawty Gwey am dummeh!” the blue unicorn shrieks. “Bwubeww am new smawty! Gif Smawty Gwey biggest owchies!”

He points a hoof, expecting to be obeyed, and a few of the rejects come forward to support Bluebell’s claim. Except these aren’t just lazy fluffies that didn’t follow orders; these are the sick, infirmed, and old fluffies on their last legs. The best and biggest among them take up positions beside him and puff out their cheeks. Smarty just looks down his nose at them, then points a hoof directly at Bluebell.

“Biggest owies fow dummeh.”

“The new leader of the herd will be decided shortly,” says Morgan Freeman. “A good smarty will let underlings earn their keep, as a good toughie friend will happily give their lives for their smarty.”

What happens next is typical of a fluffy pony battle. Two sides charge at each other, collide, and fall to the ground. A few bites, a few soft hoof slaps, and many on both sides are crying and covering their eyes. The big toughie friends are the only ones left standing after a few moments of fighting, and they’re easily pummeling the upstart’s new legion.

Smarty has disappeared from the battle, leaving Bluebell to stand around looking smug. He hasn’t raised a hoof to help his toughie friends, even though they’re badly losing the battle.

“But a good leader knows when to take action personally.”

Smarty comes leaping from behind Bluebell and drives him to the ground with the force of his impact. Grey bites an ear and tosses Bluebell onto his back.

You’re expecting a typical fluffy fight with Bluebell getting smacked around a bit before crying in submission, but what happens next is so fast, you don’t even have enough time to cover your fluffies eyes from the violence.

Grey lunges at Bluebells face and grabs his eye in his teeth. With a hoof on Bluebells muzzle, he yanks his head back and tears Bluebells eye straight from the socket with a sickening ripping sound.

“Nuuu!” your fluffy shrieks and cover he eyes. “Nu eybaww huwtie!”

She doesn’t see Grey repeat the process with the other eye, leaving Bluebell a blinded, shrieking, and defecating wreck upon the ground. Grey spits out the eye, then stomps it into the ground.

“Dummeh fwuffies go way naow,” he says just loud enough to be heard. “Go way naow ow biggest owies.”

The gamma fluffies pick themselves up and flee as fast as their stubby legs will carry them. The vastly reduced herd looks on in silence as the toughie friends drag Bluebell away from their building by the ears. There’s a few more thumps and cries from off camera before the toughie friends return to the waiting herd.

The camera cuts back to Bluebell, sobbing and blinded, stumbling through the grass. It follows for him a bit, the snow gathering along the grass before he runs into a bison. He feels its leg for a moment, then has a smile of recognition.

“Big fwuffy wan be fwiend wif Bwuebeww?”

The bison responds with a grunt and crushes Bluebell beneath an enormous hoof. The blue unicorn gurgles and chokes with a death rattle for a full minute before he finally stops breathing.

The camera slides to the left and zooms out. Atop a mahogany desk set in the snowy grass is an adorable grey spider fluffy wearing a green toboggan. Behind the desk, wearing a smart grey tweed, is Morgan Freeman.

“Life is hard for feral herds deep in the American West,” he says. “Even by sending a third of his herd onto an uncertain fate, even by recycling their waste as a food supply in late winter, some of the herd will not make it through the winter.”

“Fluffies that can think that far ahead are rare and make admirable leaders in absence of humans. They’re so far out their programed environment that the fluffies are making up their own rules as they go along. They’ve become part of the landscape as much as the elk or bison and have found their place in the web of life.”

“This concludes our series of March of the Fluffies. On behalf of Spaghetti Warehouse, Fluff TV, myself, and Miss Muffet here,” he pats the spider fluffy’s head. “I’d like to wish you all a wonderful evening. Thank you for joining us, and goodnight.”