Experiment (by Anonymous)

This story was written by a man on /mlp/, whose name is known only to God. Or the admins. Or his family. Maybe his friends. Whatever. His name was Anonymous.

>You're a psychology major.
>Shitty choice, but maybe you can go on to med school.
>You can become a psychiatrist.
>Prescribe yourself some sweet, sweet painkillers.
>Not yet though, have to get that degree first.
>You have an idea for interesting experiment in societal self-awareness.
>You get five fluffy ponies from the adoption center.
>No laws against experimenting on artificially developed animals yet for academic purposes.
>Besides, you think you kinda like fluffy ponies, you're not going to go out of your way to hurt them, though they're probably going to manage to do it on their own.
>But hey, that's what the experiment is about.
>Groups of fluffy ponies always seem to develop a leader, same as most animals, humans included.
>They call it a "smarty friend," though with more Ws because they talk like retards.
>The methods by which this happens and persists haven't been well-documented.
>No time like the present.
>The lady at the adoption center looked at you like you were stupid when you asked for a smarty friend to be in the group.
>She said all they do is lead the others into trouble.
>That's what you've heard, too.
>This smarty's the only fluffy in your group with a name, "Toupee."
>The rest just call themselves "Fwuffy."
>Apparently he picked it himself when he heard the word used.
>It sounded fancy to him.
>He's a gray unicorn with a green mane, and he bosses the others around unmercifully even though they're not in an adoption pen anymore.
>He insists that they pay more attention to him than you, even though you've provided the food and safe room.
>You don't correct him.
DAY 1
>Interesting trait, Toupee has a larger horn than your only other unicorn.
>Is that why he's their smarty?
>You ask the two of them if the bigger horn is the reason, even though the fluffies don't seem to use their horns for anything in particular.
>Toupee immediately seizes on this idea.
>It has clearly never occurred to him before, though.
>He gets in the other unicorn fluffy's face, lording his ever-so-slightly longer horn over him.
>"Toupee biggew hown! Toupee bettah fwuffy dan smaww-hown fwuffy!"
>For some reason the unicorn's hurt reaction doesn't seem to please Toupee.
>He still goes on to yell "Smaww-hown fwuffy bad fow twying have hown!"
>The other unicorn begins to cry.
>It almost seems to give Toupee satisfaction to see the control he has over the other's emotions for a few seconds.
>Then the other fluffies come over, seeing the unicorn crying.
>They supply hugs.
>Toupee immediately steps into his smarty friend role as they try to console their friend, interrupting them.
>He sets them a task of building something with blocks, which they obey as he herds them towards the block corner, even the still-sad little unicorn.
>Interesting.
>You almost want to pet that weeping one and reassure him - damn, these things are cute - but the experiment has to go on without too much interference, for now.
>Before ending observations for today, you stop Toupee for a moment, kneeling and looking him square in the eyes.
>"Wat, hooman?" he demands.
>All the other fluffies have tried to call you daddy, but he seems inclined not to.
>You lay a single AA battery down in front of yourself.
>He regards it. "Wat dat? Toy?"
>"No," you explain. "This is a battery. It's a normal alkaline with a 1.5 volt charge."
>This means nothing to him. He looks at you like you're the stupid one for saying things that don't make sense.
>"That is the exact amount of electricity required to shock a fluffy into forgetting everything but what was bred into it by its designers."
>Part of this seems closer to making sense to Toupee, but you decide to lay it out for him simply.
>The details are all on the audio recorder now, is the main point.
>"If you put this in your mouth, Toupee, you will forget everything. You will be a new fluffy pony."
>This admittedly complicated idea takes a second to penetrate his brain, but once he can hold it for a second, he laughingly says, "Not nummie on bad battewy! Onwy dumb fwuffy wanna no be smawty wike Toupee!"
>He goes back to his overseeing of the block-building.
DAY 2
>You're only allowing yourself one question again, so as do follow its effects narrowly.
>This time you see that the one pegasus pony in your group has learned to climb on their bedding and jump off.
>There probably wasn't enough bedding to do that in whatever pen they were raised in.
>Calling what she does gliding would be too generous, but she can kind of change the way she falls by flapping those stubby wings, and jump higher because of them.
>Other fluffies seem amused by the behavior and cheer her.
>Except for the smarty friend, Toupee.
>He doesn't seem happy whenever she manages to ascend the pillows and jump off, though he hasn't done anything to interfere yet.
>You make your move.
>To the group at large, you ask, "If the pegasus fluffy can do something special with her wings, why isn't she the smarty friend?"
>Falling with style doesn't seem to have anything to do with brains to you, but the fluffies can't figure that out.
>They look at each other, as though repeating your question without words.
>Toupee interrupts loudly.
>"Hooman siwwy! Wingies no get nummies! Smawty fwiends get nummies fow fwuffies!"
>They seem to have nothing to say to this, although the pegasus apprehensively notes about herself, "Wingies good... wike use wingies for show fwiends..."
>The fluffy nearest to her supplies huggies to reassure her. "Fwiends pway good!"
>Other fluffy ponies begin telling each other that they're also good at play.
>Huggies exchanged all around, except for by Toupee, who as usual holds himself apart.
>He looks exceptionally unhappy, then barks "Fwuffies gif huggies Toupee!"
>You've observed that any fluffy pony who approaches any other can usually get huggies for pretty much no reason.
>Demanding them in such a way seems to have put off even the hug-happy fluffies. "Wat?" one asks.
>Toupee stamps a marshmallowy hoof for emphasis, though it's too soft to make any sort of noise.
>"Good fwuffies give huggies. Yoo fwuffies good fwuffies?"
>Huh, inciting actions with questions, is he?
>Maybe you've got more in common with the little bastard than you'd like to admit.
>They each hug him in turn, though he still seems suspicious of their behavior.
>Can he have thoughts complex enough to be imagining a scenario where he loses control?
>Once the tribute of hugs is complete, you kneel down to Toupee's level again.
>One more, you lay down the battery, and explain what it is since he probably needs reminding.
>He doesn't laugh this time, but instead turns his earlier anger on you.
>"Hooman nummie battewy, hooman fowget how be BAD HOOMAN!"
>You don't offer any reprisal.
>The thing has to take its course.
>Besides, at least he clearly understands the concept of the battery reset now.
DAY 3
>The fluffy ponies seem to have gotten the hang of the supplied litter box.
>It's a litte different in shape from what they had in their adoption pen, so at first they made no connection between the objects.
>Once they realized that it made the safe room smell better to use the litter box, they took to it fairly well.
>One of the two earth ponies seems to have some kind of rear-leg injury, though.
>It's a fluffy, the slight limp might have come from abuse, but the more likely culprit is an old accident.
>She gets around fine, but sometimes takes a while to climb into litter box or beding.
>You'd make ramps to both to help, but that would alter the experiment.
>This time the limping fluffy is really having trouble.
>She seems like she has to go a lot, like there's some stomach distress involved.
>That's normal, a fluffy will have an emergency once a day on average.
>She can't quite make it and up over the rim, though, and her back end is sticking off the side...
>"Oh! Oh! OH!" You see her eyes shut tight and she cries, "BAD POOPIES!"
>Bad indeed.
>Somewhat watery shit bubbles out of her, squelching into her back fluff and also coating the floor near the litter box.
>You hear the expected response from other ponies at first, namely a chorus of "No smeww pwetty!"
>They seem to like to inspect the spoor first and smell it before deciding on this for sure, though, so they all check twice.
>Once the smarty friend Toupee has done so, he makes a point of telling the still halfway-in-the-box earth fluffy "Bad fwuffy! Poopies in wittew box!"
>The earth fluffy begins crying.
>Toupee is the first fluffy pony you've seen react with anything other than sympathy for crying - it seems to encourage him to even more bossiness, like it's a reassurance of his powers.
>He bites the earth fluffy's tail and pulls on her.
>She slides off the side of the litter box and into her own diarrhea, getting matted and gross.
>Your heart goes out to it, but for now you have to watch the show.
>"Bad fwuffy diwty!" Toupee proclaims, as though this latter disgusting point isn't partly his fault. "Not poopies in box, den no smeww pwetty!"
>In a way you can see that he's imparting knowledge, but he's doing it in the cruelest way possible.
>No one stops him, because other than him there aren't any confrontational fluffies around.
>How did it come to be this way?
>When the soiled earth fluffy finally stops wailing enough to say "Fwuffy s-sowwy, fwuffy sowwy, wan' be fwiends and smeww pwetty! Be good fwuffy!"
>Upon understanding that she believes herself not to be their friend anymore, all the other normal fluffies try to administer huggies and prove her wrong.
>"No!" he cries at them, hurrying through the shit pool just to block their way. "No huggie diwty fwuffy! Fwuffies get diwty too, no smeww pwetty! Bad!"
>He's saying this as though he didn't tromp over the feces too, but they don't know enough to contradict him.
>He smiles self-assuredly as they wander off to play other games, having given the sad earth fluffy no affection he didn't get.
>But that's where you come in.
>"Why not clean the up the dirty fluffy, so she can smell pretty?"
>It's like seeing a movie's audience get its mind blown by a plot twist.
>The fluffies rally to the filthy pony's aid, helping her waddle over to the bedding, where she lies down.
>They rub themselves against her to try to wipe the crap away, which doesn't help much, but also use their tongues with some success.
>Icky, but you don't chime in.
>The pony being cleaned giggles and is happy to have retained closeness with others.
>Toupee just watches, occasionally informing them how best to go about the cleaning, but he is clearly displeased that the one he meant to ostracize is getting any attention at all.
>You might be imagining it, but under that fluff you think he is shaking with anger.
>Kneeling down to him time.
>Restate the battery information.
>This time Toupee lashes out in more directions.
>"Hooman liaw! Battewy no weal! Fwuffies fowgetting how be fwuffies no weal!"
>Before you can assure him that resets are a real thing, he goes on to say "Give aww bad fwuffies battewy fow nummies!"
>By 'bad fluffies' he clearly means everyone but him.
>You don't respond, so he jumps up and down and insists "Make bad fwuffies fowget bad games! Be good! MAKE FWUFFIES DO SMAWTY FWIEND WOWDS!"
>It's the thing he wants most in the world.
>No surprise there.
>You leave for the day.
DAY 4
>Time to feed the fluffies.
>Lay down big dish of dog kibble.
>Has all the basic nutrients they need, plus you can observe how much each one apportions itself.
>As usual, smarty friend Toupee is forcing others away from where he is eating, to get a bigger share.
>Seems like he's compensating for his recent difficulties, chasing off any other fluffy ponies who want food he can reach.
>Eventually he's eaten his fill, but is still pushing the others back from what he can get his hooves on, sometimes making aggressive noises.
>Does he expect some kind of challenge?
>That seems unlikely, the other fluffy ponies don't seem mad at him, but are clearly concerned with their own well-being.
>"Fwuffy hungwy!" one announces, having barely gotten a few mouthfuls.
>"Need foodies!" another agrees, and he's eying the remainder, though looking away again as though it's impossibly out of his reach.
>Another is not so reticent, approaching Toupee. "Shawe wif fwiends?"
>"NO FOODIES FOW BAD FWUFFIES!" Toupee half-screams.
>His voice is hoarse from his outburst yesterday, it seems, and he almost looks deranged splayed over that food and railing down at the others.
>The sweet-natured pegasus only says "Bad fwuffies?" in a tone that lets you know her heart is breaking at the very thought.
>"AWW BAD FWUFFY PONEHS!" Toupee confirms. "Smawty fwiend find foodies fow fwuffies! Gif smawty fwiend most foodies! Awways gif! Smawty fwiend wike Toupee GET MOST FOODIES!"
>Even if it was more natural to them to argue, they couldn't think of what to say.
>The fluffies have only ever known that smarty friends exist to provide them with food, and what the smarty friends say goes, including how it's apportioned.
>Your move again.
>Time to point out the flaw in his scheme of leadership, not with a question, but a statement.
>"Toupee didn't find this food."
>This time the realization isn't sudden.
>The fluffies look to the food, to Toupee, to each other, to you, even at their surroundings.
>The food was something you laid out, Toupee didn't so much as draw their attention to it.
>The safe room wasn't somewhere he brought them either, nor the bedding something he picked.
>The blocks were already here before they arrived; Toupee wasn't even the one who noticed them, one of the earth ponies did.
>The ball - has Toupee ever even started a game of ball, or just told the fluffies to do things?
>That's when it happens.
>That lame little earth fluffy turns to you instead of Toupee, though you've said nothing to them other than your few questions. "Daddeh, pwease gif fwuffies mo foodies?"
>You planned for this.
>Another handful of kibble comes out of your pocket and you spread it on the ground in front of the group, who rejoice and converge.
>But they don't pile on the food, they give hugs to the limping earth pony who got it for them.
>You expect her to look proud of herself, to act superior or try to take more of the food for herself.
>Surely that's how a smarty friend is made.
>She doesn't, though she just hugs back, then the hugs are exchanged everywhere, in fact, because they see it as a group victory.
>All except for Toupee, still atop his hoard.
>There's no mistaking it now, he's quivering.
>His eyes are teary, he can't deal with what he's seeing.
>They're hugging, they're eating, they're not treating him like he's special.
>They're acting like everyone deserves as much love and attention as he does.
>It's time.
>You plunk the battery down, standing it on its end, and look at him.
>He looks back, with wetness clinging to the fluff around his eyes.
>Before you can do your recitation, he has launched himself off the clutch of kibble and moved as fast as you've ever seen a fluffy move - not that quickly, but still it's a surprise - towards the battery.
>It's in his mouth in a second.
>The tremors he was having stop at once, but his pupils constrict and his poofy hair stands even straighter on end.
>He topples stiffly, like some kind of little fuzzy tree.
>Shit.
>You pull out the battery - good thing he didn't manage to swallow it - and stick it in your pocket.
>Keeping it on his tongue too long might have done permanent damage, and that's not what you have planned.
>Time to take him out of the room, while the others are distracted by food.
>Gently, you lay him on the hard wood of your workbench.
>He's so small, so fragile in your arms, you can't even really hold his outbursts against him.
>Somehow you don't think it was something inside him that made him see himself as different, or even better.
>He just took pride in something once, and it went to his head.
>His poor little head.
>There are so many tools here, sharp tools, long tools, pointy ones, some bright and shiny and some flecked with rust.
>You want the hacksaw.
>You pull it from the peg where it hangs and lay it flat against the very top of the former smarty friend's head.
>Then you take off his horn.
>It's not hard to do, the thing was barely rigid, and wasn't filled with any sort of fluid that you can tell - it just leaves a short stump, easily hidden by the mane.
>You gently rub the fluffy pony's side until he starts to show signs of life again.
>His eyes go up and down your body when he gets control over them again.
>They don't show any sign of recognition.
>"F...fwiend?" he asks tremulously.
>You affirm that this is the case.
>"Whewe fwuffy an' fwiend?"
>You tell him this is his new home, and carry him back towards the safe room.
>He is going to have many new friends, you say, and play with them all he wants.
>The little creature in your arms barely reacts to this news - he seems to be looking around as though he's never been in a house before, astonished at everything you pass.
>Re-entering the safe room, you put him down near the other fluffies.
>They notice, and gather close.
>"This is a new fluffy," you tell them, "Daddy just got him."
>The unicorn says "Too-pay?" because he's just astute enough to recognize the identical coloring of thus fluffy.
>"No," you assure him. "Toupee had a horn, like you. Toupee went away. This fluffy has no horn, see?"
>All look closely to confirm your words.
>It is so.
>The pegasus approaches.
>Your brand-new fluffy pony almost seems apprehensive at all the strangeness around him, but is enveloped in a warm and genuine hug. "Noo fwiend wan' pway?"
>He does.
DAY 5
>Today you set up that ramp for easier litterbox access.
>You also gave the fluffy ponies spaghetti for the first time, they went crazy over it.
>You may have to limit that to being just a treat, they almost overfilled themselves.
>Every one of the little guys thanked you and said they loved you.
>It felt pretty good.
>Not painkiller good, but, you know, decent.
>You've decided that these things don't need to go back to the adoption place now that the experiment's done - you weren't really using this room anyway, and they're so happy in it.
>The one-time smarty friend, not called Toupee anymore, had a clever idea today.
>On watching his best friend, the pegasus fluffy, jump and change her course like she does, he felt concerned.
>Not of the attention she was getting, but because he couldn't jump after her and let them "fwy" together.
>So he politely asked you to carry him down with her as she fell, since you were big and strong enough to manage it.
>And he didn't forget to ask that his other friends get their turns too.
>He was smart about it, but he wasn't selfish, and played in this way for as long as you'd make it happen, quite content to share in the joy.
>It's funny, you could almost believe that he had been reset for real.
>After all, you picked a 1.5 volt battery to just make him feel slightly shocked - that's not nearly enough to actually blank a fluffy pony's memory.

END