Land Before Fluff

>Deep in the bowels of a ship, a large group of fluffy ponies huddle together for warmth
>The fluffy stowaways cower at each creak of the boat, desperately hugging each other for safety; foals huddle in their mother's fluff, terrified of their own shadows
>Breaking the silence, an old, fat fluffy begins speaking
"Be su nice when hewd ged tu Amewica! Hewd nu hab be scawedy of munstas nu mo'!"
>The herd forgets it fears and begins babbling joyfully at this news; they had almost forgotten about the magic land that awaited them
"Thewe awe nu munstas in Amewica, buh bak in Mumma Wushah…"
>The fluffies quiet at the reminder of their old home, one or two begin to sob
"Ouw hewd was twabehwing thwu da cold white stuff tu Minsk.
Suddenwy, Daddeh saw dose huge hoof prints!
When I hew him scweamin', I went tu scawedy-sweep,
And I woke up wif nu hewd."
>The old, fat fluffy looks very sad for a moment, the other fuffies begin crying or running in circles in panic; one of the fluffy mummas actually passes out
>Suddenly, the old, fat fluffy looks up with joy in his eyes
"Buh…"
>The other fluffies stare at him, their eyes full of hope and their tail's wagging with joy
"Buh…"
>The entire herd begins running in circles, hugging and rolling around on the floor, joining the old, fat fluffy as he begins to sing
"Buh dewe awe nu munstas in Amewica,
And da stweets awe made of skettis!
Oh, dewe awe nu munstas in Amewica,
and fwuffies wiww haff fuww tummies!"
---
>Be an executive a large movie studio, the type with their own office and an unreasonably large desk
>On the other side of your desk sits legendary animator Don Bluth
>And you've just finished watching his pitch for a new animated movie
>You look nervously at the wizened, old man; he stares at you with a large grin, his eyes boring deep into your soul
"…And what did you say this was called?"
"An American Fluff. It's a movie for both fluffies and their owners to enjoy, as well as being a throwback to more traditional hand-drawn animation."
>Your mind begins to boggle at the idea: films aimed at fluffies, a virtually untapped market just waiting to be exploited
>You can see it now: owners taking their puff balls to theaters (which you would of course sell special seats for fluffies), buying up dvds and tie-in toys; this could be the idea that makes you set for life
>Ready to promise him whatever it takes to sign on this movie, you stop as you stare into the cold, dead eyes of the ancient animator, realizing what you're about to agree to
>No, never again
"I'm sorry, Mr. Bluth. But I just don't think this film is right for our studio at this time."
>Mr. Bluth looks a little taken aback by this, but quickly begins pulling something else out of his portfolio
"Well, how about this one? It's called 'All Fluffies Go to Heaven'…"
>You raise your hand like a shield between you and the old man
"I don't think so, Mr. Bluth. There's simply no market for hand-drawn animation in this day and age."
>Mr. Bluth slams his hand on your desk, his face twisted into a hate-filled snarl
"You short-sighted fool! This film could make you wealthier then you ever dreamed! You need this film! I need this film!"
>You press the button labeled "SECURITY" located under your desk and two burly men in suits enter your office and begin manhandling Don Bluth out the door, the aged gentlemen screaming at the top of his lungs
"YOU CAN'T STOP ME! DON BLUTH WILL FEAST ON THE TEARS OF CHILDREN ONCE AGAIN!!!"
>Now alone in your office, you pull out the locket you keep in the top drawer of your desk
>You open the locket and give a mournful smile at its contents: a picture of an Apatosaurus
"That was for you, Mama Longneck. That was for you."