Fluffy Pony Lake (6/8)

>Afternoon of day five.
>It's still drizzling as you return to the island.
>At first, they want to know where their friend has gone.
>”Hooman take fwiend!  Where fwiend go?!” the silver unicorn asks.
>You attempt to explain what you've done, but they all hide from you anyway.
>”No wan' go poofy-bye!” the yellow earth fluffy cries.
>You decide the only way to solve this problem is tell the truth.
>You explain that you took the orange fluffy to a land full of spaghetti.
>motherofgod.jpg
>The fluffies run over to you as fast as their stubby legs will carry them.
>”We wan' go sgetti-wand!  We wan' go!” the earth fluffies cry.
>Well, that was easy.
>Now there's a different issue.
>You want them to go into the crate.
>They don't.
>You discover that herding fluffy ponies is like trying to teach nuclear physics to a goldfish.
>If they're not hugging your legs, they're bouncing around shrieking 'pway wif hooman!' or 'pick fwuffy!' or 'wan' sgettis!'
>You decide to simplify matters.
>After fighting your way to the wooden crate, you tip it upright again.
>Then you begin picking them up and setting them into it.
>”No sowwy-bocks!” the red pegasus screams.
>”Fwuffy sowwy!  No put fwuffy in dawk pwace!” the purple earth fluffy wails.
“Calm down, the box won't hurt you.”
>They don't buy it.  Soon, you have a wooden crate full of crying fluffies.
>”Pwease wet out, fwuffy be good!” they beg.
>You realize you have another problem.
>This box is too damn big to carry by yourself.
>And even if you could get it to the shore, it's not going to fit in your car.
>You hear buzzing and look down into the crate.
>The pegasus fluffies are trying to fly, but they only get about three inches off the bottom.
>”Wet out!  Wet out!  Fwuffy wan' pway outside!” the green one yells.
>You take a minute to consider your options.
>Since the crate has gaps between the planks, it won't fill with water.
>They won't drown.  Theoretically.
>They also won't get themselves hurt by running around.
>Figuring you've bought yourself some time, you go inside to call your friend for help.
>He's got a truck, too, which is a bonus.
>You depart the island, trying to ignore the fluffy cries.

>In the crate, simplistically articulated accusations are starting to fly.
>”You make hooman weave!” the silver unicorn sniffles.
>The two pegasus fluffies are indignant.  At least, they're as indignant as something with an IQ of 12 can be.  ”No, I good fwuffy!  Good fwuffy no make hooman go poofy-bye!”
>”You twy fwy outta sowwy-bocks!” the blue earth fluffy says.
>”Sowwy-bocks bad!  Fwuffy wan' pway!  Fwuffy is good fwuffy!”
>They don't notice the yellow earth fluffy in the corner by herself, shaking furiously.
>They do notice the smell soon after.
>”No smell pwetty!” the green pegasus gasps.  “Fwuffy make poopies in sowwy-bocks!”
>Outright panic sets in.  The yellow earth fluffy sobs, while the others all shove themselves in the farthest corner.
>”Fwuffy bad!  Fwuffy make bad poopies!”
>”Had to!  Fwuffy tummy hurted!”
>”You no s'pose make poopies in sowwy-bocks!”
>She is freaking out at this point.
>”No wan' sowwy-stick!  No wan'!  Fwuffy sowwy make bad poopies!”
>The red pegasus loses her mind when she hears 'sowwy-stick'.
>”We all gon' get sowwy-stick!  We all be in twouble!”
>The fluffies begin screaming to nobody in particular about how sorry and good they are.
>This keeps going until you return with your friend and look in the crate.
“What are you yelling about?”
>They bawl loudly and scream apologies, crowded so tightly into the corner that the yellow fluffy is forced to the center.
>”Move!  Wet in!  Wet in!  Fwuffy no wan' be awone!  Fwuffy not bad fwuffy!  Fwuffy had make poopies!” she cries.
>You see the problem and sigh.
>Your friend is just snickering.
>You have to ask, even though you know the answer.
“Who shit in the crate?”
>The yellow earth fluffy experiences an entirely new level of fear.
>She's so afraid, she lies down and hyperventilates.
>She tries to cover her head with her stubby forelegs, hiccuping a broken series of 'sowwy' all the while.
>When you reach down toward her, she screams and begins to piss herself.
>In reaction, the fluffy ponies huddled together begin shitting everywhere.
>They apologize for this even as they do it, crying and begging for forgiveness.
>This begins a cycle of defecation and remorse that causes your friend to laugh loudly.
>teee-fucking-riffic.mov
>You now have a crate full of crying, shit-covered fluffies.
>The yellow one is still pissing herself and shaking.
>They all implore you to not injure them.
“This is just fucking great.”
>Your tone sends the fluffies into a new round of terror.
>In desperation, they blame the shit, running around and sobbing as they scold their feces for betraying them.
>They reaffirm that they are good fluffies.  They are sorry fluffies.
>Your friend gasps for air as he laughs.
“Well, you're not going to spaghetti land now.”
>They lean up on the side, begging for mercy.
>”Sowwy!  Pwease wuv fwuffies!  Pwease go sgetti-wand!  Pwease no sowwy-stick!”
>The smell is unlike anything you have ever encountered.
>Not even Snowflake's shit stunk like this.
>It's like they have some sort of ability to enhance the stink if they're afraid.
>Perhaps it's evolution's attempt to give them some sort of deterrent against predators.
>Maybe it was a practical joke between gene scientists at the lab.
>You glare down at them, annoyed, as they try to climb out and hug you.
>Hugs fix everything.
“No.  Stay in there while I figure out what to do with you.”
>They take that to mean 'sowwy-stick'.
>Once again, they shit themselves in self-defense.
>Big.  Fucking.  Sigh.
>Your friend looks in the crate while you walk away to think.
>”Hey, why's this one not moving?”
>”Fwiend?  Fwiend?  We sowwy cawl you bad fwuffy!” they all hug the motionless one.  “Pwease hug!”
>It's hard to tell, but finally, you see some yellow through all that brown.
>The yellow earth fluffy scared, pissed, and shat herself to death.
“Let her be.”
>You telling them not to hug her confuses them.
>”Why?  Fwuffies wuz mean to yewwa fwuffy, wan' make betta!”
“You can't make her better.  Just sit in the corner, please.”
>They reluctantly agree, still babbling about how sorry and good they are and not meaning to hug even though hugs fix everything.
>There's no point in explaining this to them.
>Your friend isn't laughing anymore as you send him into your house for gloves.
>The six shitty, fluffy ponies are now five.