Help Is a Relative Term (Short)

>Damn clothes dryer is broken again.
>While you're waiting for it to get fixed, you have to dry your clothes on the old line out back.
>One day, you take your wicker basket out so you can retrieve your shirts.
>You are greeted by the sight of a purple fluffy pegasus, hanging on the line by her front legs.
>”Hewp fwuffy!” she yells.
>It's your idiot neighbor's fluffy.
>This is the fourth time this week she's ended up in your backyard.
>Her managing to catch the line is new, though.
>How did she even get up there?
>The line is at least six feet off the ground.
>Figure it must have been a lucky glide from the maple tree in idiot neighbor's backyard.
>”Pwease hewp fwuffy, no wan' faww!  Too high!” she yelps again, her stubby forelimbs scrambling for grip.
>Her little wings flap desperately.
>She even bucks the air with her rear legs.
>That's probably not helping her maintain her hold.
>”Hewp!  Pwease hewp fwuffy!”
>You set the basket down and look at her.
“Relax, I won't let you fall.”
>”Fank you!” she bleats happily.  “Fwuffy wuv fwiend!”
>You take down a couple of your shirts and set them in the basket.
>You hold those clothespins in one hand and lift the flailing fluffy off the line.
>She is, of course, ecstatic.
>”Fank you fwiend!  Fwuffy scawed, no wan' faww down!”
>You just nod a little as you pin her tail to the line.
>”Wha?  Owwies, taiw huwt!  Why stiww high?  Why no hewp fwuffy go down?!”
>You detach the rest of your clothes and head back inside, leaving the wobbling, sobbing fluffy on the line.
>Maybe this will deter her from flying, since your idiot neighbor seems to lack the capacity or willpower to teach her fluffy herself.
>You'll come back and check on her in an hour or so.
>And besides, you told her you'd keep her from falling, not that you'd get her down.