//------------------------------// // Fluffalump // Story: Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Realisations brought regrets, and regrets only brought further realisations, setting off a cascading series of events from which there would be no recovery. Skyla wouldn’t be little for much longer and she would become like Flurry Heart—sweet, adorable little Flurry Heart who would rather die in unspeakable agony than take a nap with her father. Standoffishy little Flurry Heart who had to be caught unawares somehow to be hugged. This was the cost of having little fillies; all too soon they ceased being little fillies and for a time, became something else, something monstrous and unmentionable, something that even the Elements of Harmony were powerless against. His father had tried to warn him, but Shining Armor had failed to listen. When Flurry Heart—his sweet little Fluffalump—got it into her head one day that she was done being a filly, Shining Armor’s heart had been broken. It seemed that, overnight, Flurry had decided that she was too big for snuggles, cuddles, naps, hugs, kisses, and things of this nature. As for these things happening in the public view… doing so caused Flurry to go into great bellowing tirades about how her life was over and how she could never show her face in public ever again—OH MY GOSH, DAD, STOP THAT RIGHT THIS MINUTE. “Hey, Dad! Stop staring into space and look what I can do!” With a turn of his head, Shining Armor saw Flurry Heart menacing herself with a coconut. A peeled coconut, with all of the green fibery husk stuff removed. Before he could say anything, before he could say stop or summon parental authority, Flurry, who held the coconut in her hoof, jam-slammed the coconut against her head with a terrific coconutastic thwack. Much to his shock and awe, the coconut cracked and Flurry rushed to catch the dripping coconut milk with her tongue. “Flurry, darling… Fluffalump—” “Dad, we talked about that. Don’t call me that.” Coconut milk dribbled down Flurry’s chin while she gave her father a stern look of disapproval. “I never agreed to anything,” he replied, shaking his head to and fro, side to side. “Fluffalump… that worries me. Who taught you to do that?” “Mom!” Holding out her dripping coconut, she pointed at her mother, whose muzzle was buried in a sheaf of papers. “Cadance, darling… Cadance… Cadance!” “What?” The folder of papers was lowered and Cadance’s reaction was hidden by her big, oversized, white-framed sunglasses. “I was reading. I’m sorry, what’d I miss?” “Cadance… did you teach our lovely daughter how to crack open coconuts with her skull?” As bad as the question was, Shining Armor feared the answer even more. “Sure did!” Cadance’s square white teeth came out of hiding and the most unnerving grin could be seen. “She’s a hard-headed little cuss! It’s cool, isn’t it?” A few yards away, Skyla sat in the sand snickering, building her sandcastle, the very same sandcastle that she insisted that she do alone, because it had to be perfect. With another mighty conk-a-bonk, Flurry rammed her coconut into her skull, and this time, it split right in half. Another in a long line of realisations, Shining Armor discovered that he was alone, a lone stallion pitted against two daughters and a wife. Mad creatures, all of them. Grinning like mad, Cadance took off her designer sunglasses, conjured up a coconut, held it in her hoof, and with a fluid, well-practiced motion, made it collide with her skull. It cracked like an egg—the coconut, not her skull—and leaning her head back, she allowed the coconut milk to pour into her open mouth. It was somehow more magnificent when she did it, and Shining Armor could tell that Flurry’s act needed work. But did he dare encourage her? What sort of father would he be? Now, Flurry was peeling out great big chunks of coconut flesh and eating them with gusto, which rather left Shining Armor with a hankering for coconut. There was only one thing that could be done in this situation, only one sane course of action left to a father at the end of his wits. “Fluffalump… may Daddy have some of your coconut? Please?” “Only because you said please,” was Flurry’s cheerful reply, made with her mouth full, and she tore out a massive chunk of coconut flesh for her father. “Now stop calling me Fluffalump.” “Thank you.” Yet again, Shining Armor agreed to nothing, and would continue to acknowledge his beloved Fluffalump by her rightful and proper name. As the afternoon began its slow shift into evening, balmy breezes blew over the island and way off in the distance, the whistle for the rum distillery blew, signaling that the workday was over. The shadows were all growing long and the first of many bright lights were turned on, preparing for what was sure to be yet another exciting night. It was just about perfect, and Shining Armor couldn’t think of anything more relaxing. Airships approached and departed from the skyharbour, and seafaring ships did the same from the marine harbour. This island was one big military installation, a fortress on the sea, and was one of the few places where Shining Armor felt truly safe. He could relax his guard, just a little, and have a little fun. “Shiny… I’ve been reading…” He didn’t even bother resisting. “Yes?” “Incompatible backgrounds… the data seems unreasonably high for ponies who have vastly different backgrounds… divorce rates are far, far higher and from the looks of things, these marriages are doomed to fail without some means of marital counselling. The numbers are scary. While variances in background do lead to some attraction in the short term, in the long term, these differences cause conflicts and irreconcilable differences.” While watching a massive aerial battleship floating above the water reservoir, Shining Armor thought about what his wife had said. Of course the data would show this, it seemed like the only reasonable outcome. Why would this be a surprise? Unless, of course, there was more to the data, stuff he hadn’t seen, and Cadance hadn’t told him about. Like attracts like. His parents were a good example of that. Twilight Velvet and Night Light were tireless crusaders to the cause of good; both of them were dedicated and devoted servants to the public betterment. They got along like a house on fire and the flames of their marriage burned hotter than ever. “So then,” he said, still thinking. “A pegasus filly orphan who was raised by earth pony peasants, she would have no chance at all with a cosmopolitan, urbane unicorn that came from a life of wealth and privilege in the big city? This union would be doomed?” Even as he said it, he wondered if there might actually be some trouble in their future—a spectre of doubt now haunted the passages of his grey matter. “Shining Armor”—Cadance’s voice was a shrill whine of protest—“be serious. I have to fix Equestria’s marriage problems somehow. We’re facing a public crisis. The data clearly shows that. This is a crisis of family values… and the core causes of this problem must be found, explored, and alleviated somehow. Twilight Velvet says that the number of foals in Crown care grows with every passing year. In our largest cities, the number of families are on decline. Divorce rates are the highest they’ve ever been. The sheer number of ponies who come to me seeking love threaten to break the system. If the numbers keep growing at their current geometric rate, the mass-weddings I do in the Crystal Empire will see over one million attendees within ten years.” “One million attendees in total, or one million attendees all at once?” “We’ve already had over a million attendees over the years,” Cadance replied, clarifying. “That many? Already? Really?” Shining Armor tried to run the numbers through his mind and failed. Had the crowds been that large? “You sound doubtful.” “I am doubtful.” “Shiny, the data is very thorough. Don’t you trust it?” “Cadance, I don’t trust anything until Dim has thoroughly interrogated it, made it scream a few times, and broken its will. That I trust. Everything else, I remain a bit skeptical. Just look at the example I just used. We come from very different backgrounds, and we’re doing just fine. But now I am fearful that we might not be fine, thank you very much for bringing that up.” “Oh, that’s positively ghastly,” Cadance retorted and she gave her head a vigourous shake. “Look, I told you, I don’t want to know what you and Dim have to do in the name of security—” “And I didn’t want to get worked up and anxious during my vacation, but somepony just had to bring their work with them, because they lacked the self control to leave it at home.” He drew a deep breath and was about to say more, but Cadance cut him off. “Anecdotal evidence is not necessarily evidence. Just because you and I enjoy a good, healthy, positive marriage, even with both of us coming from very different backgrounds, doesn’t mean that everypony else does. You can’t just dismiss the numbers with a hoof wave or make a joke about how it doesn’t apply because it doesn’t seem to be affecting us. That’s exactly why the problem has grown out of control, everypony is too busy offering up their own anecdotal evidence that everything is fine and nothing needs fixing!” “If you present statistics in just the right way, you can make molehills appear as mountains. All statistics are inherently biased, especially if those statistics are calculated to support an agenda. Cadance, if there wasn’t a crisis, if there wasn’t a huge, looming crisis, then many of your social workers would be out of work—” “Are you suggesting that they lied or fudged the numbers to create more work for themselves?” “Well, no, I—” “Answer me!” A very polite throat-clearing caused both Shining Armor and Cadance to pause. Skyla stood a few yards away, covered in sand, and she had an austere, stern expression upon her adorable, foalish face. Skyla snorted and a look of supreme disgust could be seen flashing in her eyes. “Both of you need a time out. This angry shouting has to stop. Be adults, both of you. Apologise to one another. Now.” “This filly of mine,” Cadance said to Shining Armor in a low voice, “I can’t even sometimes.” “She gets it from you,” he replied. “Does not, don’t you dare pin that on me, Shiny. That’s all you, Mister Military.” “Ahem!” Skyla stomped her hoof in the sand, but it didn’t make much of a sound and she snarled in frustrated failure. “I am a filly in dire need of din-din. Now shut up, both of you, and apologise!” “See, Shiny, that’s you!” “No way.” He gave his head an emphatic shake. “Always taking ponies to task—” “Well that’s my job, Cadance! You’re the busybody, she gets this from you.” “I am so unbelievably disappointed with both of you right now,” Skyla interjected. “Shining, don’t ever question the professionalism of the ponies who work for me—” “I wasn’t trying to do that”—it was at this point that Shining Armor knew that he had done exactly that—“I was just trying to get you to view the data with a skeptical eye.” “What good is having all of this data assembled and collated if I just dismiss it outright? Do you have any idea how monumental this project is, and how much work goes into it? What is the point of all of this work if I don’t trust the results?” “All of this could have been avoided if you’d left that work at home and let me enjoy my vacation.” Try as he might, Shining Armor found no enjoyment in his pyrrhic victory, and seeing Cadance’s mouth hanging open in a round ‘O’ brought him no satisfaction. “Apologise.” Skyla’s commanding tone grew more insistent. There was no shame in raising a white flag and Shining Armor reminded himself of that. This was one of those situations where he could be right, or he could be happy. Cadance was a princess, and as such, she never truly stopped working. This was just how it was. Together, they were Emperor and Empress of the Crystal Empire, and the crowns—though not always visible—never came off. “Look, I’m sorry.” Biting his tongue, Shining Armor held back his excuses for his outburst, most of which came from his resentment of Cadance bringing her work on vacation. That wasn’t much of an excuse, though he remained irked and knew that this bone of contention would remain. “I can almost hear a but in that apology—” “Mom, don’t be a jerk.” A single flap of Skyla’s wings sent sand flying in all directions. With a sigh, Cadance took on a defeated demeanour. “Very well, I apologise.” “Good. Now smooch and make up. Remind each other why you love one another—” “Skyla, darling, we’re your parents. You can’t tell us what to do,” Cadance said to her daughter, her tone patient, but having a layer of consternation. “You stick your nose into Uncle Gosling’s, Aunt Luna’s, and Aunt Celestia’s business when they bicker—” “That’s different.” Cadance let out a dismissive sniff. “I don’t see it that way.” Skyla’s stomach could be heard growling and a look of intense discomfort crossed over her face. “Now smooch, so we can go have din-din.” Groaning, Shining Armor pulled himself up out of his lounge chair, and Cadance did the same. This wasn’t about admitting defeat to Skyla, this was about setting a good example, one that would stick with his daughter for the rest of her life. Flurry came bounding out of the surf, covered from hoof to ear in seaweed, tripped in the sand, and went down in a heap. “Yeti turds!” Flurry hollered while she flailed about in the sand and seaweed. The sudden smile on Shining Armor’s face did much to improve Cadance’s mood, and she smiled back. He waggled his eyebrows at her, and then made a come-hither gesture with his ears, the same gesture that he had used to convey his desires since they had met. Cadance’s tail flagged for a moment, but then she brought herself under control. That little slip-up told Shining Armor everything he needed to know though, and it was with great confidence that he approached his wife. “I have an idea,” Shining Armor said to his wife, and putting on his most sophisticated expression, he leaned in closer to her, almost snoot to snoot. “How about we skip din-din and you and I get to work making another alicorn for—” “SNAFU!” Skyla shouted and she began running around in a circle while flapping her wings. “FUBAR! SNAFU! NO!” “Oh, I’d like that,” Cadance replied, laying on the saccharine sweetness. “How about right here, on the beach?” Batting her eyelashes, she touched noses with her husband. “Flurry, help! Everything that could go wrong has gone wrong!” The mound of seaweed shuddered, stood up, and spread its wings. A hard shake did nothing and Flurry the Seamonster—now covered in wet sand—shuffled about in panic. Meanwhile, Shining Armor lifted his head a little, while Cadance lowered hers, and exaggerating their actions, their every movement, they began necking. “Cadance… it really does bother me that you brought your work with you. I can’t ignore it because it’s fascinating. It left me a little resentful and out of sorts. I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry too,” Cadance replied, and she let out a pleasureable moan while necking. “Also, I was wrong about little Flurry Heart… she can be kelped.” In response, Shining Armor groaned and shut his eyes, though he did not stop necking. “Care to go on a date with me?” he asked while he gave his wife a sniff. She smelled of coconuts and a hot beach smell that ignited the flames of desire within him. “I feel that it is only fair to warn you, I have two daughters. One of them is a spaz and the other one is an eldritch abomination that just crawled out of the ocean to try out this life on land thing we’ve got going on.” “SNAFU!” “I’d love to go on a date with you,” Cadance replied. “It’d be a gas.”