Fluffy Ponies

by Lavaman

A Fluffy Begininng

I was never a brony. I never liked the craze about fluffy ponies. I'm possibly the only person on Earth who hates them (besides sadistic people). Fluffies had been out for about six months now, and they have multiplied so quickly (even though it isn't mating season) that their price has been knocked down all the way to five bucks a pop. They're original price was one hundred. Now that there's so many, adoption shelters have been made in practically every city on the planet. Heck, I live in a smallish town in Colorado named Old Falls. It isn't big but it isn't small, either.

I ended my tumblr post, as the phone rang above the kitchen counter. I live in a good-sized house with affordable mortgage. I'm a manager at a local office for a fluffy food company. The food is made of spaghetti. Fluffies love spaghetti. Anyway, getting back to the ringing phone. On the caller ID, I see that it's my dad. This is weird to me because my parents never call me. I am, quote on quote, "A disgrace to the entire Newsworth family." I pick it up. "Hello?"
"Hello, Mr. Aaron." It's my parents' butler, Amos.
"Hi Amos. What's up?"
"I have good news and bad news. Bad news is your parents died in a car crash last night."
"Well crap. Sucks for them."
"The good news is you inherit their fluffy, Yam."
They must really hate me to give me their fluffy. I never met the thing, but I'm sure its as annoying as Justin Bieber when he still made music. That's right people, Justin Bieber retired.
"Who does the house go to?"
"Your brother."
My brother was the special one. He's younger, taller, handsome, my boss. He's way better than me in every way. I hate him, but he loves me. That's why he gives me raises. So I don't hate him entirely.
"Well then. When's the funeral?"
"Tomorrow at eleven. Sadly, you're not invited. They hired body guards to make sure you don't come."
Told you they hate me.
"Well then, bye Amos."

I hang up and sit on the couch. I'm sure most people are sad and cry a bunch when their parents die. Well, seeing as we have such a 'lovely bond' together, I'm mostly just a bit depressed.

Three days later, I come home from work to find a cardboard box on the doorstep with holes in it. The little abomination has reared it ugly head. I pick it up and place it on the table in the kitchen. I would've just put the stupid thing up for adoption, but I've seen what people post on the internet about fluffies. I can't let that happen to an innocent creature. I'm not that much of a monster. I took the liberty of getting a Certified Fluffy Safety Inspector to come to my house and install a Safe Room in a spare room near the stairs and a play pen. He even gave me a complementary set of fluffy toys. Woo. Hoo.

I slowly open the box and light bleeds through to meet the sleeping fluffy's eyes. She is a pegasus, and has an orange coat with a brown mane. She slowly opens her eyes and looks at me. "Where daddeh an' mummeh?" she asks. I don't know how to respond. I've read a lot about fluffies since I work at a fluffy food company, for Christ's sake, and now that they sometimes call death the 'forever sleepies'. "Um.... they're in a better place." I say. She looks at me with confusion "Den hoo u?" I tell her that I'm their son, or 'babeh'. She still doesn't seem to understand, and flutters her wings in frustration. She soon forgets what she was thinking about or something and tilts her head and says "Pway?"

I pick her up and place her in her play pen. I throw a green rubber ball inside. "Baw!" she screams and runs after it as fast as her tiny legs can carry her. "These things could be amused by a rock." I say under my breath as I flick on the TV to watch the recap of last night's game. Gators won. Heck yeah. Something hits my foot and look down at it. It's the green ball. I look over at the play pen and Yam is up against the wall. "Noo Daddeh bwing Wam baw?" I pick it up and, being the lazy guy I am, toss it in to the pen without getting up. "Baw!" She screams again and chases it. I continuing watching the recap with intent.

Five o'clock rolls around, and I'm getting pretty hungry. Apparently, Yam was too and began chewing on her ball. I couldn't let the little thing choke to death. "No! Yam! You do NOT eat toys! Toys are for playing!" She stops and sobs. "Wam sowwy! Wam gud fwuffy! Wam pwomise! No huwt! No huwt!" I'm guessing my parents were abusive. More of a reason to hate them. I pick her up and tell her I won't hurt her and to calm down. She still doesn't and I say "Do you want some spaghetti?" A huge smile is slapped upon her face. "Skitties! Wam wuv skitties! Wam wuv noo daddeh too." She gives me a hug. I hold her away. Don't want none yo love, girl. I place her in her play pen and give her her ball again. Same thing happens. I make spaghetti by boiling the noodles and then place canned sauce on them. Delish.

Apparently, Yam could smell the food and was getting really excited. How do I know? Her ball was covered with drool and she was jumping around screaming "Skitties! Skitties! Skitties!" I pick her up and place her in front of her food bowl, which has a good amount of the stuff inside it. I place another bowl next to her with water. She begins her feast. The thing must've been hungry and thirsty because it finished the both bowls in two minutes. I had just made a dent in my dinner.
"Wam wuv noo daddeh! Daddeh giv Wam nummies! Wam giv daddeh huggies." She came up to my leg and put her front legs around it. I push her aside. She doesn't think anything of it and just says "Pway?" I have to stop what I'm doing and put the annoying fuzz ball in her play pen with her ball. Again.

I start to wonder how she never gets bored of the thing. It's crazy, like straight jacket crazy. But, I'm not one to ponder about things for long and continue eating my dinner. After that, I wash the dishes and put them out to dry on the dish rack. I decide its time I play a bit of my keyboard. I usually do this every night after dinner, and tonight was the night. On Saturdays, I sometimes go down to a local jazz bar and play some improv for people. I earn a few extra bucks this way. I start with a simple song I learned years ago.

That's when Yam hears me and gets interested. Crap. She's probably gonna want to play or something. But no. She just hops around her ball cheerfully and says "Daddeh pway gud moosic!" I forgot my parents have Amos play their grand piano sometimes. Good. I can play without interruption.

It soon becomes nine o'clock and I think its time for bed. I usually stay up later; but there's a big meeting tomorrow. So, I grab Yam, who looks very sleepy by now, and place her in her Safe Room. "Gud nyt, daddeh." she says as she drifts off to sleep. "Good night." I say, sounding a tad mean to let her know I don't love her. I slam my door and go right to bed.

Author's Note: Please comment on this story! I love to hear feedback to know what you guys think. Also, if someone thinks I hate mlp:fim because of Aaron, I don't. If I did, I wouldn't make fan fics. :P

Author's Note:

I have no idea as to why this damn story became so popular all of a sudden.

Comments

[Levana]

That's right people, Justin Bieber retired.

Oh thank god.

[jojijijmz]

the DAAAAAWWWWWSS

[Tehpootisman]

Science, please hurry up and make this stuff possible.

[HeroesDoody]

1480445 HALLELUYA! HE RETIRED!!!

[JennaShinx]

Yes! Justin retired! Also, I feel the same way about Aaron losing his parents, just I would be a little bit more depressed.

[OmnipresentMicroorganism]

3098982

*begins chorus*

Hallelujah, hallelujah (and so on)

[randome284]

Daw, da fwuffy ith cute! If I wasn't reading this story at f****** 3 in the morning, I would've been very happy reading it! I still am but the experience is better when you don't have to struggle to keep your eyes open.