Title: Biologist vs. Fluffy Author: Bronitz Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/iLjwyjzJ First Edit: Sunday 5th of August 2012 12:37:03 PM CDT Last Edit: Sunday 5th of August 2012 12:37:03 PM CDT >You're a biologist who's out for the week doing field work. >You've been sent to a rural area to document and take notes on the local wildlife. >You told yourself that you would probably be gone for longer than expected, so you packed extra supplies. >You also have a good supply of tools, you never know what you'll find in the middle of nowhere >You stop, set up camp and get settled. >Proceed to set out on your journey >It's a good thing you packed extra notebooks, and you really haven't had to take your hands off of your camera yet. >You're just walking along, snapping a picture or writing a note every minute or so >Suddenly, a small bush a few feet off the path rustles. >You ready your camera and approach the shrub. >3 small balls of pastel-colored fuzz waddle out of the bush. >You think to yourself, "What in the hell?" >They don't seem to notice you. >You decide to move a bit closer. >Upon a closer look, you remember what you've heard >These are "fluffy ponies" >Genetically engineered miniature ponies that are now the fastest breeding invasive species in the world. >Also, they have an incredibly low mental capacity, and people have taken to domesticating them. >The fluffies, being very stupid, don't notice you untill they're very close. >Having taken them by surprise, they scream and try to run. >Apparently, a fluffy's max speed is only about 5 miles per hour. >You grab it, and it screams bloody murder and flops around like a fish. >"God, these things really don't shut up", you think to yourself. >After getting it to shut up by screaming at it, it pretty much just sits there whimpering. >It's too scared to try anything, so it just obeys you.   >You write about half a page on it before you're rudely interrupted by a shout. >"Wet go fwien, munsta!" >You look up and standing in front of you are 4 more fluffy ponies with their cheeks puffed out, trying to look threatening. >They look pretty damn stupid. "Relax, I'm going to let your friend go soon." >You're not done sketching it, so you let them know that you'll be done in a moment. >Apparently they're too stupid to process that you just told them their friend will be fine, and charge you. >They start biting and bucking your ankles. >It really doesn't hurt, but you're defensive when you need to be. >You kick one of them. >It flies through the air and lands several feet away, and gets up and limps back at you and continues nipping you. >"Wow, these things really are fucking morons." >You grab one of them forcefully and throw it back at the other fluffies. >You proceed to kick them until they give up. >They limp back to the bushes, crying about "Big mean munsta huwt fwuffy!" "Fwuffy wan nummies!" >You never get to finish your notes. Fuck.   >The next day >You wake up, put some clean clothes on. >When you exit your tent to brush your teeth and get breakfast, you can't believe your eyes. >The fluffy ponies are back, but this time there's about 20. >A slightly bigger one walks to the front of the pack. "You huwt fwuffy fwiends, an now we gon gib you big owwies!" >You laugh. "Get lost, before your friends are the least of your worries." >The big one, the "Smawty fwien" as you can tell from the rest of the herd's chatter, is a lot stupider than he looks. >They run at you in a fashion almost identical to the attack you fought off yesterday. >They bite and buck your ankles, but it still doesn't hurt. >You step through the sea of fluffballs, and pick out the Smarty Friend from the group. >You grab him, pick him up, and suddenly he's not so brave. "WET FWUFFY GO! FWUFFY SOWWY!" >You throw him as hard as you can against the ground and forcefully step on him. >You feel his bones crack beneath your feet. >He lets out a bloodcurdling shriek and the herd goes silent. "Get lost, you little shits, or you'll all end up like your friend." >Without hesitation, the entire herd turns around and runs. >The Smarty Friend is hobbling slowly after them. >You go to pick him up, and decide to use him to continue your sketch from where you left off with the fluffy yesterday. >You remember to note features such as "Incredibly low mental capacity" >You finally finish your writing, which you could not be more relieved by. >The broken and defeated fluffy will just not shut up. >"Wet fwuffy go! Fwuffy sowwy! Fwuffy neva bova munsta again!" >You throw him on the ground and plant a swift kick on his head. >You jot down "Low bone density"   >After lunch, you decide to go on a bit of a nature walk, minus the note taking. >Everything is beautiful, and every animal you see seems indifferent to your presence. >Something's out of place. >No fluffy ponies. >You shrug the minor detail off and keep walking.   >After a few hours, you return to your campsite. >You can't fucking believe what you're seeing. >Fluffy ponies. EVERYWHERE. >There has to be at least 5 times the amount that showed up at your campsite in the morning. >Oh shit. >Before you left on your walk, you left your pack out on the table. >Your food is gone, and your tools are strewn everywhere. >Your pack itself is covered in fluff and shit and ripped up. >They invaded your tent and shit everywhere inside it. They ripped up your tent itself and destroyed your sleeping bag and cot. >You are done taking taking shit from these little monsters. >You have kept your cool up until now, but now you're ready to explode. "LISTEN TO ME! ALL OF YOU LITTLE FUCKERS!" >"LEAVE! RIGHT FUCKING NOW BEFORE I MERCILESSLY KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!" You spout. >The new Smarty Friend waddles his way to the front of the herd. >"Mean munsta give fwiens big ouchies, naw we get munsta back!" >"Go way, munsta! You meanie! Dis aw land naw! >All of your life, you never remember being more angry than this. >Tearing up your belongings and eating your food supply is one thing, but your shit being destroyed by such stupid creatures? >You charge at the Smarty Friend, and grab him by his tail. >You start smashing him against the ground repeatedly. >Each hit you hear another sickening crack as his tiny skull collides with the earth. >He's bleeding, shitting and screaming everywhere. >You don't care, you aren't even started.   >You get up to claim your next victim. >You reach down blindly and pull out a rather chubby foal. >"Nu huwt fwuffy! Fwuffy wan mumma!" >You pull off his legs, one by one. >"WAN WEGGIES!" >You grab him by the tail and swing him forcefully. >You manage to club a good amount of fluffies with the fat foal. >You then rip him half whole. He stops screaming after a few seconds. >You throw the pieces of the destroyed fluffy back on the ground and begin stomping out as many fluffies as possible. >You then look over. >You forgot about your truck. >You climb in the drivers' seat as fast as possible and stamp the pedal to the floor. >You completely destroy half of the herd of fluffies as they are crushed beneath your tires. >You get out of the truck and grab as many fluffies as possible to throw into a large trashbag had in your glove box. >You pack up what you can salvage from your campsite and head back to your company's lab. >You hand the remaining shit-covered, screaming fluffies over to your coworker who will put them in the incubator, where they can be experimented on later. >Your boss is extremely pleased with your notes, pictures, and the fluffies you brought back. >You get promoted to the head of the field team. >No one ever asks why you came back 3 days early.