- >You are a soldier in A Company, 1st Battalion, 22nd Infantry Regiment.
- >And you are being overwhelmed by a swarm of fluffy ponies.
- >The fluffies in the airport's area have decided the humans here are a threat.
- >Of course, this thought only occurred to them after you'd killed several thousand of their friends.
- >They've poured over the piles of corpses clogging the barbed wire and surrounded your barracks, giving anyone who's outside 'big owwies'.
- >It's about as effective as tickling a skyscraper with a dove's feather, but the horde is beginning to cause real issues.
- >For one, there isn't nearly enough ammunition to deal with them all.
- >For another, even though you can stomp them to death easily, that gets very tiring after a while.
- >To save energy, your company commanders have decided to offload incoming supplies onto the fluffy ponies.
- >The soldiers kick and stomp their way through attacking fluffies to meet the helicopters.
- >Despite your dire situation, you've been asked to check on the status of 1st Battalion, 18th Infantry Regiment.
- >They're based at Cuyahoga County Airport, which is even closer to the theme park than you are.
- >Communication has been lost with them; helicopter flyovers have revealed only piles of fluffy ponies.
- >This poses a serious problem; other units are being evacuated because of the overwhelming amount of fluffies.
- >Before you can leave, you have to make sure there's no one to save at CCA.
- >To this end, the Chinooks are bringing you 120mm canister rounds for your tank company's use.
- >HEAT rounds get swallowed up by the fluffy goo, not that they don't do huge damage.
- >And kinetic energy penetrators just kill fluffies in a straight line for a klick and a half.
- >A Chinook is arriving, a crate suspended beneath its fuselage.
- >It just lowers the crate onto a swarm of suddenly terrified ponies, squashing them flat.
- >You rush to the crate while the horde is distracted, and pry it open.
- >It's full of glorious canisters.
- >The soldiers form a chain to the hangars, where the tanks are parked, and pass the shells to the crews that are with their vehicles.
- >Another crate is delivered, and within the hour all the tanks are loaded full.
- >At least fuel won't be a problem; after one day of trying to fight the fluffy ponies with the tanks, the Captain decided not to bother.
- >The company's three platoons – twelve Abrams in all – roll out of the hangars, parting the fluffy sea with no effort.
- >They crush a path to the vehicle pool.
- >One more Chinook, carrying extra shotgun shells and grenades, arrives. This one lands.
- >Once the cargo is out, the four remaining civilians, people from the neighborhood that helped during the evacuation, are put on.
- >They could have left earlier, but they've been killing fluffy ponies for days in an effort to reclaim their property.
- >Now, they have no choice but to go.
- >Once the helicopter is away, you mount up in Strykers and Humvees for the trip south.
- >Four tanks will go ahead, four will be behind, and four will be with you in the middle in case anyone gets stuck.
- >Because of the amount of fluffies waddling around, determining whether or not you're on a road is a crapshoot.
- >The Abrams just go where the buildings aren't, and you let the Strykers' navigation handle the rest.
- >In theory, you're going down State Route 2, the tanks clearing a path with canister shots.
- >In actuality, you're just flattening and shredding an endless, waddling flood of fluffy ponies.
- >After cutting a path south and ending up on what everyone hopes is Richmond Road, you weave through abandoned suburbia.
- >Finally, the airport is in sight.
- >Unlike Lost Nation, there are a lot more hangars here and only one runway.
- >Some of these hangars have collapsed.
- >You have to dismount and check the place on foot.
- >Fluffy ponies have filled some of the hangars so full, they blew out and fell, crushing their occupants.
- >Any pile of fluff less than human-sized gets a shotgun blast. Terrified fluffies waddle away, but there are few places for them to go.
- >As always, they never shut up. They beg for food and hugs, or to help find their babies.
- >If you found them, you'd just stomp them into paste.
- >Fuck these things.
- >You finally see some people waving out the windows of a building.
- >”Did you find anyone out there? We haven't been able to leave this structure,” a man says.
- >He's wearing Major's insignia; must be the battalion executive officer.
- “No sir, where were you all holed up?”
- >”In the hangars!”
- >You look around. Only two of them are still standing.
- “We'll check, sir. Just hang tight.”
- >With shotguns blazing, you make your way slowly to one of the two intact hangars.
- >After ten minutes of shooting at the ones blocking the door, you manage to clear enough space for you to open it.
- >”Hooman come fo' fwuffy?”
- >”Yay, no mo' dawk!”
- >”God damn, about time someone showed up!”
- >Inside are about fifty soldiers and five times as many fluffies.
- >Many of the ponies have wilted under the afternoon heat, and the humans don't look good either.
- “Come on, let's go.”
- >”Dawk pwace! No hawt in dere!”
- >You fight back a rush of fluffy ponies desperate for shade with your shotgun.
- “Hurry! Before they all come in!”
- >Other soldiers help them out of the hangar. The Staff Sergeant calls an Abrams and the Strykers around.
- >If you can't reclaim this airport, you'll have to carry them back to yours.
- >For now, they can get treatment from the medics riding inside.
- >When they arrive, the WO that was dropped off a couple of days ago is walking beside them.
- >”We should make this fast, almost all of these ponies are swollen...I wouldn't use grenades, either.”
- >It takes six Strykers to fit the men you've rescued.
- >Another company is helping the Major and those guys get out, so your squad goes to check the second hangar.
- >The door has been jammed open. Fluffies try to push in, but can't.
- >You see why as you get closer; the pile of ponies in there is at least five feet deep.
- >You also see the outstretched hands of soldiers reaching up out of the fluffy mass.
- >They're not moving.
- “...this one's a write off. We don't have time to dig them out.”
- >You hear one of the Abrams firing their gun nearby.
- >You don't think much of it until you hear yells of 'fire'.
- >The WO looks around the side of the hangar.
- >”I thought the power was out? That streetlight is sparking!”
- >Bloated fluffies waddle around in flames.
- “Time to go!”
- >Everyone mounts up again, punting away fluffy ponies as they run to their vehicles.
- >The Abrams take up point, snuffing out paths with their bulk.
- >You ended up in a Humvee, so you can see the flames spread.
- >You stand up out of the gunner's position, firing your shotgun at the ponies trying to follow you.
- >By the time your whole unit is clear of the airport, it's completely engulfed in flames.
- >You receive word that the officers have asked for immediate evacuation.
- >It's granted. You're the last personnel in the theme park area, so all the helos will be coming for you.
- >The equipment will have to be left, except for the tanks. They can drive out.
- >The biggest, flattest spot nearby is the space across from Euclid Square Mall on East 260th Street, so that's where you go.
- >A large herd is spread out there, so you all scare them off, or shoot at them if they refuse to leave.
- >A high amount of mothers defending their foals die this way.
- >When the Chinooks and Blackhawks come, corpses and living fluffies alike are swept aside.
- >The last fluffy pony you see before boarding is an orange and yellow one a distance away, crying as she hugs something blue and green.
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