Fluffy Mill 1

> Another day at work

> You work at a fluff mill, harvesting the fluff from fluffy ponies to be spun into fabric

> Fluffy pony fluff is incredibly soft, and fluffy ponies are cheap to raise

> The only problem is that people are often reluctant to wear the fabric if they know where it came from

> However, thanks to the genetic makeup of a fluffy pony, it can legally be sold as 'Cashmere-Cross'

> You're on shaving duty today

> General Herd 8 is due for shaving

> The mill has twelve herds made up of around a hundred fluffy ponies each

> These are rotated through a shave/regrow cycle on a one-week offset

> There are also six smaller herds comprised of fluffy ponies that are all the same colour

> This allows you to make coloured fabric without dying it

> There are three of you to do the shaving today

> As always, there's a friendly contest to see who can shave the most fluffies

> The fluffy ponies have been brought from the holding pens in a number of wire trolleys

> They're stacked three deep, but somehow still seem to be babbling cheerfully and hugging each other

> You can hear one at the very bottom of the basket shouting “Fwuffy am carpet!”

> Pick one at random from the closest basket and get to work

> The fluffy pony pony looks around when you put her on the table

> Based on her reaction, you think this must be the first time she's been shaved

> Scan the tag on her ear with an RFID reader

> Yep, first time

> “Now, fluffy, I'm not going to hurt you, but I need you to be a brave fluffy for a while.”

> She looks up at you with a worried expression on her face

> “No wike be bwave,” she says

> Evidently she's smart enough to realise people only tell her to be brave when bad things are about to happen

> “If you're a brave fluffy, you'll get a treat, OK?”

> “Fwuffy wan' treat...” she replies, hesitantly

> Set fluffy pony down on a grille and tell her to make poopies

> Fluffy pony squats and grunts obediently

> Hose the grille down, then get out the clippers

> When they start buzzing, the fluffy pony's eyes go wide and she starts trying to back away

> Hold her in place, and start running the clippers over her back

> Fluffy pony starts screaming and wailing as she sees her fluff fall of, her legs scrabbling ineffectively on polished metal surface of the table

> Keep on going until all her fluff has gone

> Her kicking and flailing doesn't make it easy; looking across the room, you see Mike is already halfway through his second fluffy

> Dammit, you need to go faster

> Dump fluffy pony in another trolley on the other side of the table

> This one is lined with blankets

> Fluffy ponies rely on their fluff to retain their body heat

> Without it, they're incredibly susceptible to hypothermia

> Shaved fluffy ponies are kept in a separate barn, with lots of blankets and the heating turned up

> Even so, around ten percent of each herd dies every cycle

> Turning the thermostat up by a few degrees would probably save most of these

> However, management was worked out the optimal temperature based on the cost of heating against the cost of replacement fluffy ponies

> Spreadsheets can do anything

> Toss a cookie down to the fluffy pony

> It'll help keep her energy levels up, as well as calming her down

> “N..n..no wan c..c..cookie,” she says, her teeth chattering, “W...wan f...fwuff back...”

> No chance of that happening

> Sweep the fluff into a hopper

> Move on to the next fluffy pony

> You've got some ground to make up

> Pull the next fluffy pony out of the basket

> It's a pale green pegasus, with a bright white mane

> As soon as he sees where she is, she starts screaming

> She's definitely been shaved before

> She also starts shitting everywhere, before you can get her over the grille

> “Shut up, you little whiner, you're only making this worse.”

> She ignores you, legs flailing at the empty air and wings flapping wildly

> You have to spray the table down with one hand to prevent her from escaping

> As you're doing this, she cranes her neck and starts trying to bite at your fingers

> Bad idea

> Slam fluffy pony down onto the table head first

> She's dazed momentarily, which gives you time to start the clippers

> Unlike your last shavee, you don't expend any effort in making it comfortable for her

> You knick her skin a couple of times, which only elicits more screaming

> You'd like to cut her wings off and shove them down her mouth, but you don't want to get in trouble for harming the merchandise

> When you're finished, hold a cookie up in front of her

> She's snivelling, and a trickle of blood is flowing out of her nose from where you hit her against the table

> “You see this? This is your cookie. And I'm going to eat it, because you're a bad fluffy.”

> “Nu take nummy! Minty nummy!”

> “ I hope you freeze, you little shit,” you say, as you throw her into the trolley

> Check her record on the computer system

> History of aggression and insubordination

> Flag her for psych eval

> Pretty much guarantees a nailgun lobotomy

> They'll probably take her wings as well, to make her easier to shave

> It's not like she'll complain much

> If you lucky, you might even get to do it

> Move on to the third fluffy pony in your trolley

> You need to make up some ground fast

> This one's a beige unicorn with an orange mane

> Unlike the other fluffy ponies, she doesn't look scared

> If anything, she looks excited

> “Buzzy time now?” she asks “Gif bikket?”

> When you set her down on the worktop, she immediately squats down on the grate, then waddles away and lies flat

> She's constantly chanting the word 'bikket' to herself

> You will never understand fluffy ponies