Title:           Fluffy Mill 1
Author:          Radenski
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/ktTfE7X4
First Edit:      Saturday 14th of July 2012 04:01:44 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Saturday 14th of July 2012 04:01:44 PM CDT

> 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