Title:           Fall of Cleveland 21 - Internal Affairs
Author:          Spaghetti_Land
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/0nPGU4ra
First Edit:      Sunday 19th of January 2014 12:07:33 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Sunday 19th of January 2014 12:07:33 AM CDT

http://www.fluffybooru.org/post/view/1308
 
Written by philsrobeighn
 
Internal Affairs
>Be a go-getter intern at the Cleveland City Hall
>Currently working with the Board of Multispecies Tourism
>You admire their concept: targeting the new sapient species of the planet
>Fluffy ponies are as targetable as children in marketing
>Now owners will pay to go to Spaghetti Land with their fluffies
>Just like parents pay for Disney World
>Just so the whining stops
>You’ve already seen it in a couple of friends
>Had a get together at a house of a fluffy owner
>Another of your friends brought their fluffy to keep the owner’s fluffy company
>They don’t seem to mind the “enf enf enf” coming from the living room
>Even though both their fluffies are stallions
>Probably don’t understand because they’ve never had the stallions around mares
>Well, as long as there are no complaints about hurt poopie-places
>Today, the near constant sound of “enf enf enf” stops for once
>You recognize the Spaghetti Land commercial
>Voice-over is a Patrick Stewart sound-alike you personally found
>Got a “Good job, intern” from your boss
>Suddenly, the two stallions come busting in
>”Daddy, Daddy, magic box show mountain of skettis!”
>”Big sketti pawk!  Fun wides fow fwuffies!”
>”Pwease take fwuffy?”
>”Pweeeeeeeeeease?”
>The houseguest is a little strict with his
>”Stop that noise!  You won’t get anything from me that way!”
>Swats fluffy on the nose with a rolled-up paper
>”Owchies!  Sowwy daddy!  No huwty!  Fwuffy be good!”
>”Good.  Because I already bought our ticket.”
>Fluffy pony perks up.  “Weawwy?”
>”Yeah, little shit, so start behaving or else I’ll hawk them out.”
>It’s an interesting love-abuse relationship
>You know in the end he loves his fluffy
>He just tries to put on a good show in front of your other friend
>Other friend is such a pushover that pushovers take advantage of him
>Other fluffy comes up to his owner and says “Fwiend get go!  Fwuffy go too?”
>”Of course!  Our friend Greg here works for Spaghetti Land.  Sold us on the idea.”
>Boss forced you to buy some tickets and sell them to friends
>Part of a grassroots build-up of opening day success to fuel positive media
>More like Astroturf roots if you say so yourself
>”Yay!  Daddy bess daddy!”
>”You’d better be good too, or else I’ll get rid of them just like our friend.”
>”Fwuffy be vewwy good!  Fwuffy wuv Daddy, take fwuffy to Sketti Wan!”
>So your friends have bought weeks of good behavior and hugs
>Not the best use of the $109 owner and fluffy combo ticket fee you can think of
>But it will make the city cash hoof over fist
>And that might translate into a paid position for you
>So you work your hardest to promote the success of Spaghetti Land
>And tonight is no exception
>Been pouring over the fireworks budget
>Plan on introducing the fireworks show after a week or so
>Sure, the park opens tomorrow*
>First week is more like a public beta test
>So you are making sure that you show the best profit
>A mix of balancing and book-cooking that makes you the best
>But still, there is something that troubles you
>You used to volunteer for your suburban hometown’s annual city fair
>You know how much a good fireworks show costs
>And this is supposed to be theme-park quality
>Yet somehow your budget is running under that of a town of 30,000
>Gotta check that
>Even if it means a bit more money, the first firework show has to be a blast
>Pull up the receipts
>Look at the received amounts
>The amounts set aside for the fireworks weekend is 70,000
>That will set a world record!
>How could it be so cheap?
>Check the type of fireworks
>There are names you’ve never heard of to describe fireworks
>It seems most of this is sorted by weight
>Check the manufacturers
>Nothing sounds like a fireworks manufacturer
>If it is in English, it’s labeled as “munitions” or “military surplus”
>And most of it isn’t in English anyway
>How the heck did this happen?
>Note that all the receipts are signed for by one of the council members
>One of the park’s biggest advocates
>Go to his office
>”Hey Greg, what’s up?”
>”Sir, there seems to be a discrepancy in the fireworks purchasing”
>”A ‘discrepancy?’  Whatever do you mean?”
>”There don’t appear to be fireworks in the order
>I’ve worked with fireworks before, and I don’t think these are fireworks
>I think you’ve signed for a load of just cheap, dangerous explosives”
>”Huh, let me see this”
>He comes up around you and looks at the receipts
>”So you’ve worked with fireworks?”
>”Yes, sir.”
>”Can you answer a question about something, then?”
>”Sure, sir.”
>”Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?”
>”I don’t see what that has to do with firewo-”
>Be very dizzy
>Wake up later in a dark place
>Recognize the markings on the wall as you come to
>This is a storage area in the utilidors below Spaghetti Land
>You are surrounded by explosives
>You try to move, but you are chained to a pillar
>You try to yell, but you are gagged
>Nevertheless, you are heard
>”Well, good morning Greg!
>And I use that term lightly, as it is late at night
>Don’t bother yelling, I assure you we are far enough away from the main paths
>And this area is marked for a security clearance that doesn’t really exist anyway
>I made sure this area was set aside in Spaghetti Land for this purpose
>You see, Spaghetti Land combines my two great loves
>Sweet, sweet money
>And destroying those who love fluffy ponies
>You see, these fluffy abominations were designed to be like they are by men
>They were to be pets, pets to be taken care of
>Pets whose care would make a profit for their creators
>So one cannot blame them for their disgusting behavior
>No, the problem isn’t the fluffies
>It’s the goddamn faggots that love them so much
>That’s why these things are bred to the point of mass overpopulation
>That’s why the useless ones weren’t killed, but just left to become feral
>And it’s these faggots that I am going to kill off in a 'tragic fireworks accident'
>And then I will have a city free of those who would suffer the fluffies to live
>Not to mention millions off of ticket fees and billions off of insurance
>We’ll finally be able to make your position paid and permanent!
>Not that you’ll be around to enjoy that
>I’ll be sure you get a Citizen’s Award from the City Council though
>For bravely staying with the city’s project to your end
>Of course, there will be press conferences that night
>So I will have to make sure that my colleagues on the council are all here
>Leaving me as the sole legal recipient of all that money"
>With that he cackles and walks away
>You manage to get the gag out of your mouth
>”Does your mother know you’re so evil?” is the best quip you can manage
>”Oh, sonny boy, mama knows, but she don’t care.”
>He then breaks your jaw with a violent blow
>Then reattaches the gag
>No chance you’ll be heard now
>You try to get out of the chains
>"Oh, and sonny, don't rock around too much there.
>I may not have time to get back here for the ceremonies
>So I am arming these explosives, so wiggling around may not be a good option"
>No hope now
>If you don't starve to death down here first
>You will be blown to bits with the crowd
>As the bastard that was your boss exits
>You accept your fate
>You fall down and try to make peace
>It’s hard to meditate with such a pervasive smell of fluffy shit in the air