Title:           Picasso
Author:          deathproofpony
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/fWXSpdQe
First Edit:      Wednesday 8th of August 2012 09:17:16 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Wednesday 8th of August 2012 09:17:16 PM CDT

>working at le manly job
>step out back for manly ciggie - Marlboro Reds, motherfuckers.
>hear whimpering from around corner.
>peek around to side alley… see a fluffy pony hiding behind the air conditioning unit
>it’s… blue. But not blue like other ponies you’ve seen. its fluff is matted down, sticky.
>someone painted it blue.
>it’s frightened, as to be expected. taking a closer look you can see it’s a tan unicorn pony mostly painted blue.
>they didn’t do much of the face and doesn’t look like any paint got in its eyes.
>its licked quite a bit, though, as its tongue is blue
>”fwuffy sticky! no fwuffy no mo! bad taste on fwuff!”
>its lip is quivering and eyes are filling with tears.
>ponder issue. resolution.
>you hate to do it, but you get a few pieces of thick newspaper and lift the pony up
>put it in an empty trashcan. make sure to pick one that’s pretty clean
>and here… we… go…
>”mistah no pwease twash fwuffy! fwuffy sowwy! pwomise to behave! fwuffy sowwy! pwease no darkies!”
>”Quiet. Stay here. I will be right back.”
>who the hell knows if it even understands.
>it could be feral for all you know, which means it has less grasp on language.
>easy enough to follow the trail. blue footsteps lead across the street… to Jon’s house.
>Jon is a decent enough fellow… bit of a pothead, worked for you for a couple months but got a full time job
>has 5 fucking kids. no idea how he handles that
>oh yeah - pot.
>three of the kids playing in the back yard. two have blue paint on their hands.
>doorbell. “Hey, man… what’s up?”
>”Jon, at least two of your hellspawn caught a fluffy pony and painted her blue.”
>”Like… blue hair spray?”
>”Blue house paint. I think you’ll be able to figure out which ones did it.”
>”Where’s the pony?”
>”My shop… gotta clean her up.”
>”Okay - I’ll take care of the kids. Let me know if I owe you anything for the cleanup.”
>Jon stomps through his house and you hear the back door slide open. Children screaming. Fannies getting smacked.
>smile.
>back to shop. fluffy pony is freaking out inside the trash can, of course. simple thing can’t follow directions.
>get more newspaper and lift it out of the can.
>”fwuffy sowwy! pwease no mowe dark pwace! pwease no punish!”
>”Not punishing you. You’re a good pony. Just needed you to stay put for a minute.”
>”fwuffy good?”
>”Fluffy good.”
>you lay out newspaper on your back patio. no point in getting assloads of blue paint all over the place.
>call for cute goth chick sidekick.
>need big scissors, small scissors, electric clippers, turpentine, clean water, rags, and a trashbag.
>keep pony still for time being. it’s still shaken up but has calmed a bit.
>tries to hug you. keep it at bay for now.
>”no huggies? fwuffy wanna hug hooman!”
>”No huggies until fluffy is clean.”
>sidekick returns a few moments later. sigh. this is gonna take a while.
>pony’s eyes widen at the large scissors you begin with. her mouth opens slightly to protest.
>you carefully trim away some of the larger pieces of paint-soaked fluff. it’s drying now so it’s harder to cut
>the fluffy pony nervously hops from one foot to the other but remains silent.
>you cut away the thickest of the painted fluff.
>switch to clippers. she is afraid of the noise.
>”no bad machine! fwuffy no like! pwease no huwty wit machine!”
>”Machine won’t hurt. Fluffy don’t move.”
>even more anxious now, she’s trembling. you try to be quick but remain mindful of her safety.
>trim away most of her remaining fluff. she’s much more tan now, with just a little blue staining her coat.
>using the small scissors, you carefully trim her tail down and get any remaining bits of fluff.
>stand back, examine your work.
>you’ve never seen a shaved fluffy pony. their bodies are actually identical to MLP ponies.
>a little shorter, perhaps. otherwise the same build.
>you honestly didn’t know they had knees until now. all you saw was their little feets.
>trash the fluff. give her water. hope she didn’t injest much paint.
>”mistah weh fwuff go? fwuffy cowd witout fwuff!”
>”Bad children got your fluff dirty. Fluff will come back.”
>”but when fwuff?”
>”Soon.”
>sidekick takes the pony inside. you wash the paint off your hands with turpentine. clean up.
>sidekick comes running past you with the pony.
>”Wha…”
>”Pony poopies!” she smiles
>you wisely step aside and hold the door open.
>”Good eye, girl. Landlord would be pissed if she crapped on the carpeting.”
>sidekick returns, the pony nuzzling her.
>”Keeping her?”
>”Why don’t you take this one?”
>”Yeah… yeah. I like her. I’ll take care of her, boss.”
>”fwuffy have new mommy?”
>”Yep - that’s your mommy. Give her hugs.”
>sidekick blushes as the fluffy pony hugs her.
>she names the pony “Picasso”.
>fluffy pony gets to be quite good at finger, er, hoof-painting.
>everythingscool.swf