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Test - Fluffy Research Experiment Story

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>You are Andrew Onsler, or as you file yourself in your reports AnOn and you are part of Hasbio’s team of researchers into fluffy pony development.
>You are utterly fascinated at exploring psychological and physiological areas and being hired to look into the fluffy brain after the guys in genetics do their work has been the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
>You do hear some things about how cruel those guys can be but you’d never consider yourself the sadistic type. In any case, they’re not important past the reports or the occasional batch of unusable subjects.
>This is your first time in charge of a project and the higher ups have set you on overseeing fluffy mental development as foals. You’ve been given a great amount of space and liberty in regards to it and you’ve already lined up a few tests but first you need your test groups.
>Driving into work this morning, you’re told by your portly and well-mannered assistant Higgins that your lab area is set up and your designated fluffies isolated.
>Perfect.
>Stepping into the monitor clogged office you now call your work space, you see that the two week old foals needed for your test are ready, having been dropped into the clean white mazes you designed, each in a contained starting room that will be opened by handlers when you give the signal.
>Giving a nod to Higgins, the man hands you a microphone and with a quick cough, you speak into it.
>”Fluffy, you are in a maze. At the end of this maze, there are nummies as a reward. If you come to a place without nummies then you are not at the end and must keep going. If you refuse to move or quit, you will not get nummies for being a bad fluffy.”
>You hope that those instructions were simple enough. You motion for Higgins to switch the microphone off for the first half of the rooms before you continue.
>”If you come to a place without nummies, you will be punished. You must keep going until you find the end.”
>You look over the foals. Most of them have defecated in surprise at your voice while others seem to be trying to hide from it by putting their front hooves over their eyes. You hope this won’t be as much of a disaster now that you’re faced with the reality of how simple fluffy brains are.
>A second motion to Higgins and he has radioed the handlers to start by releasing them. You’re relieved to see that some have bolt into their mazes immediately and that none of them noticed the humans. The white containment suits you’ve got them made them hidden to fluffy eyes in the pure white test rooms.
>Now to watch the differences between the test groups. The first one out into the maze, a light blue foal with a magenta mane has met a dead end.
>She’s part of group 2 in your test to see the significance of negative reinforcement in development. The handler has set a wall to keep her from running back into the maze. He takes the ruler assigned to him from behind his back and holds her down.
>”Wu dewe?! Nu am bad fwuffy! Nu!” She cries out, not capable of distinquishing the hand holding her down from the rest of the room. As the ruler is applied to her rear end in a spanking she cries out in yelps of pain before the handler tells her to continue.
>You browse over the screens, similar scenes being conducted to the others assigned to group 2. The fluffies in test groups 1 are not being punished though they’re meeting an equal amount of dead ends.
>They stare blankly at the walls in front of them, taking time to register that this is not the end they were promised, some have even went backwards into the maze and have been left staring at their starting pens.
>You’re much more fascinated by the immediate reactions caused by hostile stimuli.
>”Nu gib mo’ owwies! Fwuffy nu bad, jus’ wan nummies!” You hear that first foal cry out again alongside other pleads. Despite being punished, some fluffies have retreated backwards into the maze out of panic or have completely stopped trying, huddled up in balls while pissing themselves.
>Hours pass as you continue to watch and take notes. The magenta maned foal was the first to reach the end and her reaction to the kibble presented to her was something akin to walking out of a storm.
>”Nummies so gud, wuv yu nummies.” She works out between mouthfuls, tears streaming down her fur.
>Other fluffies are doing similar acts of emotion after getting through repeated spankings.
>The fluffies not being punished merely chew away once they reach their food but soon forget it and simply call out for their mothers.
>”Research into foal development day 1 ending notes.” You say as you speak into the recorder you’ve always wanted to use. “Negative stimuli as expected provoked a quicker success and greater gratification of the reward in test subjects. However, those within negative stimuli are far more likely to break mentally. Despite time to cope, all subjects broken from more than one punishment do not re-attempt navigating, all subjects broken from one punishment do so only after significant rest. Broken fluffies are regrettably unlikely to survive past the next few days of testing.”
>That last line is remarkably cold in retrospect but it’d be best not to dwell on it.
>“As for the non-negative stimuli group, they were remarkably slower. Even their first one to the end was slower than the last one in the stimuli group. Some even forgot their purpose in the maze and called out for their mother. With predicted test plan and non-feeding in place, I believe all test subjects in group will be more receptive by the end of it.”
>One more idea dawns on you as you gaze back to the light blue foal now resting in the bowl previously filled with kibble.
>”Name test subjects for ease of reference. Believe that variation in reactions and remarkable examples may appear.”
>Your finger draws to end the recorder and you quickly compile the notes you’ve written into something more cohesive. Your eyes draw to Higgins who is doing the same and he simply nods to you.
>“I’ll have them named for you by tomorrow, sir.” He says, having heard your now embarrassing in retrospect recording session. At least he’s damn good at assisting.
>Stack it up and head out for the night, anxious with the tests you have planned tomorrow.
>The mother models and rooms should be ready then.
>After a fit filled night, you return to work with a tad too much caffeine in your system for your liking.
>Higgins is waiting by the entrance, a clipboard held under his pudgy arm.
>”The maze test subjects have been prepared for another course. The mother test groups have been readied as well, sir.” He tells you as you both walk into your office for another day of watching TV and writing about it.
>That last thought should’ve been thought a bit more thoughtfully, you think.
>”Which monitors for the mother testing?” You ask him as you take the clipboard he now offers you. On it are the names for the maze test subjects, listed with their corresponding fluffies and their gender. Most of them are standard colors and fruit names though your eyes are drawn to the light blue foal’s name.
>”You’ve named her Runner?” You inquire Higgins, who merely smiles a warm smile. You never expected an assistant this competent or endearing.
>”Yes sir, it was a suggestion by her handler due to her speed. And four monitors have been prepared behind you, sir.”
>Your caffeine addled mind never noticed the new ones opposite the maze test monitors.
>The test has already begun. Various groups of foals have put in small white rooms alongside plush, fake mothers.
>You decided not to follow the Harlow tests precisely, you’re well aware that no fluffy foal would ever take to wire mesh. You’d just have dead subjects on your hands.
>Instead, the four groups each have one unique trait in their mothers. Group one’s mother only has one teat and will only address the one being fed. You aim to see how natural competition feeds into development.
>Second group’s mother will tell them not to touch her and will react negatively when touched. The foals will be informed that she is sick and then provided food after a time. You aim to see self-imposed mother-child isolation’s drive on development with them.
>Group three’s mother will have another, living mother alongside her. This mare has been shaved and has had her teats removed in surgery. The fake mother will be inanimate and kept divided from the living mother by a wall with openings only big enough for foals. You intend to see how much a foal loves a mother based on physical or sociological needs.
>Finally, group four’s mother will only feed and address foals after they ‘impress’ her but will be incredibly receptive when they do. These moments are decided sparingly and at random should the foals prove unimaginative or incompetent. You intend to see how well foals will do in an environment where they are set by expectations.
>Group one has already started pleading with their mother after the first one has taken to her single teat.
>“Mummeh whew miwkies fo’ babbeh fwuffy?” One of them cries out, pressing on her with his tiny hooves. As on cue, the mother says as it lies sitting up against the wall. “Onwy hav miwkie pwace fo’ one babbeh. Onwy can feed gud babbehs.”
>Taking minutes to figure out just what she said, one fluffy has that flash of recognition and waddles up to his sibling feeding.
>”Bwubbah git off miwky pwace, we nee’ shawe.” He says as he pulls his brother off and holds him (if it could be called that) while he lets another of his siblings take to the teat. “Dwink miwkies, gud babbeh.” The plush mother chirps out to the new one.
>You look to Higgins after catching that scene. “It only has enough to keep one well-fed and the other two just above fatal starvation, correct?”
>”Yes sir.”
>This is gonna get harder to watch as the weeks go by. You turn your attention to group two. The two foals have just realized the maternal unit and quickly run up to her while she is set lying down in a blanket.
>”Nu mummah! Bwubbah an’ sistah wub yu!” They say, running in to hug her only to be met with cries of pain that quickly set them leaping back. “OWWIES, OWWIES HUWT MUMMAH! MUMMAH SICK, NU HUWT MUMMAH BABBEHS.” It yells out with agony only your team know is fake. The tiny things immediately begin bawling and the female has pissed herself from what you can see. “BWUBBAH AN’ SISTAH NU MEAN GIB OWIES MUMMAH, WE HUG YU GIB BETTAH FEEWINW HUGGIES.” You quickly mute group two as you know it’ll be nothing but loud and hoarse crying today.
>As your eyes shift to group 3, you catch one final glimpse of the foals and their grief. It takes you a moment as the image takes in your head before you shake it off. The foals in group three have already snugged themselves into the plush mother save for one runt who is consistently kicked off by her siblings.
>“Yu dum babbeh, go ‘way ‘fore mummah no wuvs you.” One of them taunts her. The real mother is already sobbing from immediate rejection. You were expecting something less decisive in this test but with the presence of the runt you think this group is still salvageable for further tests. Watching the runt limp away into the living mother portion, the mare breaks from her tears at the scent. You can see it in her eyes.
>”Wiww yu wub babbeh?” The tiny foal asks, eyes as watery as the fluffy adult. “Why? Yu dummy babbeh, mummah no can gib miwkies fo’ dummy babbeh. Nu miwkies pwaces.” It says resently, holding her large hoof over the runt. The runt ignores the threat and rubs against the mare in a moment of uncharacteristic empathic intelligence. “Nu cawe, wub yu mummah.”
>As heart-warming as this moment is, your mind begins to predict this affection may be the thing that can provide the example of benefits a living mother can give beyond milk and fluff and races at how interesting the data this group could provide.
>Group four’s mother has just now told the four foals what they have to do and you swivel your attention to that monitor like an office chair.
>”Babbehs nee be smuwt fo’ nummy miwkies. Show mummeh yu smuwt.” It chirps out to them as they desperately try to draw milk from her nipples. Being young fluffies, they’re far from smart and you’re sure that any progress with this group will occur later down the road once they figure out what to do.
>Now it’s time to see the second testing of the maze group.
>The foals have been placed in re-configured mazes. Those in group two are immediately displaying visible signs of distress at being placed back in the starting rooms while the passive group simply looks around with blank stares.
>They don’t even remember the test from yesterday. Even positive rewards like nourishment may not be enough to solidify information in their heads. An idea comes to you.
>”We still have the mother praise recordings on hand, right?” You ask Higgins, your sight still fixed intently on the fluffies. “If we do, can we throw those recordings into half of test group 1? Have it played when a particular fluffy avoids dead-ends or it reaches the end.” You continue, not even waiting for the answer.
>”And which ones would you specify for the new test group, sir?”
>That’s a good question, you look over the names in group one. “Have it be… Banana, Dandelion, Grape, Indigo, and Milkshake. Re-designate them to test group 3.” You’re already writing their new group in on the clipboard as Higgins scuttles off to put it together. You won’t be re-informing the negative stimuli group to see how well their memory holding is. Taking the microphone off your desk, you quickly turn it on and fidget with the com controls that were left beside it. “Fluffy, you are back in a maze. At the end there are nummies. If you come to a place without nummies, you must keep going because you are not at the end. If you stop or give up, you will not get nummies.”
>Once again many of the fluffies recoil and soil themselves at the sound of your voice.
>Group two splits immediately into those that run right ahead into the maze and those still too shocked by the previous experience to leave the starting room. Your eyes draw to Runner, she immediately slows down at corners and nudges her head over it to see if it is a dead end. “Nu get owwies in poopie pwace…” She mumbles to herself before she continues past another corner.
>If she’s got the maze figured out in two days, you think you may need to elevate her to a test requiring higher development. You write down to add her to language testing should she prove capable.
>Other fluffies are not so smart however, only two other fluffies think to look over corners like her but they fail to remember doing it on subsequent corners for a particular hall in the maze. As one of them, a pegasus dashes into an L shaped dead end, he immediately recognizes his mistake and attempts to run out. His name is Cinnamon and his handler has already put the wall in place before he could continue.
>”Nu huwt fwuffy! Fwuffy nu bad, fwuffy made oopsie!” He cries out as his wings are held down like the rest of him and his tail is met by the ruler. “PWOOPIE PWACE HUWT! NU WAN SOWWY STICK!” He yells out, voiding his bowels yet again in pain.
>Why do the genetic guys insist on giving these guys such weak bowels? You’ll need to bring it up when you request the equipment for language testing. As Cinnamon’s punishment ends and he’s released he takes a few steps out of the hall before breaking down, beating his wings in a futile attempt to fly as he sobs. This is a marked improvement! He has prioritized leaving an area deemed as unsafe before releasing stress! Provided he and the other fluffies retain mental cohesion, they may provide data regarding intuitive logic.
>”Yes!” You blurt out in a moment of caffeine fueled energy before quickly reining yourself back in.
>How embarrassing.
>Similar scenes like Cinnamon play out across all of group 2 save Runner’s monitor.
>Blueberry has been soaking in a puddle of his own piss back in the starting room for fifteen minutes now.
>Cherry has cried herself hoarse after her punishment.
>Lime has huddled into a corner of a dead end, trying to find the source of the sorry stick.
>You think you may need to accelerate the social group construct for group 2 or the subjects will be emotionally wrecked beyond salvaging. Another thing written down into your notes.
>More time passes, Runner was the first to reach the end again although only two others out of the ten fluffy test group got to their food compared to yesterday’s results of seven out of ten. The new test group was even slower than the passive group one.
>Whenever they heard the mother, they completely forgot about their task and went in search of her. Returning to dead ends was noticeably higher compared to group one. You write down that as a positive reinforcement, the child-mother bond is much too strong as hard wiring causes all short term memory to evaporate. You’ll need to find new positive stimuli for group three and hope it provides a more noticeable improvement to performance.
>You turn your eyes back to the mother groups. Group 4 has managed to impress their mother and are gratefully drinking the milk. You’ll need to go over the recording for the incident tonight. Group three is asleep, with the runt atop the living mother chirping in content. Group two’s room is covered in patches of defecation and the two foals are currently hugging each other in a corner. They are no longer crying but you can tell they’re still very deep in a state of distress at the cognitive dissonance the test has given them.
>”Bwubbeh nu bad babbeh, wuv mummah wan’ gib huggies…” The sister consoles her sibling, each of them soaked in tears and urine as they hold each other tightly.
>Finally you bring your eyes to mother group 1. The five foals placed in the group are all whining about not being fed enough. The sharing tactic will not hold out or they’ll all suffer starvation and you hope for the sake of the test it doesn’t.
>”Mummah nee’ mo’ miwkies fo’ tummeh.” One of them, a red earth pony with brown mane says as he attempts to draw more milk from the mother. Another foal, a purely sky blue unicorn walks up and pushes him from the mother. “Yu no ge’ mo’ miwkie, yu dummeh babbeh dwink up too much miwkie.”
>Conflict is already starting, and you’d love to collect more data but a familiar ring from your phone reminds you that work is over. You quickly grab the recording of group 4 to watch at home and make your way into your car as fast as you can.
>As you turn on the ignition and check the side mirror, you notice Higgins right outside motioning for you to roll down the window.
>Damn, he’s good.
>”You seem quite anxious to get home, sir.” He says, his little mustache drooping in what you figure as concern.
>”Yeah, just haven’t had any good sleep. Don’t mind it, Higgins. Would you do some things for me though?” He seems to pop right back up at the chance for more work.
>”Put maze group two in the social room ahead of time. Any further negative stimuli in isolation will result in severe mental damage. Having peers that they can relate to may keep them emotionally functional long enough to see to the end of the test. Will we have the surgery equipment for language testing ready tomorrow as well?”
>”Why, yes sir but… Our superiors were very adamant on the baby speak fluffies use.” A bead of sweat rolls down Higgins forehead. Man, maybe that’s why he’s so focused on his job. Can’t tell the difference between the wrath of God or the wrath of the higher-ups.
>“Don’t worry. We’re not trying to make a new fluffy breed line.” Though that certainly would be a nice bonus, you think. “We’re just seeing how far the fluffy brain can go off the template during growth and we can’t have any impediment we haven’t put there ourselves. Have Runner added to the foals undergoing the surgery as well, I think she’s a prime example of fluffy developmental growth and she’s already figured out the maze.”
>”Okay. Good night sir.” And with that you roll up your window and drive off.
>A week has passed since you’ve started language testing.
>The fluffies set for it have had their palates altered for the test and spent the first two days spent between whining about discomfort and being drugged out on pain killers.
>They’ve begun unlearning their ‘baby speak’ with equal amounts of positive and negative reinforcement.
>You’ve opted not to use physical stimuli for this test. Feeding into their sense of identity has proven a very effective reward for higher development foals. Pet carriers, which you now refer to in your notes as isolation cages for dramatic effect have proven equally effective deterrents for bad behavior.
>While simply putting them in one causes a ramping amount of anxiety with time, turning the carriers to face the wall accelerates the effect and amplifies it.
>You’re currently watching a learning session. The fluffies are set in a room akin to a kindergarden classroom with soft flooring and paint, toys, a chalk board, tiny color coded carpets and mouse holes.
>The fluffies have been taught that they need to sit on their particular colored carpet when the teacher comes in and to sleep in the same colored mouse hole when it’s sleepy time.
>This color coding has been great and you wager it is due to the ease of value assignment based on external appearances.
>But you’ve been rambling in your thoughts again and you focus back on the monitor. One fluffy is already in an isolation cage and his example has straightened up the rest. They watch the chalk board intently as the teacher writes and draws.
>”This is water. You drink water. Can you say water?” The teacher asks, turning from the board to reveal the word and a picture of a water bottle.
>”Wa-was!” They yell out in unison.
>”Not wa-was. Water, say water for teacher.” She brings a finger up to the word on the chalkboard. “Wa-ter. Wa-ter.”
>Fluffies are showing signs of confusion, which has been usual each session after they fail to say the word.
>”Wadu.” One of them attempts, his tongue lolling about in his mouth as he tries to feel the word out.
>”That’s better but still not there. First one to say water right gets a letter for their name.” He points to the side of the chalkboard and the line of incomplete hang-man style names. Four of them have a letter each to their names. You made sure all of them had six letter names alongside Runner.
>The entire room is full of gibbering attempts to say it now that they know they’ll get more of a name.
>You turn towards the mother group monitors. The light blue unicorn that started group one’s competition for milk has taken the lead and two of her siblings are on the brink of death, wheezing and crawling futilely towards their mother while the unicorn naps. Even if they reach it, you know there won’t be any milk for them. You make a note to retrieve them tonight should they survive until then. An interesting addition is that the unicorn appears larger than you would initially believe. You need time to confirm your suspicions.
>Group two has coped with the isolation between them and their mother now. You’ve noticed that they rarely attempt contact with each other now and mostly sleep rather than attempt other activities. Hugging and fond contact must be associated with unpleasantness in their heads now.
>”Hewwo bwubba.” The female sibling lets out with monotony as they meet near the milk bottle placed in the room. The two of them simply stare at each other before taking turns to feed. An apathetic fluffy is a sight you thought you’d never see but then again, these are what the tests are for.
>Group three’s living mother now sees visits from the other foals and she now plays with them alongside the runt with increasing regularity. You figure this being due to the fact that physical needs become less demanding as they grow older like regular children. You’ll keep it for one more week before you release the subjects.
>You remember the footage of group four you brought home as you bring your eyes to them. One of them had managed to get a top of his sibling on accident and ride him like a cowboy for a few moments before being bucked off.
>That trick worked for the day after but they had to think up something else. Faced with a day without food, they assigned the original foal as their smarty. You were pleasantly surprised at the quick escalation into the herd mentality.
>”Group four shows that fluffies would much rather follow than lead. While this is obvious, those forced to lead quickly adapt and immerse themselves in the position as alpha, or ‘smarty’ of the pack. While many smarties only take the title in their adulthoods or late in their foal stage, this group has appointed one far earlier than the norm.” Your mental recital of your own notes that day leaves you feeling quite professional as you continued to follow the developments.
>He figured out that making a pyramid with two of his siblings was sufficient for the mother soon after being made smarty. When that trick was no longer good enough, he had them repeat the cowboy trick with two pairs and had the other riding fluffy play patty cake with him atop their siblings. You remember your notes that day as well.
>”Smarty continues to keep the foals impressing the mother unit. While his siblings continue to be incredibly grateful and loving towards the mother when they’re fed, he is growing to be apathetic and passive aggressive towards her when he believes himself to be private from her. Inversely, his gratification from being praised by his peers and what his role entails gets more and more core to him every day. I believe that being appointed smarty is causing acceleration into the closest thing of emotional maturity that smarty fluffies have. He is pushing against the closest form of authority the foals know and his ego is growing from his newly found identity. He is like the eldest child in a family where the parents are unintentionally absent or neglectful.”
>You would listen to the audio recording of Smarty bossing them around but Higgins waves an arm and points a finger to the maze monitors.
>That means that phase 2 is ready.
>Phase two is a test group reversal. The passive group will be punished if they meet a dead end and the punishment group will be left alone should they make a mistake in traversing the maze. You’re relieved that the social group construct was able to keep the test subjects functioning long enough for this.
>The fluffies have been set in the starting rooms, the objectives have been repeated by the recording you’ve set up, and you’ve got your notepad ready.
>And it’s exactly what you’ve expected, all of the fluffies in the passive group broke immediately once punished. Not a single one re-attempted after being spanked by the sorry stick. Those in the punishment group had a spike of stress when they made a mistake but they immediately had a surge of joy and energy after seeing there was no sorry stick.
>A good thing you’ve had X-rays of their craniums prepared, you’ll do this again a few more days then compare the scans against the new one. Now you gaze down to them though.
>The brains of the passive group look more like soggy rice now that you think on it. The punishment group has quite different grey matter though. Theirs is larger with more developed pre-frontal cortex, cerebellum, and basal ganglia. For all intents and purposes, the stressed foals are more coordinated and emotional. You’ll need to see if the passive group can have similar growth in this stage of development before you can conclude your study.
>“WHY POOPIE PWACE HUWT?! FWUFFY NU WIKE MUNSTA! WEHE MUMMAH?! HEWP FWUFFY!” A constant barrage of similar lines spew forth from the passive group like the defecation from their rear end.
>My god they can defecate. You worry some of them might just drown themselves in anguish. You hope they don’t. Despite their precariously tipsy emotional states and purposely handicapped thinking you know they’d never contemplate suicide over this.
>Right?
>Well, you were right. They didn’t kill themselves.
>Most of them died in their sleep over night from traumatic shock. You can’t throw the remaining two fluffies into the figurative meat grinder even if you toss the fluffies together to get huggies afterwards.
>You just don’t have it in you and when the genetics guys hear you put test subjects in a shelter rather than go all the way for science you’re sure you’ll be the butt of jokes for the rest of your career.
>On the bright side, you did manage to recover the starving foals from Mother group one. Rather than tip-toe around them suddenly disappearing, you’ve set wax replicas with repugnant scents in there to act as corpses.
>The sky blue unicorn shows exceptional pride in them being dead and herself being alive and fat.
>She trots up to their corpses and intentionally craps on one of the wax replicas.
>”Dum fwuffehs no gud enuff fo’ mummah. Onwy gud fwuffy get miwkies.” She taunts, blowing a raspberry as she pushes one of her living siblings out of the way with force on her way back to the mother unit.
>The poor thing falls hard enough that one of his new teeth chips in half and he cries in agony from the pain. “NOMMIE PART BWEAK, GIV BIG OWWIES! MUMMAH GIV HUGGIES TO BABBEH, MAKE FEEW BETTAH!” He’s in so much pain the most he can do to get to the unit is writhe in her direction while tears, urine, and blood filled saliva leak from him.
>”As group one’s foals have shown, once antagonized by the fluffy they will not hold back any amount of pettiness or disdain. When food is scarce, even siblings will turn their brothers and sisters into ‘bad fluffies’ to be killed if they can do so without consequence. Simple fluffy absolute morality. What interests me though is that the sky blue filly, henceforth named Trixie has shown growth days ahead of any regular fluffy foal. Is this the natural do-or-die mentality’s influence? Good genes? Require more time to observe her with remaining two siblings.” You record, glancing furtively over your shoulders to make sure no one is watching.
>But Higgins is there. He’s always there.
>He’s always watching and he’s always listening.
>It’s been a month now and your project is just about to end.
>Your superiors will be getting the data tomorrow and you’ll need to compile it.
>You sort through the documents and recordings for mother group one and its recurring test groups.
>”Fwuffy bigges’ babbeh, bes’ babbeh!” The now obese Trixie gloats to no one in particular on the recording, the only things left in the room being the mother and the rotting wax corpses you’ve placed.
>And the foal skeletons. My god, you couldn’t believe it. She drank more and more of the milk then she started drinking all of it. The filly’s last two siblings died over night and she took to devouring them the next day. She already covered the wax effigies in feces so she didn’t dare try to eat them.
>”Test subject Trixie is now twice the size of average fluffy her age. As mentioned in previous recordings, her development is spurred by greed more than need and it has escalated. She has taken to cannibalism believed due to overwhelming positive reinforcement when eating from being in constant contact with mother unit. The act of eating is what makes a good fluffy in her mind and being deprived food is the mark of a bad one. Her siblings while initially as hostile with each other as she was; took to consoling themselves more and more as she grew dominant. Refer to recording D18H13.”
>You remember that day. You’ve started to remember everything about these tests and the fluffies. Day eighteen at thirteen hundred hours was when the remaining two siblings took to holding each other constantly. One was fatter from drinking the remaining milk but both were now starving and suffering. They learned to alternate days for drinking milk with each other. Trixie glared at them with envy and hate. She had inflicted countless injuries to both of them and watching them show love to each other drove her up a wall. She didn’t go to break it up though. She was defending her place near mother for days now.
>You turn off the recording, you know how it went. You take a recording of group 2 during an intelligence test. You know how this one went as well but you need to make sure.
>The fluffies have all been placed on pedestals one foot wide and tall alongside three regular foals. The average fluffies immediately pace around their perches anxiously.
>Hewwo fwend! Wan’ go giv huggies but no wan faww!” One of them says to another, happy as they usually are. He keeps putting a hoof out to try and grab at invisible ground but he’s stopped immediately at the smell of spaghetti. A handler brings in a bowl for each of them and places the food on pedestals opposite them on the other side of the room.
>”Sketti! Fwuffy wan’ sketti!” The same fluffy bolts to the edge facing it and falls off, landing face first onto the cold, hard ground. “Owwies! Moufie make booboo juice! Wan’ huggies and sketti!” He cries out, spitting out splatters of blood between words.
>”You will not get spaghetti, fluffy. You failed the test, you needed to wait up there until we gave the sketti to you.” The handler replies as he turns from the last bowl being placed and points his finger to the pedestal. “If you fluffies want spaghetti, you’ll need to wait right where you are until we give it to you. If you fall off, you will fail.”
>”Fwuffy no get sketti? Bu fwuffy good! Fwuffy hav’ owwies! Give fwuffy skettis!” The tiny thing tries to demand the food but the handler leaves as soon as he instructs them. The other non-group fluffies show visible signs of nervousness as they look to their wounded peer. The group 2 siblings just stare at each other and the other fluffies before going to sleep. Not even spaghetti rouses them from their indifference.
>The hours went by in the test room, the failed foal continually begged for aid or attempted to knock a bowl off its resting place. The other standard foals soon forgot why they were up there and fell down to hug their peer, resulting in other injuries. Group 2 was constantly woken up by the cries of pain but returned to sleeping immediately.
>When presented with the spaghetti for succeeding, they showed only mild appreciation of the food. They called it good nummies but the isolation’s effect was too potent to allow any greater reaction. You killed them emotionally and you knew it that day.
>You think you’re doing the same thing to yourself. You can’t watch the mother groups any more. You know how they went. Group three’s mother turned back to rejecting the runt once the others took to loving her more and you found her crushed in her sleep. Group four ‘revolted’ against the mother unit, making you take it from the room and then they turned on the smarty once they started going hungry.
>You enjoyed watching language testing more and more. You began playing how to learn English audio tapes to them while they slept after you realized a loop hole in the fluffy brain.
>Fluffies fail to learn many things because their memory can’t retain the information long enough for them to sleep and have it sorted into their brain. By using subliminal stimulation during their sleep, the data is placed directly in the subconscious. They had amazing progress after that, so much so that you began teaching them basic math as well. No more baby words from them, though their English is still broken.
>Watching them learn without crippling, death, trauma, or suffering and misery in general is the one thing that's kept you coming in. That and the pitch you’re gonna present to the suits with the project data.
>”I see you have your hoof up, Runner. Tell the class what this word is.” The teacher points to the picture she drew of an apple and the word next to it. Filled with energy from being picked, the magenta mane filly hops on her carpet as she chews on the shoe string necklace tied around her neck. Spitting it and the beads on it out of her mouth, she calms down and says. “That apple. Apple is good food and comes from trees.”
>”That’s right! I see Runner’s getting another pretty bead for her necklace after class.” The teacher says as she takes a small pill box from her shirt pocket and shakes it, the beads jingling within.
>Once the fluffies got their names, you decided to reward them with the bead necklaces and they absolutely adore them. Had to have them pinned as well as tied after one fluffy tried to eat his after it came off. The gagging and tears got you in a panic when you saw him choking and the incident made the genetics guys laugh at you even more. You shake yourself out of the thought and the language testing class and put yourself back into compiling your project for tomorrow. Hours pass and you find yourself leaving for home once again. Higgins assured you that he’ll get everything ready for tomorrow but you told him you’ve already compiled it all. He was uncharacteristically surprised by this but he grinned. For once, you did all the work.
>You’re going to miss working with Higgins, he’s one of the most diligent and trustworthy person you’ve met.
>That son of a bitch is backstabbing you!
>You come into work this morning to find your files missing and that smug bastard’s desktop lit up with his own compilation. He’s forged videos of you sleeping at work or him pretending to work and he’s going to use it to throw you under the bus. Your mind reels but you remember something.
>You remember the fluffies. Everything about them, the stuff he wouldn’t know. The stuff you didn’t put in the documents because they were trivial but that’ll be your saving grace. You make a mad dash through the lab halls until you come to the language testing room. You take a deep breath to ready yourself. Or maybe you took it because you’re no athlete and you overexerted yourself. No time to debate it now.
>You open the door ever so slightly to find the room dark and the fluffies still asleep. That’s good, you only need one. You sneak your way up to Runner’s personal room in the wall, making sure not to trip on any toys thrown about the room.
>”Runner, wake up. I need you to wake up and help me.” You say as you knock slightly against the wall above the opening. After a minute, you hear the murmurs of life inside and you slowly put a hand in to pull her out. Teeth quickly lock onto your digits, making you quickly pull them and the fluffy out with them. This is very uncomfortable but at least she’s not yelling. While she clenches her jaw around your hand, you sneak out and close the door behind you.
>Now that you’re out, you tickle her free from gnawing your fingers and hold her still on the floor. “Alright, listen to me Runner.” You say to her in as stern a voice as you can muster. She squirms around, trying to get her bearings and whimpering all the while. “I am Andrew and I need a good fluffy to help me. Will you help me?” She looks up to you and nods despite her confusion. “Okay. You’ll come with me and talk to some other misters and you answer what I ask.” As the words escape your mouth, you quickly add. “And you’ll get pretty beads, just like with teacher.”
>She doesn’t say anything, you look into her eyes and she looks into yours for what feels like a minute before she nods and says. “Okay, mister Andrew!”
>And just like that, you’re back to dashing except this time you have a giggling fluffy under your arm happy that she’s getting to go so fast. And once again you find yourself stopping outside your destination, a pair of double doors that’ll take you to the presentation room. You can hear that pudgy purjerist claim your work as his own in the next room and you know you’re going to enjoy what you’re about to do.
>”This man is a fraud! A deceitful cur! I dare say he’s even a usurper!” You yell out as you kick the doors open, interrupting the explanation Higgins was giving to the line of aging men in nice suits that were watching him around their long, LONG table. Your dramatic entrance was immediately spoiled by a scorch of sunlight to the eye. You forgot the presentation room had an entire wall made of glass windows.
>”And this is AnOn labeled in the papers?” One of the suits inquires, eyebrow raised. “Yes, he merely put his name on the works I’ve done.” Higgins replies, his previously endearing tone now creating pure animosity in you.
>”Lies, slander, forgery! This snake of a man created fake videos in an attempt to defame me but I present you proof of my authenticity on this work. I’ll tell you answers to questions only a man dedicated to every moment of research could answer!” And with that, you place Runner on the table who quickly looks around with energy. “Bright, bright! Trees outside, so pretty!” She rambles on as you exchange death glares with Higgins.
“I’ll allow it.” The eldest suit says from his end of the table opposite of you. “Show us your expertise.”
>”Alright, Higgins. What’s Runner’s favorite color?” You ask your nemesis who quickly chimes out. “Blue like her carpet!” This was his first mistake and he handed it to you so fast. “Wrong, it’s purple! See recording of language testing five, hour eleven hundred!”
>You pull forth the video from the piles of discs he’s brought and throw it into the player, fast forwarding it immediately. “Mister Andrew right.” Runner says matter of factly as you’re winding it forward.
>”No wike cawpet! Wan dat one!” The recording shows during class, Runner pointing to her neighboring fluffy on the purple carpet. The teacher shakes her head in disapproval. “Do I need to put you in the sorry box for time out, fluffy?” You stop the recording there with her moving to grab Runner. “Your turn to ask, Higgins.” You taunt, plopping the recording disc out of the player.
>”Fine! What were the results of Mother unit group 1-1?” He blurts out in infuriation, you can almost hear his teeth grind in his mouth after he says it. “Test subject Trixie showed amazing physical development in hoarding scarce resources but was mentally stunted by social deprivation and lack of context in praise from mother unit.” You utter back. “Intelligence test recording G1D3H1 for proof.”
>This back and forth goes on for what feels like hours, with Runner providing answers alongside your video citation. As you get ready to prove Higgins wrong again, a baritone voice rings out to interrupt you.
>”That’s enough proof we need. Mr. Higgins, please wait for us outside while we talk to Mr. Onsler.” One of the suits lets out, raising his hand sternly to draw attention to him. “Now that we know that you know, show us what we can do with it.”
>You were so caught up in making sure you got recognized for your research your brain is scrambling to compose your presentation plan. You glance to Runner and realize just how to start it.
>”Gentlemen, meet Runner. She is the star subject of our research and a prime example of what this data can present you. Runner holds remarkable intuitive logic, has unlearned the iconic speech defect, and can even solve basic math problems. Runner.” You call to her. “What is two plus two?”
>Runner giggles and says. “That four. Runner have four hooves.” She plops down and shakes her legs to show that yes, she has four hooves.
>”There you have it. While many say that the largest problem for fluffies is their lack of intellect I propose that it is instead their inability to learn and compensate. While other test fluffies cannot compare to Runner’s mental progress, I believe that fluffy educational supplements and improvement in fluffy mental development will yield incredible profits.” You’re in full flow now, time to give them the real pitch.
>”We turn the fluffies into a learning pet with multiple meanings of the word. A user friendly teaching aid for training educators, a pseudo-child for nervous couples wanting children or even high schoolers taking child development courses. Even regular owners would find it hard not to buy a pet they can teach and interact with sans the hard wired repetition of regular fluffies. As Hasbio builds a new wing of fluffies, this research can still help profit off the existing base.” You fumble through the rest of the recordings as you finish that last sentence, Runner walking across the table in curiosity of each man as you search. Finally, you grab onto the disc you needed and insert it into the player. You hope that bastard Higgins put his heart and soul into this media show. He made it to profit off you anyways.
>”As I mentioned, educational supplements can be made off this data. Improved training manuals, audio tapes to play to your pet as he sleeps, training videos and even bedtime story books.” You go over the various B-rolls and draft pictures put together into the video as you elaborate. This too continues on for hours.
>After another hour of them pondering what you’ve shown, they accept.
>My god, they accept and they want you ready for a lucrative year with Hasbio.
>>227644
>It’s been half a year now and you have become quite the popular person in the study of fluffy ponies.
>Hasbio has had you front and center as the face of the new ‘Brainy’ pony breed they’ve begun producing. You’ve been on talk shows, in interviews, commercials, even a couple public relation events about educating fluffies.
>Brainy fluffy sales have been slow but your educating equipment has been met with great success. Owners will buy anything that helps keep them from having to bludgeon their lessons into their pets every week. They also like bragging about how their pony can sing some lullaby or count to ten in less than a minute, which you’re not surprised about.
>Right now though you’re driving home after consulting on one of the new educational shows FluffTV has started airing. It was one of those muppet type shows, the shag carpet fur the puppets have make them really endearing to fluffies. You knew that though, the tests told you that.
>You haven’t done tests since the project ended. You felt too uncomfortable stepping back in the lab. Easier to just write the new training manuals and review the results of other experiments not ran by you. Last one you read was about insulating and raising a group of amputated fluffies then introducing them to regular ones. The amputated ponies would refuse to admit they were the odd ones since they never grew up with any fluffy with legs and thought that sliding along on their belly like a slug was standard. “Cognitive dissonance causes deviation in original physiological programming to preserve emotional programming provided no external reminder exists during development. Fluffies forgot their instinctual knowledge of walking to stay happy.” You remember writing that.
>But you forgot that you’re finally home, you snap out of your daze as you exit your car and enter your house.
>There’s Runner waiting for you by the door, like usual. Bringing her back as your pet seemed like a smart idea but it went downhill. She can’t take living in the house without you around, her fear from the maze tests translated into a phobia of dead ends without anyone else around. To her, any room that isn’t the safe room looks like a dead end and you’ve heard her scream on multiple occasions. She took to sitting by the door and waiting for you after a while.
>You can see the stress in her eyes right now though and it only helps to remind you about the other tests you ran.
>You want to try and forget that stuff, both of you feel uncomfortable about this. Maybe you could train her to remove that fear but despite how smart she is as a fluffy, she’s still a fluffy.
>An idea comes to you, one that seems far more dramatic than it should. “Runner, today’s a very special day. You ready to see what’s so special?” You tell her in a soft tone, leaning down to pick her up and pet her. You can feel she’s shaking underneath all the fluffy hair. “Runner ready, hope it is spaghetti.” She says to you, her voice starting dull but rising up to some level of happiness. You rub a hand through her dark pink mane before leaving with her. You walk with her propped up under your arm for quite some time with her waving hello to your neighbors, then to some strangers across the street, then to some other fluffies being walked. She doesn’t pay attention to where you’re going.
>But when she notices where you’ve placed her on the ground, she’s confused. You never took her to the city park so a place so open and green makes her smile in wonder. “Runner like, Runner like! What new place? New place like lawn, so green!” She babbles off in excitement. You hold her still though to let her know why you really brought her here. “This is serious Runner, I’m going to give you a choice.”
>”Choice?” Runner asks, tilting her head in confusion. “Yes Runner, you’re a big fluffy now so I’m going to let you choose. This place is the park, it doesn’t have a bed, or a food bowl, or a litter box but… It doesn’t have any walls or rooms either and you can meet all sorts of new fluffies here. You can come back to the house with Mister Andrew and I’ll still feed you and keep you warm and love you or you can stay out here in the park and be free.”
>Her smile is starting to shrink, the gears are starting to click together. She stares around at everything, the clear blue sky, the trees, the little ants tumbling from their hills. She looks at you once more and asks “What free?”
>”Free is not worrying about walls or sorry sticks. It means you don’t have rules you need to follow. You understand?” Your voice is trembling. She slowly nods her fluffy little head. “Runner knows what free mean now.”
>You let go of her, she takes a few steps to turn around. And before you can even register it, she’s gone. You see one last trace of light blue in your sight before it vanishes into the green blend of shrubbery.
>You turn and leave, as much as you want to say you're going to regret this you really don't.
>In fact, you start to laugh. You've realized. She made the right choice.
>You presented her with two options and she avoided the one that won't change anything. The dead end of the two.
>The test was successful. By god, the test was successful!

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>You are Andrew Onsler, or as you file yourself in your reports AnOn and you are part of Hasbio’s team of researchers into fluffy pony development.
>You are utterly fascinated at exploring psychological and physiological areas and being hired to look into the fluffy brain after the guys in genetics do their work has been the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
>You do hear some things about how cruel those guys can be but you’d never consider yourself the sadistic type. In any case, they’re not important past the reports or the occasional batch of unusable subjects.
>This is your first time in charge of a project and the higher ups have set you on overseeing fluffy mental development as foals. You’ve been given a great amount of space and liberty in regards to it and you’ve already lined up a few tests but first you need your test groups.
>Driving into work this morning, you’re told by your portly and well-mannered assistant Higgins that your lab area is set up and your designated fluffies isolated.
>Perfect.
>Stepping into the monitor clogged office you now call your work space, you see that the two week old foals needed for your test are ready, having been dropped into the clean white mazes you designed, each in a contained starting room that will be opened by handlers when you give the signal.
>Giving a nod to Higgins, the man hands you a microphone and with a quick cough, you speak into it.
>”Fluffy, you are in a maze. At the end of this maze, there are nummies as a reward. If you come to a place without nummies then you are not at the end and must keep going. If you refuse to move or quit, you will not get nummies for being a bad fluffy.”
>You hope that those instructions were simple enough. You motion for Higgins to switch the microphone off for the first half of the rooms before you continue.
>”If you come to a place without nummies, you will be punished. You must keep going until you find the end.”
>You look over the foals. Most of them have defecated in surprise at your voice while others seem to be trying to hide from it by putting their front hooves over their eyes. You hope this won’t be as much of a disaster now that you’re faced with the reality of how simple fluffy brains are.
>A second motion to Higgins and he has radioed the handlers to start by releasing them. You’re relieved to see that some have bolt into their mazes immediately and that none of them noticed the humans. The white containment suits you’ve got them made them hidden to fluffy eyes in the pure white test rooms.
>Now to watch the differences between the test groups. The first one out into the maze, a light blue foal with a magenta mane has met a dead end.
>She’s part of group 2 in your test to see the significance of negative reinforcement in development. The handler has set a wall to keep her from running back into the maze. He takes the ruler assigned to him from behind his back and holds her down.
>”Wu dewe?! Nu am bad fwuffy! Nu!” She cries out, not capable of distinquishing the hand holding her down from the rest of the room. As the ruler is applied to her rear end in a spanking she cries out in yelps of pain before the handler tells her to continue.
>You browse over the screens, similar scenes being conducted to the others assigned to group 2. The fluffies in test groups 1 are not being punished though they’re meeting an equal amount of dead ends.
>They stare blankly at the walls in front of them, taking time to register that this is not the end they were promised, some have even went backwards into the maze and have been left staring at their starting pens.
>You’re much more fascinated by the immediate reactions caused by hostile stimuli.
>”Nu gib mo’ owwies! Fwuffy nu bad, jus’ wan nummies!” You hear that first foal cry out again alongside other pleads. Despite being punished, some fluffies have retreated backwards into the maze out of panic or have completely stopped trying, huddled up in balls while pissing themselves.
>Hours pass as you continue to watch and take notes. The magenta maned foal was the first to reach the end and her reaction to the kibble presented to her was something akin to walking out of a storm.
>”Nummies so gud, wuv yu nummies.” She works out between mouthfuls, tears streaming down her fur.
>Other fluffies are doing similar acts of emotion after getting through repeated spankings.
>The fluffies not being punished merely chew away once they reach their food but soon forget it and simply call out for their mothers.
>”Research into foal development day 1 ending notes.” You say as you speak into the recorder you’ve always wanted to use. “Negative stimuli as expected provoked a quicker success and greater gratification of the reward in test subjects. However, those within negative stimuli are far more likely to break mentally. Despite time to cope, all subjects broken from more than one punishment do not re-attempt navigating, all subjects broken from one punishment do so only after significant rest. Broken fluffies are regrettably unlikely to survive past the next few days of testing.”
>That last line is remarkably cold in retrospect but it’d be best not to dwell on it.
>“As for the non-negative stimuli group, they were remarkably slower. Even their first one to the end was slower than the last one in the stimuli group. Some even forgot their purpose in the maze and called out for their mother. With predicted test plan and non-feeding in place, I believe all test subjects in group will be more receptive by the end of it.”
>One more idea dawns on you as you gaze back to the light blue foal now resting in the bowl previously filled with kibble.
>”Name test subjects for ease of reference. Believe that variation in reactions and remarkable examples may appear.”
>Your finger draws to end the recorder and you quickly compile the notes you’ve written into something more cohesive. Your eyes draw to Higgins who is doing the same and he simply nods to you.
>“I’ll have them named for you by tomorrow, sir.” He says, having heard your now embarrassing in retrospect recording session. At least he’s damn good at assisting.
>Stack it up and head out for the night, anxious with the tests you have planned tomorrow.
>The mother models and rooms should be ready then.
>After a fit filled night, you return to work with a tad too much caffeine in your system for your liking.
>Higgins is waiting by the entrance, a clipboard held under his pudgy arm.
>”The maze test subjects have been prepared for another course. The mother test groups have been readied as well, sir.” He tells you as you both walk into your office for another day of watching TV and writing about it.
>That last thought should’ve been thought a bit more thoughtfully, you think.
>”Which monitors for the mother testing?” You ask him as you take the clipboard he now offers you. On it are the names for the maze test subjects, listed with their corresponding fluffies and their gender. Most of them are standard colors and fruit names though your eyes are drawn to the light blue foal’s name.
>”You’ve named her Runner?” You inquire Higgins, who merely smiles a warm smile. You never expected an assistant this competent or endearing.
>”Yes sir, it was a suggestion by her handler due to her speed. And four monitors have been prepared behind you, sir.”
>Your caffeine addled mind never noticed the new ones opposite the maze test monitors.
>The test has already begun. Various groups of foals have put in small white rooms alongside plush, fake mothers.
>You decided not to follow the Harlow tests precisely, you’re well aware that no fluffy foal would ever take to wire mesh. You’d just have dead subjects on your hands.
>Instead, the four groups each have one unique trait in their mothers. Group one’s mother only has one teat and will only address the one being fed. You aim to see how natural competition feeds into development.
>Second group’s mother will tell them not to touch her and will react negatively when touched. The foals will be informed that she is sick and then provided food after a time. You aim to see self-imposed mother-child isolation’s drive on development with them.
>Group three’s mother will have another, living mother alongside her. This mare has been shaved and has had her teats removed in surgery. The fake mother will be inanimate and kept divided from the living mother by a wall with openings only big enough for foals. You intend to see how much a foal loves a mother based on physical or sociological needs.
>Finally, group four’s mother will only feed and address foals after they ‘impress’ her but will be incredibly receptive when they do. These moments are decided sparingly and at random should the foals prove unimaginative or incompetent. You intend to see how well foals will do in an environment where they are set by expectations.
>Group one has already started pleading with their mother after the first one has taken to her single teat.
>“Mummeh whew miwkies fo’ babbeh fwuffy?” One of them cries out, pressing on her with his tiny hooves. As on cue, the mother says as it lies sitting up against the wall. “Onwy hav miwkie pwace fo’ one babbeh. Onwy can feed gud babbehs.”
>Taking minutes to figure out just what she said, one fluffy has that flash of recognition and waddles up to his sibling feeding.
>”Bwubbah git off miwky pwace, we nee’ shawe.” He says as he pulls his brother off and holds him (if it could be called that) while he lets another of his siblings take to the teat. “Dwink miwkies, gud babbeh.” The plush mother chirps out to the new one.
>You look to Higgins after catching that scene. “It only has enough to keep one well-fed and the other two just above fatal starvation, correct?”
>”Yes sir.”
>This is gonna get harder to watch as the weeks go by. You turn your attention to group two. The two foals have just realized the maternal unit and quickly run up to her while she is set lying down in a blanket.
>”Nu mummah! Bwubbah an’ sistah wub yu!” They say, running in to hug her only to be met with cries of pain that quickly set them leaping back. “OWWIES, OWWIES HUWT MUMMAH! MUMMAH SICK, NU HUWT MUMMAH BABBEHS.” It yells out with agony only your team know is fake. The tiny things immediately begin bawling and the female has pissed herself from what you can see. “BWUBBAH AN’ SISTAH NU MEAN GIB OWIES MUMMAH, WE HUG YU GIB BETTAH FEEWINW HUGGIES.” You quickly mute group two as you know it’ll be nothing but loud and hoarse crying today.
>As your eyes shift to group 3, you catch one final glimpse of the foals and their grief. It takes you a moment as the image takes in your head before you shake it off. The foals in group three have already snugged themselves into the plush mother save for one runt who is consistently kicked off by her siblings.
>“Yu dum babbeh, go ‘way ‘fore mummah no wuvs you.” One of them taunts her. The real mother is already sobbing from immediate rejection. You were expecting something less decisive in this test but with the presence of the runt you think this group is still salvageable for further tests. Watching the runt limp away into the living mother portion, the mare breaks from her tears at the scent. You can see it in her eyes.
>”Wiww yu wub babbeh?” The tiny foal asks, eyes as watery as the fluffy adult. “Why? Yu dummy babbeh, mummah no can gib miwkies fo’ dummy babbeh. Nu miwkies pwaces.” It says resently, holding her large hoof over the runt. The runt ignores the threat and rubs against the mare in a moment of uncharacteristic empathic intelligence. “Nu cawe, wub yu mummah.”
>As heart-warming as this moment is, your mind begins to predict this affection may be the thing that can provide the example of benefits a living mother can give beyond milk and fluff and races at how interesting the data this group could provide.
>Group four’s mother has just now told the four foals what they have to do and you swivel your attention to that monitor like an office chair.
>”Babbehs nee be smuwt fo’ nummy miwkies. Show mummeh yu smuwt.” It chirps out to them as they desperately try to draw milk from her nipples. Being young fluffies, they’re far from smart and you’re sure that any progress with this group will occur later down the road once they figure out what to do.
>Now it’s time to see the second testing of the maze group.
>The foals have been placed in re-configured mazes. Those in group two are immediately displaying visible signs of distress at being placed back in the starting rooms while the passive group simply looks around with blank stares.
>They don’t even remember the test from yesterday. Even positive rewards like nourishment may not be enough to solidify information in their heads. An idea comes to you.
>”We still have the mother praise recordings on hand, right?” You ask Higgins, your sight still fixed intently on the fluffies. “If we do, can we throw those recordings into half of test group 1? Have it played when a particular fluffy avoids dead-ends or it reaches the end.” You continue, not even waiting for the answer.
>”And which ones would you specify for the new test group, sir?”
>That’s a good question, you look over the names in group one. “Have it be… Banana, Dandelion, Grape, Indigo, and Milkshake. Re-designate them to test group 3.” You’re already writing their new group in on the clipboard as Higgins scuttles off to put it together. You won’t be re-informing the negative stimuli group to see how well their memory holding is. Taking the microphone off your desk, you quickly turn it on and fidget with the com controls that were left beside it. “Fluffy, you are back in a maze. At the end there are nummies. If you come to a place without nummies, you must keep going because you are not at the end. If you stop or give up, you will not get nummies.”
>Once again many of the fluffies recoil and soil themselves at the sound of your voice.
>Group two splits immediately into those that run right ahead into the maze and those still too shocked by the previous experience to leave the starting room. Your eyes draw to Runner, she immediately slows down at corners and nudges her head over it to see if it is a dead end. “Nu get owwies in poopie pwace…” She mumbles to herself before she continues past another corner.
>If she’s got the maze figured out in two days, you think you may need to elevate her to a test requiring higher development. You write down to add her to language testing should she prove capable.
>Other fluffies are not so smart however, only two other fluffies think to look over corners like her but they fail to remember doing it on subsequent corners for a particular hall in the maze. As one of them, a pegasus dashes into an L shaped dead end, he immediately recognizes his mistake and attempts to run out. His name is Cinnamon and his handler has already put the wall in place before he could continue.
>”Nu huwt fwuffy! Fwuffy nu bad, fwuffy made oopsie!” He cries out as his wings are held down like the rest of him and his tail is met by the ruler. “PWOOPIE PWACE HUWT! NU WAN SOWWY STICK!” He yells out, voiding his bowels yet again in pain.
>Why do the genetic guys insist on giving these guys such weak bowels? You’ll need to bring it up when you request the equipment for language testing. As Cinnamon’s punishment ends and he’s released he takes a few steps out of the hall before breaking down, beating his wings in a futile attempt to fly as he sobs. This is a marked improvement! He has prioritized leaving an area deemed as unsafe before releasing stress! Provided he and the other fluffies retain mental cohesion, they may provide data regarding intuitive logic.
>”Yes!” You blurt out in a moment of caffeine fueled energy before quickly reining yourself back in.
>How embarrassing.
>Similar scenes like Cinnamon play out across all of group 2 save Runner’s monitor.
>Blueberry has been soaking in a puddle of his own piss back in the starting room for fifteen minutes now.
>Cherry has cried herself hoarse after her punishment.
>Lime has huddled into a corner of a dead end, trying to find the source of the sorry stick.
>You think you may need to accelerate the social group construct for group 2 or the subjects will be emotionally wrecked beyond salvaging. Another thing written down into your notes.
>More time passes, Runner was the first to reach the end again although only two others out of the ten fluffy test group got to their food compared to yesterday’s results of seven out of ten. The new test group was even slower than the passive group one.
>Whenever they heard the mother, they completely forgot about their task and went in search of her. Returning to dead ends was noticeably higher compared to group one. You write down that as a positive reinforcement, the child-mother bond is much too strong as hard wiring causes all short term memory to evaporate. You’ll need to find new positive stimuli for group three and hope it provides a more noticeable improvement to performance.
>You turn your eyes back to the mother groups. Group 4 has managed to impress their mother and are gratefully drinking the milk. You’ll need to go over the recording for the incident tonight. Group three is asleep, with the runt atop the living mother chirping in content. Group two’s room is covered in patches of defecation and the two foals are currently hugging each other in a corner. They are no longer crying but you can tell they’re still very deep in a state of distress at the cognitive dissonance the test has given them.
>”Bwubbeh nu bad babbeh, wuv mummah wan’ gib huggies…” The sister consoles her sibling, each of them soaked in tears and urine as they hold each other tightly.
>Finally you bring your eyes to mother group 1. The five foals placed in the group are all whining about not being fed enough. The sharing tactic will not hold out or they’ll all suffer starvation and you hope for the sake of the test it doesn’t.
>”Mummah nee’ mo’ miwkies fo’ tummeh.” One of them, a red earth pony with brown mane says as he attempts to draw more milk from the mother. Another foal, a purely sky blue unicorn walks up and pushes him from the mother. “Yu no ge’ mo’ miwkie, yu dummeh babbeh dwink up too much miwkie.”
>Conflict is already starting, and you’d love to collect more data but a familiar ring from your phone reminds you that work is over. You quickly grab the recording of group 4 to watch at home and make your way into your car as fast as you can.
>As you turn on the ignition and check the side mirror, you notice Higgins right outside motioning for you to roll down the window.
>Damn, he’s good.
>”You seem quite anxious to get home, sir.” He says, his little mustache drooping in what you figure as concern.
>”Yeah, just haven’t had any good sleep. Don’t mind it, Higgins. Would you do some things for me though?” He seems to pop right back up at the chance for more work.
>”Put maze group two in the social room ahead of time. Any further negative stimuli in isolation will result in severe mental damage. Having peers that they can relate to may keep them emotionally functional long enough to see to the end of the test. Will we have the surgery equipment for language testing ready tomorrow as well?”
>”Why, yes sir but… Our superiors were very adamant on the baby speak fluffies use.” A bead of sweat rolls down Higgins forehead. Man, maybe that’s why he’s so focused on his job. Can’t tell the difference between the wrath of God or the wrath of the higher-ups.
>“Don’t worry. We’re not trying to make a new fluffy breed line.” Though that certainly would be a nice bonus, you think. “We’re just seeing how far the fluffy brain can go off the template during growth and we can’t have any impediment we haven’t put there ourselves. Have Runner added to the foals undergoing the surgery as well, I think she’s a prime example of fluffy developmental growth and she’s already figured out the maze.”
>”Okay. Good night sir.” And with that you roll up your window and drive off.
>A week has passed since you’ve started language testing.
>The fluffies set for it have had their palates altered for the test and spent the first two days spent between whining about discomfort and being drugged out on pain killers.
>They’ve begun unlearning their ‘baby speak’ with equal amounts of positive and negative reinforcement.
>You’ve opted not to use physical stimuli for this test. Feeding into their sense of identity has proven a very effective reward for higher development foals. Pet carriers, which you now refer to in your notes as isolation cages for dramatic effect have proven equally effective deterrents for bad behavior.
>While simply putting them in one causes a ramping amount of anxiety with time, turning the carriers to face the wall accelerates the effect and amplifies it.
>You’re currently watching a learning session. The fluffies are set in a room akin to a kindergarden classroom with soft flooring and paint, toys, a chalk board, tiny color coded carpets and mouse holes.
>The fluffies have been taught that they need to sit on their particular colored carpet when the teacher comes in and to sleep in the same colored mouse hole when it’s sleepy time.
>This color coding has been great and you wager it is due to the ease of value assignment based on external appearances.
>But you’ve been rambling in your thoughts again and you focus back on the monitor. One fluffy is already in an isolation cage and his example has straightened up the rest. They watch the chalk board intently as the teacher writes and draws.
>”This is water. You drink water. Can you say water?” The teacher asks, turning from the board to reveal the word and a picture of a water bottle.
>”Wa-was!” They yell out in unison.
>”Not wa-was. Water, say water for teacher.” She brings a finger up to the word on the chalkboard. “Wa-ter. Wa-ter.”
>Fluffies are showing signs of confusion, which has been usual each session after they fail to say the word.
>”Wadu.” One of them attempts, his tongue lolling about in his mouth as he tries to feel the word out.
>”That’s better but still not there. First one to say water right gets a letter for their name.” He points to the side of the chalkboard and the line of incomplete hang-man style names. Four of them have a letter each to their names. You made sure all of them had six letter names alongside Runner.
>The entire room is full of gibbering attempts to say it now that they know they’ll get more of a name.
>You turn towards the mother group monitors. The light blue unicorn that started group one’s competition for milk has taken the lead and two of her siblings are on the brink of death, wheezing and crawling futilely towards their mother while the unicorn naps. Even if they reach it, you know there won’t be any milk for them. You make a note to retrieve them tonight should they survive until then. An interesting addition is that the unicorn appears larger than you would initially believe. You need time to confirm your suspicions.
>Group two has coped with the isolation between them and their mother now. You’ve noticed that they rarely attempt contact with each other now and mostly sleep rather than attempt other activities. Hugging and fond contact must be associated with unpleasantness in their heads now.
>”Hewwo bwubba.” The female sibling lets out with monotony as they meet near the milk bottle placed in the room. The two of them simply stare at each other before taking turns to feed. An apathetic fluffy is a sight you thought you’d never see but then again, these are what the tests are for.
>Group three’s living mother now sees visits from the other foals and she now plays with them alongside the runt with increasing regularity. You figure this being due to the fact that physical needs become less demanding as they grow older like regular children. You’ll keep it for one more week before you release the subjects.
>You remember the footage of group four you brought home as you bring your eyes to them. One of them had managed to get a top of his sibling on accident and ride him like a cowboy for a few moments before being bucked off.
>That trick worked for the day after but they had to think up something else. Faced with a day without food, they assigned the original foal as their smarty. You were pleasantly surprised at the quick escalation into the herd mentality.
>”Group four shows that fluffies would much rather follow than lead. While this is obvious, those forced to lead quickly adapt and immerse themselves in the position as alpha, or ‘smarty’ of the pack. While many smarties only take the title in their adulthoods or late in their foal stage, this group has appointed one far earlier than the norm.” Your mental recital of your own notes that day leaves you feeling quite professional as you continued to follow the developments.
>He figured out that making a pyramid with two of his siblings was sufficient for the mother soon after being made smarty. When that trick was no longer good enough, he had them repeat the cowboy trick with two pairs and had the other riding fluffy play patty cake with him atop their siblings. You remember your notes that day as well.
>”Smarty continues to keep the foals impressing the mother unit. While his siblings continue to be incredibly grateful and loving towards the mother when they’re fed, he is growing to be apathetic and passive aggressive towards her when he believes himself to be private from her. Inversely, his gratification from being praised by his peers and what his role entails gets more and more core to him every day. I believe that being appointed smarty is causing acceleration into the closest thing of emotional maturity that smarty fluffies have. He is pushing against the closest form of authority the foals know and his ego is growing from his newly found identity. He is like the eldest child in a family where the parents are unintentionally absent or neglectful.”
>You would listen to the audio recording of Smarty bossing them around but Higgins waves an arm and points a finger to the maze monitors.
>That means that phase 2 is ready.
>Phase two is a test group reversal. The passive group will be punished if they meet a dead end and the punishment group will be left alone should they make a mistake in traversing the maze. You’re relieved that the social group construct was able to keep the test subjects functioning long enough for this.
>The fluffies have been set in the starting rooms, the objectives have been repeated by the recording you’ve set up, and you’ve got your notepad ready.
>And it’s exactly what you’ve expected, all of the fluffies in the passive group broke immediately once punished. Not a single one re-attempted after being spanked by the sorry stick. Those in the punishment group had a spike of stress when they made a mistake but they immediately had a surge of joy and energy after seeing there was no sorry stick.
>A good thing you’ve had X-rays of their craniums prepared, you’ll do this again a few more days then compare the scans against the new one. Now you gaze down to them though.
>The brains of the passive group look more like soggy rice now that you think on it. The punishment group has quite different grey matter though. Theirs is larger with more developed pre-frontal cortex, cerebellum, and basal ganglia. For all intents and purposes, the stressed foals are more coordinated and emotional. You’ll need to see if the passive group can have similar growth in this stage of development before you can conclude your study.
>“WHY POOPIE PWACE HUWT?! FWUFFY NU WIKE MUNSTA! WEHE MUMMAH?! HEWP FWUFFY!” A constant barrage of similar lines spew forth from the passive group like the defecation from their rear end.
>My god they can defecate. You worry some of them might just drown themselves in anguish. You hope they don’t. Despite their precariously tipsy emotional states and purposely handicapped thinking you know they’d never contemplate suicide over this.
>Right?
>Well, you were right. They didn’t kill themselves.
>Most of them died in their sleep over night from traumatic shock. You can’t throw the remaining two fluffies into the figurative meat grinder even if you toss the fluffies together to get huggies afterwards.
>You just don’t have it in you and when the genetics guys hear you put test subjects in a shelter rather than go all the way for science you’re sure you’ll be the butt of jokes for the rest of your career.
>On the bright side, you did manage to recover the starving foals from Mother group one. Rather than tip-toe around them suddenly disappearing, you’ve set wax replicas with repugnant scents in there to act as corpses.
>The sky blue unicorn shows exceptional pride in them being dead and herself being alive and fat.
>She trots up to their corpses and intentionally craps on one of the wax replicas.
>”Dum fwuffehs no gud enuff fo’ mummah. Onwy gud fwuffy get miwkies.” She taunts, blowing a raspberry as she pushes one of her living siblings out of the way with force on her way back to the mother unit.
>The poor thing falls hard enough that one of his new teeth chips in half and he cries in agony from the pain. “NOMMIE PART BWEAK, GIV BIG OWWIES! MUMMAH GIV HUGGIES TO BABBEH, MAKE FEEW BETTAH!” He’s in so much pain the most he can do to get to the unit is writhe in her direction while tears, urine, and blood filled saliva leak from him.
>”As group one’s foals have shown, once antagonized by the fluffy they will not hold back any amount of pettiness or disdain. When food is scarce, even siblings will turn their brothers and sisters into ‘bad fluffies’ to be killed if they can do so without consequence. Simple fluffy absolute morality. What interests me though is that the sky blue filly, henceforth named Trixie has shown growth days ahead of any regular fluffy foal. Is this the natural do-or-die mentality’s influence? Good genes? Require more time to observe her with remaining two siblings.” You record, glancing furtively over your shoulders to make sure no one is watching.
>But Higgins is there. He’s always there.
>He’s always watching and he’s always listening.
>It’s been a month now and your project is just about to end.
>Your superiors will be getting the data tomorrow and you’ll need to compile it.
>You sort through the documents and recordings for mother group one and its recurring test groups.
>”Fwuffy bigges’ babbeh, bes’ babbeh!” The now obese Trixie gloats to no one in particular on the recording, the only things left in the room being the mother and the rotting wax corpses you’ve placed.
>And the foal skeletons. My god, you couldn’t believe it. She drank more and more of the milk then she started drinking all of it. The filly’s last two siblings died over night and she took to devouring them the next day. She already covered the wax effigies in feces so she didn’t dare try to eat them. 
>”Test subject Trixie is now twice the size of average fluffy her age. As mentioned in previous recordings, her development is spurred by greed more than need and it has escalated. She has taken to cannibalism believed due to overwhelming positive reinforcement when eating from being in constant contact with mother unit. The act of eating is what makes a good fluffy in her mind and being deprived food is the mark of a bad one. Her siblings while initially as hostile with each other as she was; took to consoling themselves more and more as she grew dominant. Refer to recording D18H13.”
>You remember that day. You’ve started to remember everything about these tests and the fluffies. Day eighteen at thirteen hundred hours was when the remaining two siblings took to holding each other constantly. One was fatter from drinking the remaining milk but both were now starving and suffering. They learned to alternate days for drinking milk with each other. Trixie glared at them with envy and hate. She had inflicted countless injuries to both of them and watching them show love to each other drove her up a wall. She didn’t go to break it up though. She was defending her place near mother for days now.
>You turn off the recording, you know how it went. You take a recording of group 2 during an intelligence test. You know how this one went as well but you need to make sure.
>The fluffies have all been placed on pedestals one foot wide and tall alongside three regular foals. The average fluffies immediately pace around their perches anxiously.
>Hewwo fwend! Wan’ go giv huggies but no wan faww!” One of them says to another, happy as they usually are. He keeps putting a hoof out to try and grab at invisible ground but he’s stopped immediately at the smell of spaghetti. A handler brings in a bowl for each of them and places the food on pedestals opposite them on the other side of the room.
>”Sketti! Fwuffy wan’ sketti!” The same fluffy bolts to the edge facing it and falls off, landing face first onto the cold, hard ground. “Owwies! Moufie make booboo juice! Wan’ huggies and sketti!” He cries out, spitting out splatters of blood between words.
>”You will not get spaghetti, fluffy. You failed the test, you needed to wait up there until we gave the sketti to you.” The handler replies as he turns from the last bowl being placed and points his finger to the pedestal. “If you fluffies want spaghetti, you’ll need to wait right where you are until we give it to you. If you fall off, you will fail.”
>”Fwuffy no get sketti? Bu fwuffy good! Fwuffy hav’ owwies! Give fwuffy skettis!” The tiny thing tries to demand the food but the handler leaves as soon as he instructs them. The other non-group fluffies show visible signs of nervousness as they look to their wounded peer. The group 2 siblings just stare at each other and the other fluffies before going to sleep. Not even spaghetti rouses them from their indifference.
>The hours went by in the test room, the failed foal continually begged for aid or attempted to knock a bowl off its resting place. The other standard foals soon forgot why they were up there and fell down to hug their peer, resulting in other injuries. Group 2 was constantly woken up by the cries of pain but returned to sleeping immediately.
>When presented with the spaghetti for succeeding, they showed only mild appreciation of the food. They called it good nummies but the isolation’s effect was too potent to allow any greater reaction. You killed them emotionally and you knew it that day.
>You think you’re doing the same thing to yourself. You can’t watch the mother groups any more. You know how they went. Group three’s mother turned back to rejecting the runt once the others took to loving her more and you found her crushed in her sleep. Group four ‘revolted’ against the mother unit, making you take it from the room and then they turned on the smarty once they started going hungry.
>You enjoyed watching language testing more and more. You began playing how to learn English audio tapes to them while they slept after you realized a loop hole in the fluffy brain.
>Fluffies fail to learn many things because their memory can’t retain the information long enough for them to sleep and have it sorted into their brain. By using subliminal stimulation during their sleep, the data is placed directly in the subconscious. They had amazing progress after that, so much so that you began teaching them basic math as well. No more baby words from them, though their English is still broken.
>Watching them learn without crippling, death, trauma, or suffering and misery in general is the one thing that's kept you coming in. That and the pitch you’re gonna present to the suits with the project data.
>”I see you have your hoof up, Runner. Tell the class what this word is.” The teacher points to the picture she drew of an apple and the word next to it. Filled with energy from being picked, the magenta mane filly hops on her carpet as she chews on the shoe string necklace tied around her neck. Spitting it and the beads on it out of her mouth, she calms down and says. “That apple. Apple is good food and comes from trees.”
>”That’s right! I see Runner’s getting another pretty bead for her necklace after class.” The teacher says as she takes a small pill box from her shirt pocket and shakes it, the beads jingling within.
>Once the fluffies got their names, you decided to reward them with the bead necklaces and they absolutely adore them. Had to have them pinned as well as tied after one fluffy tried to eat his after it came off. The gagging and tears got you in a panic when you saw him choking and the incident made the genetics guys laugh at you even more. You shake yourself out of the thought and the language testing class and put yourself back into compiling your project for tomorrow. Hours pass and you find yourself leaving for home once again. Higgins assured you that he’ll get everything ready for tomorrow but you told him you’ve already compiled it all. He was uncharacteristically surprised by this but he grinned. For once, you did all the work.
>You’re going to miss working with Higgins, he’s one of the most diligent and trustworthy person you’ve met.
>That son of a bitch is backstabbing you!
>You come into work this morning to find your files missing and that smug bastard’s desktop lit up with his own compilation. He’s forged videos of you sleeping at work or him pretending to work and he’s going to use it to throw you under the bus. Your mind reels but you remember something.
>You remember the fluffies. Everything about them, the stuff he wouldn’t know. The stuff you didn’t put in the documents because they were trivial but that’ll be your saving grace. You make a mad dash through the lab halls until you come to the language testing room. You take a deep breath to ready yourself. Or maybe you took it because you’re no athlete and you overexerted yourself. No time to debate it now.
>You open the door ever so slightly to find the room dark and the fluffies still asleep. That’s good, you only need one. You sneak your way up to Runner’s personal room in the wall, making sure not to trip on any toys thrown about the room.
>”Runner, wake up. I need you to wake up and help me.” You say as you knock slightly against the wall above the opening. After a minute, you hear the murmurs of life inside and you slowly put a hand in to pull her out. Teeth quickly lock onto your digits, making you quickly pull them and the fluffy out with them. This is very uncomfortable but at least she’s not yelling. While she clenches her jaw around your hand, you sneak out and close the door behind you.
>Now that you’re out, you tickle her free from gnawing your fingers and hold her still on the floor. “Alright, listen to me Runner.” You say to her in as stern a voice as you can muster. She squirms around, trying to get her bearings and whimpering all the while. “I am Andrew and I need a good fluffy to help me. Will you help me?” She looks up to you and nods despite her confusion. “Okay. You’ll come with me and talk to some other misters and you answer what I ask.” As the words escape your mouth, you quickly add. “And you’ll get pretty beads, just like with teacher.”
>She doesn’t say anything, you look into her eyes and she looks into yours for what feels like a minute before she nods and says. “Okay, mister Andrew!”
>And just like that, you’re back to dashing except this time you have a giggling fluffy under your arm happy that she’s getting to go so fast. And once again you find yourself stopping outside your destination, a pair of double doors that’ll take you to the presentation room. You can hear that pudgy purjerist claim your work as his own in the next room and you know you’re going to enjoy what you’re about to do.
>”This man is a fraud! A deceitful cur! I dare say he’s even a usurper!” You yell out as you kick the doors open, interrupting the explanation Higgins was giving to the line of aging men in nice suits that were watching him around their long, LONG table. Your dramatic entrance was immediately spoiled by a scorch of sunlight to the eye. You forgot the presentation room had an entire wall made of glass windows.
>”And this is AnOn labeled in the papers?” One of the suits inquires, eyebrow raised. “Yes, he merely put his name on the works I’ve done.” Higgins replies, his previously endearing tone now creating pure animosity in you.
>”Lies, slander, forgery! This snake of a man created fake videos in an attempt to defame me but I present you proof of my authenticity on this work. I’ll tell you answers to questions only a man dedicated to every moment of research could answer!” And with that, you place Runner on the table who quickly looks around with energy. “Bright, bright! Trees outside, so pretty!” She rambles on as you exchange death glares with Higgins.
“I’ll allow it.” The eldest suit says from his end of the table opposite of you. “Show us your expertise.”
>”Alright, Higgins. What’s Runner’s favorite color?” You ask your nemesis who quickly chimes out. “Blue like her carpet!” This was his first mistake and he handed it to you so fast. “Wrong, it’s purple! See recording of language testing five, hour eleven hundred!”
>You pull forth the video from the piles of discs he’s brought and throw it into the player, fast forwarding it immediately. “Mister Andrew right.” Runner says matter of factly as you’re winding it forward.
>”No wike cawpet! Wan dat one!” The recording shows during class, Runner pointing to her neighboring fluffy on the purple carpet. The teacher shakes her head in disapproval. “Do I need to put you in the sorry box for time out, fluffy?” You stop the recording there with her moving to grab Runner. “Your turn to ask, Higgins.” You taunt, plopping the recording disc out of the player.
>”Fine! What were the results of Mother unit group 1-1?” He blurts out in infuriation, you can almost hear his teeth grind in his mouth after he says it. “Test subject Trixie showed amazing physical development in hoarding scarce resources but was mentally stunted by social deprivation and lack of context in praise from mother unit.” You utter back. “Intelligence test recording G1D3H1 for proof.”
>This back and forth goes on for what feels like hours, with Runner providing answers alongside your video citation. As you get ready to prove Higgins wrong again, a baritone voice rings out to interrupt you.
>”That’s enough proof we need. Mr. Higgins, please wait for us outside while we talk to Mr. Onsler.” One of the suits lets out, raising his hand sternly to draw attention to him. “Now that we know that you know, show us what we can do with it.”
>You were so caught up in making sure you got recognized for your research your brain is scrambling to compose your presentation plan. You glance to Runner and realize just how to start it.
>”Gentlemen, meet Runner. She is the star subject of our research and a prime example of what this data can present you. Runner holds remarkable intuitive logic, has unlearned the iconic speech defect, and can even solve basic math problems. Runner.” You call to her. “What is two plus two?”
>Runner giggles and says. “That four. Runner have four hooves.” She plops down and shakes her legs to show that yes, she has four hooves.
>”There you have it. While many say that the largest problem for fluffies is their lack of intellect I propose that it is instead their inability to learn and compensate. While other test fluffies cannot compare to Runner’s mental progress, I believe that fluffy educational supplements and improvement in fluffy mental development will yield incredible profits.” You’re in full flow now, time to give them the real pitch.
>”We turn the fluffies into a learning pet with multiple meanings of the word. A user friendly teaching aid for training educators, a pseudo-child for nervous couples wanting children or even high schoolers taking child development courses. Even regular owners would find it hard not to buy a pet they can teach and interact with sans the hard wired repetition of regular fluffies. As Hasbio builds a new wing of fluffies, this research can still help profit off the existing base.” You fumble through the rest of the recordings as you finish that last sentence, Runner walking across the table in curiosity of each man as you search. Finally, you grab onto the disc you needed and insert it into the player. You hope that bastard Higgins put his heart and soul into this media show. He made it to profit off you anyways.
>”As I mentioned, educational supplements can be made off this data. Improved training manuals, audio tapes to play to your pet as he sleeps, training videos and even bedtime story books.” You go over the various B-rolls and draft pictures put together into the video as you elaborate. This too continues on for hours.
>After another hour of them pondering what you’ve shown, they accept.
>My god, they accept and they want you ready for a lucrative year with Hasbio.
>>227644
>It’s been half a year now and you have become quite the popular person in the study of fluffy ponies.
>Hasbio has had you front and center as the face of the new ‘Brainy’ pony breed they’ve begun producing. You’ve been on talk shows, in interviews, commercials, even a couple public relation events about educating fluffies.
>Brainy fluffy sales have been slow but your educating equipment has been met with great success. Owners will buy anything that helps keep them from having to bludgeon their lessons into their pets every week. They also like bragging about how their pony can sing some lullaby or count to ten in less than a minute, which you’re not surprised about.
>Right now though you’re driving home after consulting on one of the new educational shows FluffTV has started airing. It was one of those muppet type shows, the shag carpet fur the puppets have make them really endearing to fluffies. You knew that though, the tests told you that.
>You haven’t done tests since the project ended. You felt too uncomfortable stepping back in the lab. Easier to just write the new training manuals and review the results of other experiments not ran by you. Last one you read was about insulating and raising a group of amputated fluffies then introducing them to regular ones. The amputated ponies would refuse to admit they were the odd ones since they never grew up with any fluffy with legs and thought that sliding along on their belly like a slug was standard. “Cognitive dissonance causes deviation in original physiological programming to preserve emotional programming provided no external reminder exists during development. Fluffies forgot their instinctual knowledge of walking to stay happy.” You remember writing that.
>But you forgot that you’re finally home, you snap out of your daze as you exit your car and enter your house.
>There’s Runner waiting for you by the door, like usual. Bringing her back as your pet seemed like a smart idea but it went downhill. She can’t take living in the house without you around, her fear from the maze tests translated into a phobia of dead ends without anyone else around. To her, any room that isn’t the safe room looks like a dead end and you’ve heard her scream on multiple occasions. She took to sitting by the door and waiting for you after a while.
>You can see the stress in her eyes right now though and it only helps to remind you about the other tests you ran.
>You want to try and forget that stuff, both of you feel uncomfortable about this. Maybe you could train her to remove that fear but despite how smart she is as a fluffy, she’s still a fluffy.
>An idea comes to you, one that seems far more dramatic than it should. “Runner, today’s a very special day. You ready to see what’s so special?” You tell her in a soft tone, leaning down to pick her up and pet her. You can feel she’s shaking underneath all the fluffy hair. “Runner ready, hope it is spaghetti.” She says to you, her voice starting dull but rising up to some level of happiness. You rub a hand through her dark pink mane before leaving with her. You walk with her propped up under your arm for quite some time with her waving hello to your neighbors, then to some strangers across the street, then to some other fluffies being walked. She doesn’t pay attention to where you’re going.
>But when she notices where you’ve placed her on the ground, she’s confused. You never took her to the city park so a place so open and green makes her smile in wonder. “Runner like, Runner like! What new place? New place like lawn, so green!” She babbles off in excitement. You hold her still though to let her know why you really brought her here. “This is serious Runner, I’m going to give you a choice.”
>”Choice?” Runner asks, tilting her head in confusion. “Yes Runner, you’re a big fluffy now so I’m going to let you choose. This place is the park, it doesn’t have a bed, or a food bowl, or a litter box but… It doesn’t have any walls or rooms either and you can meet all sorts of new fluffies here. You can come back to the house with Mister Andrew and I’ll still feed you and keep you warm and love you or you can stay out here in the park and be free.”
>Her smile is starting to shrink, the gears are starting to click together. She stares around at everything, the clear blue sky, the trees, the little ants tumbling from their hills. She looks at you once more and asks “What free?”
>”Free is not worrying about walls or sorry sticks. It means you don’t have rules you need to follow. You understand?” Your voice is trembling. She slowly nods her fluffy little head. “Runner knows what free mean now.”
>You let go of her, she takes a few steps to turn around. And before you can even register it, she’s gone. You see one last trace of light blue in your sight before it vanishes into the green blend of shrubbery.
>You turn and leave, as much as you want to say you're going to regret this you really don't.
>In fact, you start to laugh. You've realized. She made the right choice.
>You presented her with two options and she avoided the one that won't change anything. The dead end of the two.
>The test was successful. By god, the test was successful!

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