>you jump on the hype-bandwagon and decide to get a fluffy pony
>it leaps with joy around its new home
>"can i pway ball" it asks you
>"sure" you reply
>the fluffy pony tries to grab the ball
>its mouth doesn't open that wide
>it starts crying because it can't play ball
>"hey...no come on, don't cry. we can play another game!" you say
>"i want play with BALL!" it screams through its tears
>it cries in a way that annoys you deeply
>"stop crying! we'll play another game" you say sternly
>"nooooo, BALL!" it continues
>even after having it for only half an hour, you've had enough
>you slightly calm down, maybe it is just a phase
>you pick the pink fuzz ball up, and bring it indoors
 
>three months later
>you come home from work
>you can't find 'fluffie puff' anywhere
>you look out the window, the fluffy pony is lying dead in the garden, surrounded by a pool of blood
>it couldn't play ball with you, so it decided to play ball with your dog
>but it became the dog's ball