(There should be a “Shaving” tag or something similar.)
Eric was walking mildly drunk out of his favorite bar when he heard it:
“NU! Smawty say dummeh poopie fwuffies gu away, nu can be hewe!”
Two small herds of fluffies had met right outside Eric’s favorite bar. Well “herds” was overstating it, it was two groups of three fluffies.
The first group had a lime-green extra-fluffy pegasus leading it as the smarty with a white and beige unicorn and orange and black earthie backing him up toughies.
The second group was a brown earthie, brown unicorn, and another brown earthie. They didn’t have a smarty, none of them were assertive enough to claim the role.
Eric realized the Smarty must be trying to drive off the brown fluffies. Then he had an idea.
Eric ran back inside the bar, grabbed the razors and shaving cream from the testicle-shaving station in the men’s restroom, and then got his drinking buddies to follow him outside.
Outside the Smarty was about to order his toughies to attack when both herds were set upon by Eric and his drinking buddies. The fluffies screamed as they were violently shaved by drunk men.
Once it was over six freshly-shorn fluffies shivered on the sidewalk.
“Huu, wai take bestest Smawty’s pwetty fwuff?!” the Smarty whined.
Eric pointed at the fluffies.
“There! Now you can’t discriminate based on the color of your fluff anymore!”
The fluffies looked at each other and realized Eric was right.
“Now that the source of your bigotry has been removed you can all get along together and-”
“WOOK!”
One of the fluffies pointed at the Smarty. The Smarty’s thick fluff had been hiding a horn. The Smarty was actually an alicorn!
“MUNSTAH!” screamed the five other fluffies.
The Smarty looked around in terror, trying to figure out where the monster was.
“Gibe da munstah sowwy-hoofies and fowebeh-sweepies!”
The five other fluffies set upon the Smarty and beat him to death, then fled together into the night.
Eric looked at the Smarty’s pummeled corpse and sighed.
“Oh well, next time I’ll just kill fluffies right away instead of trying to teach them a lesson.”
Just then another bar patron stumbled outside, pulling up his pants.
“Who the FUCK took all the razors?! I need to shave my testicles!”
The moral of this story is that any resources used to try to fix fluffy behavior are wasted.