Kelvin Rockefeller is a little man. You could call him a little person, or a midget like many do, but he is in fact a dwarf. Medically speaking of course. Stocky, he stands three foot six inches. His limbs being slightly shorter than proportional for a man his size.
He was born small in stature, but not in spirit. Growing up he made many friends, and lived an exceptional life. Popular and charismatic he took up acting as a teen and signed on with an entertainment group after he graduated.
The traveling group toured Renaissance Festivals and carnivals. Kelvin took many roles in the group. Over his career he has been child, hero, maiden, ghost, living shrubbery, and even a wise cracking owl.
His signature skit was a wonderfully choreographed fight between himself and the Eddy the strongman. Eddy would be dressed as a giant terrorizing a mock village. Kelvin would ride in wearing full body armor atop a miniature Shetland pony.
The crowd would go crazy as Eddy and Kelvin battled blade to club. The final move was to leap from the pony, sword drawn, and deal the deathblow to his chest. Eddy of coarse would simply catch him and fall to the ground in dramatic death throws.
That is until Eddy broke his leg on the goddamned bumper boats 30 minutes to curtain.
People had paid for entertainment, and management wasn’t going to give back the money. They needed a new draw. And fast.
Just as Kelvin’s boss was about the have a stroke, he saw them. Fluffies. They were always around the park eating the scattered popcorn and cotton candy that littered the ground at any festival.
They were a nuisance, and always underfoot. Sure they went with the medieval mythology, but their constant begging, shitting and humping really took the fun out of having a Pegasus following you around.
But today they might just be the answer. He told you to get into costume and wait.
Five minutes before curtain Kelvin’s boss shows up with a battle-axe and a bucket of what appears to be spaghetti. He explains to Kelvin what to do, pats him on the shoulder, hands him the items and walks away.
Kelvin smiles and steps into the ring.
He looks up into the crowd as he walks to the center of the colosseum/theater pit of these particular fairgrounds. The announcer explains the misfortune that has befallen your partner and warns of the nature of the backup entertainment. Cheers erupted and some families leave.
“Ladies and gentleman, many drunken arguments have popped up over this very scene we see tonight. Who would win in a fight between a dwarf and a hundred hungry fluffies?”
The cheers are deafening.
Kelvin sets down his axe, and grasps the bucket of noodles and sauce in both hands. Not quite reaching above his head he dumps the contents over himself. Covered head to toe in spaghetti he picks up the axe and yells, “OPEN THE GATES!”
Silence falls across the crowd. You can hear cages being opened and fluffies upturned. Soon they hear it. A soft chorus of hungry fluffies; each chanting, “Skettis!”
A multicolored wave flows from the sides of the arena. Fluffies big and small charge toward Kelvin, oblivious or uncaring of the crowd above them. Kelvin can feel the floor shake with the patter or soft hooves, and see the desperate need in each of their eyes.
As the closest fluffy nears he raises his axe and steps toward them. He brings it down and cleaves two as the herd swarms past him. They are still pouring in even as they descend on the spaghetti that missed him. He worries if this will even be entertaining enough.
After a few more swings of the axe he worries if he would survive. They finished off everything on the ground and were now upon him. Jumping and pushing, Kelvin found himself face to face with fluffies trying for the noodles stuck in his armor.
Tidal waves of fluffy bodies pressed him from all sides. Now drenched in sweat, his stubby arms were feeling the weight of a real weapon. Chop, chop, chop. More fluffies dead, more fluffies attacking.
They overwhelmed him, and he fell backwards. Fluffies covered his face, biting a licking and suffocating Kelvin. Panicking, he let go his axe and got to his knees. He started punching and tearing at herd as they piled on top of him.
He gave a mighty shout and flung off the fluffies from his back. Kicking and throwing those in his way, he grabbed the axe once again. The Fluffies would not beat him they would not win.
Kelvin got serious. He controlled his breathing and worked the axe to a rhythm. Blood and fur were everywhere. He had trouble keeping hold of him weapon. But, he kept going.
Finally he saw the end of them. Just a few trying to crawl to the spaghetti, or away from the monster. He made quick work of those stragglers around him. At the edge a fluffy Pegasus had decided it wasn’t worth it yelling, “meany monster!” as it ran away.
Kelvin took aim and hurled his axe. He watched it arch though the air and connect with the shitty beast. With a thunk it cut through the back of the head and pinned the twitching body to the ground.
It was then he surveyed the gory mess that surrounded him. Blood filled the arena, splattered the walls all the way up to the crowd. They, of course, were going nuts. Instinct took over and Kelvin bowed, dislodged the axe from the fluffy’s corpse and exit the stage.
Exhausted, Kelvin walked over and sat on a crate to remove his blood-covered armor. His boss stopped by and asked him how he was doing. Kelvin looked up at him and simply smiled and said, “Next time, make it two hundred.”