Hammon McPhisten : Fuck My Life
(Early Morning, the day that Spaghetti Park opens to the general public.)
>Be Hammon McPhisten, Mayor of Cleveland.
>Got the embarrassing nickname of ‘Ham-Fisting’ by a political rival, and despite a continous, heroic effort by your PR people, it’s stuck.
>Fucker. Still, he’s rotting somewhere in a dead-end job, while you’re a Mayor, soon to be climbing that political ladder …
>But fuck everything, Cleveland has a horrific debt problem, the whole damn city has been a financial black hole for the entire country, let alone the state, for over a decade now.
>You’ve kept it from getting worse, slowed the unemployment plunge to a crawl and tried your damndest to keep the city from going under. Unfortunately all you’ve done is to slow the rate money was being lost, not reversed it.
>Nothing fucking worked for long, and you were running out of ideas … if something didn’t change soon, no matter how much ass you kissed in the political arena, you’d be replaced by some yes-man at the next election.
>Then some twit came up with the idea of a Theme Park aimed specifically at attracting these ‘Fluffy Pony Lovers’. Greg Somethingorother was his name, you think.
>“Fluffy Pony Lovers” … bunch of queers and half-pied freaks as far as you were concerned, but whatever, so long as it got Cleveland out of the hole the previous administrations had left it in, you’d’ve green-lighted National Sodomy Land.
>Some quick, subtle digging on the subject made it clear that this ‘Spaghetti Land’ theme park had the potential to be as big as Disneyland.
>FUCKING YES.
>So glad you listened to Richard Moloch on this. Man’s solid gold on these sorts of situations, damn whatever black marks might be on his file.
>Even paid for all the fire-works out of his own pocket.
>Bought outright a team of Furry deviants who did some sort of show for the annoying horse-pig-sheep-midgets every morning and used them to subtly psych the Fluffy Ponies up, and then dropped the bombshell of the Theme Park on National News a few weeks afterwards.
>Genius. Within two days of the news going public, the 75,000 tickets for the first ‘day’ of the Park opening had been snapped up at $110 each.
>Park cost five million to put together, with close to 2 million a month in wages, power, insurance and supplies. The Park needs to make $30,000,000 a month just to make ends meet.
>Before the park even opened to the public, it made Cleveland $8,250,000 in pre-sold tickets for the very first day. And then there’s the ‘all day spaghetti’ pass for the Fluffy Ponies, plus the $5 a pop rides and games …
>For the first time in a decade, you laughed without having to force it.
>Trying to channel that joy as you stand at the gates of the Theme Park, the over-sized, gilded ‘opening ceremony’ scissors in your fat, sweating hands.
>Spent close to a half a million on exterminators to keep the Ferals away, and tried your damdest to keep it quiet.
>Park won’t make enough money if the Ferals somehow get in and ruin the place by shitting everywhere and begging Spaghetti off the Rubes, er, Customers.
>For a Decade, you’ve tried to whittle down their populations, but the poisoned spaghetti traps ended up killing more Hobos than Fluffies, the ‘Great White Fluffy Hunters’ were a PR Nightmare when they started putting up their exploits on YouTube.
>Disgusting stuff, and you hate the Fluffy Ponies yourself. You didn’t object to the deaths, just the manner the Hunters chose. Being linked to some mouth-breathing retard raping something to death is not good for your Image as the Mayor who will Save Cleveland.
>City has about fifty thousands Fluffy Ponies, fluctuating with winter and low rain, but with the surge of Ferals heading north to your precious city, the Ferals have been conservatively numbered at 1.5 million.
>JEEEEEEEEEEEEESUS! And there’s millions more heading north, with every soft-hearted motherfucker giving them aid.
>Truckers are actually ferrying Herds north.
>Whole convoys of retired couples with caravans and mobile homes giving the Herds food, water and protecting their Pregnant Dams, which means the Herds are moving even faster now!
>So all those exterminators, hard at work rounding up Fluffy Ponies and killing them out of sight (and hopefully mind) of your constituents, and somehow they managed to fuck it up.
>The main road that leads to the theme park is clogged with the little fluffy fuckers. About 9 or 10 thousand of them at your best guess.
>Stallions cheering and hugging, crying about “Wong Jhou-ney ovah!”
>Mares with Foals on their back, jumping up and down excitedly, shouting “Baybehs neva haf Tummeh-Owies 'gain!”.
>Younger Fluffies hugging Old Fluffies with their Fluff turning grey, whom are sobbing and thanking ‘Gweat Fwuffie Uni’ for letting them ‘wiv to see dis day.’
>Those exterminators are going to get their bonuses slashed for this!
>Every TV Station has sent their camera crews out to cover the opening ceremony, and now all those cameras are focused on you and the cheering, shoving Herds as they clog the road, with the paying Customers on the sidewalks holding their own disgusting little critters and taking photos as well.
>At least everybody seems to think it’s some sort of PR Stunt. All those Fluffy Ponies, eager to enter the park, shouting with joy and delight. At least there’s no brawling going on, courtesy of your ‘Handlers’ walking up and down the sidewalks, telling the Fluffy Ponies to be good, or Spaghetti Land will never open.
>Immediately makes the Ferals stop squabbling and ‘be good’. Might have something to do with the fact your handlers are identical octuplets by way of two WWF Wrestlers, bald as eggs and about as expressive as Angry Boulders.
>Which apparently translates into 'stop pushing each other and babbling about spaghetti land and start hugging each other and babble louder about spaghetti land."
>Your PR Department screaming down the phone-line and into the reciever in your ear that any attempt to forcibly remove these Ferals will cause an irrepairable amount of damage to the carefully cultivated image of ‘Spaghetti Land’ as a Fluffy Pony Friendly holiday destination.
>But if you let them in … the very first day of the only thing in the past decade that might pull the city of Cleveland, and your own Political Ambitions, out of trouble could be ruined.
>FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF where is that guy? Greg Whatshisface? He’s the one who came up with the fucking idea in the first place!
>God, what a …
>… wait.
>“You!” You whisper hoarsely at one of your ‘handlers’, guesturing for him to come over.
>“Mayor?” He asks, bald and expressionless behind his dark glasses and ear-piece.
>“Get those Furry Deviants suited up and ready to meet me behind the gates in two minutes.” You whisper, shooting your best fake ‘Trust Me’ smile at the rubes. “We might just salvage this yet!”
>“You don’t have to fucking understand, JUST DO WHAT I FUCKING SAID!” The bald, bulldog-faced Mayor swore, poking his lit cigar at the assembled Fluffy Suit Pilots, turning a dangerous shade of purple. “We’ve got ten thousand of your horse-sheep-pig-abominations out there, and if they ruin this day, you will rue the day you came to Cleveland.”
>You are Natasha Googaluv, and your gal-pal Sammy and the rest of the crew just blink and shrug.
>Well, whatever.
>Mayor Ham-Fisting doesn’t seem to realise you’ve captured the entire tirade on the cameras in the Suits. If it all goes to shit, well, it was his idea, after all.
>Suiting up takes just a minute, and soon ‘Eddy’ and ‘Pip’ are shuffling towards the back of the Main Gates, while you shuffle out to where the Mayor will be waiting.
>Actually, no, fuck his speech. You’re going to ad-lib the fuck out of this. You’ve been ‘Uni’ for close to five years now, surely you can handle this?
>“UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Every Stallion and Colt in the ‘Crowd’ groans, popping boners immediately the moment ‘Uni’ trotts onto stage.
>Well … fuck. At least they aren’t trying to climb up onto the platform and give ‘Speshaw Huggies’.
>See there’s a lot of them with injuries, missing chunks out of their ears, deep scratches festering on their faces and legs.
>There’s one grey Fluffy at the front, with an obviously broken leg, leaning on a young brown Filly for support, staring at you with an adorating expression, the young Filly gazing at you with awe and delight written across her face.
>“Dat hew!” You hear him shout above the hubub of the people watching this from the sidelines and the Ferals. “Wook, Bwandy, dat de Uni dat Mumma-Bwandy an’ Diwt teww yuu 'bout!”
>“Fwiends! Yuu came! Uni so happeh!” You ‘cheer’ at them, doing the ‘trotting on the spot’ dance that the Fluffy Ponies love so much. “Uni so happeh, but Fwuffies haf be guud! Nu wun, nu haf fites! Pwenty of Sketti for yuu!”
>Fluffies, both Feral and Tame, cheer and cry tears of joy. Some of the Stallions immediately start the butt-bouncing game, unable to control their urges, but most seem … strangely calmer. Boners, yes, but not that overwhelming Lust they used to display.
>They can see the giant ‘Tower’ of Spaghetti in the background, and their Idol is before them, promising them entrance if they be good to each other.
>Heh, never thought the day would come when you’d be grateful food was more important than your Sex Appeal.
>“Fiwst, Fwuffies tank Nice Hoomin, Mistah McPhisten.” ‘Uni’ says, turning side on to point at the nervous, sweaty Mayor with her horn. “Dis is Nice Hoomin who make Sketti Wand fo’ Fwuffies! He is Best Nice Hoomin evah!”
>“Hooway!” “Wuv Mista Muh-Phisen!” “Nice Hoomins! Nice Hoomins wuv Fwuffies!” “Nu Munstas! Wuv Muh-Phisen!” Thousands of Fluffy voices shout. Awwwww …
>Nope, McPhisten looks nervous still. Keeps shooting you glances, there’s sweat dripping off his hands as they wrap around the ornate, over-sized scissors, ready to snip the ceremonial cloth barrier to open the Theme Park at a moment’s notice.
>You’ve deviated from his script … heh. Poor bastard’s probably expecting a knife in the back right about now, judging from his attitude over the past few days.
>“Uni sing to Fwuffies, Fwuffies wisten, den sing too, oh’tay?” You shout, and the Fluffies cheer once again, a wordless wave of delight that washes over you.
>“Sketti Wand, Sketti Wand, Fwuffies wuv da Sketti Wand!” You start to sing, watching the Ferals Closely as your suit bobs left, then right. Good, they’re still paying attention …
>“Sketti Wand, Sketti Wand, Fun fo’ Fwuffies! Sketti Wand!” They’re bouncing up and down, mouthing the words…
>“Sketti Wand, Sketti Wand, so many Bawws! Sketti Wand!” The Foals start jumping up and down on their mother’s backs, but you’re sure they’ve never even seen a Ball before …
>“Sketti Wand, Sketti Wand! Aww Fwuffies come to Sketti Wand!” You finish, then shout “Now Fwuffies sing tuu!”
>Amazingly enough, they can keep the beat so long as you keep swaying at the same pace as you were during the song. You even sing with them, as do the Owners on the Sidewalks and their Fluffies too.
>Mayor McPhisten no longer looks like he’s trying to immitate an egg-plant and has assumed a more normal shade.
>Give him the quickest of nods, and he holds up the scissors after the Fluffies stop singing, illicting a cheer from everyone, and cuts the ribbon.
>“I, Mayor Hammon McPhisten, now pronounce Spaghetti Land to be … OPEN!” He says loudly down the microphone, and the gates swing open to reveal the Park itself, with Eddy and Pip standing there, kazoos at the ready.
>“Awww Fwuffies wit’ nu Hoomins, fowwow Uni! We get yuu to Safe Pwace, an’ den Fwuffies wit’ Hoomins come in tuu!” You make the Uni suit trot on the spot again, shuffling backwards while keeping Uni’s ‘eyes’ on the Herd.
>All the Fluffies shuffle forwards, against all odds behaving themselves, totally focused on Uni leading them towards the Spaghetti Mountain. Many of them are crying tears of pure joy, shouting “Fwuffie haf so many fewws!”.
>Not one incident of pushing or shoving or bawling about Fluffies being mean…
>“Pwenty of Sketti fo’ Evwy Fwuffie! Nu haf wowwy, Uni and Bruddas make sure evwy Fwuffy shawe an’ haf Guud Time!” You promise as Eddy and Pip flank you, and you lead the Ferals away towards the back of the park.
>“Sketti Wand, Sketti Wand, Fwuffies come an’ Pway!” You sing, Sammy and yourself making your suit sway and giggle for all you’re worth.
>“Sketti Wand, Sketti Wand, We haf come to Pway!” The Ferals ‘sing’ lustily in rough approximation of harmony.
>“Sketti Wand, Sketti Wand, Fwuffies haf some nummies!” Eddy and Pip add, dancing about as well.
>“Sketti Wand, Sketti Wand, Fwuffies haf guud Nummies!” The Ferals cheer, dancing about as well, well, more like stumbling, but cute stumbling.
>“Sketti Wand, Sketti Wand, Wunnaful Sketti Day!” The three ‘latex’ Fluffies sing together.
>“Sketti Wand, Sketti Wand, We awways wanna stay!” The Fluffy Ponies cry out in joy as their first ranks stumble into Spaghetti Land, supported by their friends and family, their eyes with with tears and delight as they take in their first glimpse of this Magical Paradise for Fluffy Ponies.
>Can hear over the short-range radio that the Super Speedy Spaghetti Squeezy has been working overtime. Spaghetti is being delivered to the back entrance by every available worker in the theme park.
>Ferals will be given their Spaghetti, be entertained by the Pilots of the ‘Baww’ suits, and when the time is right, escorted out the back towards vans that will take them to the nearest Shelters.
>Phew! Looks like this might just work after all!
