Fluffywood Studios. Home of The Fluff Network. This is a place where dreams come true.
But you’ve probably wondered, what’s it like working in Fluffywood? Is it all glitter and glamour, or is there a dark, sleazy side?
Well, let’s find out.
SCRIPTWRITING
Most people don’t realize just how much effort goes into writing the material for The Fluff Network. The educational shows are easy enough, but then there’s Captain Fluffy. The writing team is working on the next episode right now.
You have to think really hard, and look at things from a lower, fluffier point of view, when writing for TFN. You have to remember not to get too complicated. The AAs are smart enough to understand relatively complicated plots, at least as complex as something like that Pokey-man anime thing, but most of the audience at home is dumb as bricks, and need simple plots with clear morals.
“How about we do another Doctor Bad-Poopies episode?”, a young woman with mousy hair asks.
“No, Sarah. We did a Doctor Bad-Poopies one last week. And we’re using him too much. There’s only so many insidious plots to shower Fluffhattan in fluffy shit we can come up with.”
The head writer, Cecil von Drachen, leans back in his seat, rubbing his temples.
Sometimes, he thinks to himself, I think my idiot son has the right idea, working in Department XXX. Edward, Eddy to his friends, writes the scripts for the, ah, adult fluffy entertainment. He’s got it easy. The plots are ready-made, he just has to translate them into Fluffspeak. Cecil had to admit that the “extra meatballs” line was a good one.
Another junior writer speaks up.
“How about Dark Captain Fluffy? We haven’t used him in a while. I always did like evil twin plots.”
“Yeah, but the AAs always get confused about which Captain Fluffy is which. When they’re in costume, Chris and Wyatt look identical.”
“Isn’t that the whole point of an evil twin?”
“Don’t be a smartass, Alan.”
Alan shuts up. An older writer, Jerry, speaks up.
“Maybe we could redesign Dark Captain Fluffy? Oh, we could make a whole storyline about that, to explain the change!”
Cecil stops to consider this.
Yeah, it could actually work! And the merchandising department would love it too! He’ll have to tell the costume department to work on a new Dark Captain Fluffy costume immediately.
Reinvigorated and inspired, the writing team gets to work.
SHOOTING
Xavier Laine looks at the recalcitrant fluffy. He’s ranting at the director and waving a hoof at him and kicking and stomping and refusing to do his job. This will not stand. Fluffywood does not tolerate insubordination like this.
The rest of the staff, human or fluffy, is silently watching. When Xavier entered the room, every fluffy’s eyes focused on him. Except Andy’s. The other stars know Mr. Laine is not happy, and that bad things are about to happen to Andy.
“Andy.”
“An Andee wan biggew houwsie, an Andee wan sketties twee times a day, an Andee wan enfie mawes, wots of enfie mawes…”
“Andy.” Xavier raises his voice.
“Andee nu gun say wun mowe wine untiw Andee get wut Andee desewve…”
“ANDY!”
“An Andee wan own show! Andee tuu gud tu shawe spotwite…”
“ANDY!”
Andy stops ranting and looks at Xavier, finally noticing his presence. “Wut.”
“We’ve talked about this. You cannot behave like this at Fluffywood. You are supposed to be a professional.”
Andy snorts, walking over to glare up at Xavier. “Nu cawe. Andee wan wut Andee desewve.”
“Oh, you don’t care? Well let me tell you this. If you don’t get on set right now and play your part for the nice director, your career is over, mister!”
“Andee nu cawe abouwt dummeh diwectow! Andee nu cawe abouwt dummeh caweew! AN ANDEE NU CAWE ABOUWT DUMMEH MISTAH WAINE!”
Andy turns around, lifting up his tail.
“ANDEE GIB SOWWY POOPIES!”
As one, every other fluffy in the room gasps. They know that sorry poopies are not allowed, and any fluffy that does them is immediately booted off the gravy train. Only the illest-behaved and dumbest of fluffies would throw away a life of luxury for sorry poopies.
Xavier glares.
“Andy, if you dare–”
But he’s too late. With a loud fffrrrrrrrrtttt, Andy lets it rip.
Xavier dodges the foul stream with the reflexes of a jungle cat. He glares harder, his face turning red. Andy realises five seconds too late that he’s screwed himself over.
“Andy?”
“W-w-wut?”
At a snap of Xavier’s fingers, one of the bigger, stronger stagehands grabs Andy, to stuff him into a carrier. His career-- and unbeknownst to the other AAs, his life-- is over.
“You’ll never work in this town again.”
POST-PRODUCTION
This isn’t as challenging as writing or as glamorous and exciting as shooting. This is mostly just adding special effects, sound effects, and soundtracks, redubbing flubbed lines with human voice actors (Tara Strong can do fluffy voices so well that it confuses the poor fluffies who hear her do it in person) and editing out wings and/or horns, because some fluffies still cannot tolerate alicorns. The studio has to take care that the appropriate parts are covered up during public appearances.
Removing the horns is easy. There’s this little green sheath thing they put on the AA’s horns. Removing the wings is a bit trickier, but can be done.
“Dude, these sound effects we have to work with are so lame! There’s no good explosion sounds, just little puffs and poofs!”, one technician complains, a scrawny young man with glasses. “Sanjay, back me up here!”
Sanjay, an Indian man a few years older than the other technician, doesn’t say a thing, too busy methodically working on removing wings like an abuser with OCD.
“Ahh, screw you then. What about you, Paul? You agree with me, right? These sounds need more pop!”
“Shut up, Gary. We’re trying to work, here. Unlike you.” Paul snarks, while replacing one of Captain Fluffy’s flubbed lines with a recording by Mrs. Strong. “Besides, we’re trying to entertain the audience, not scare them. It’s funny you said pop, because even a balloon popping can frighten a fluffy. And the suits aren’t happy about the stunt you pulled last month.”
“Oh, you sneak one screamer into an episode of Splorin Safely and they never let you forget it.” Gary complains, pushing up his glasses.
“Will you just stop bitching, already? Get back to work on those sound effects.”
“Nah, fuck this, this is dumb. I knew I should have asked my dad for a job. Killing fluffies is much more fun than this shit.” And that’s exactly why Gary’s father didn’t offer him a job. He exterminates stray fluffies humanely, and Gary would drag it out.
Gary isn’t too popular in the post department. The higher-ups don’t like him much either. Mr. Laine can’t stand abusers like Gary. He’s probably not going to be around for much longer.
And that, as those in the biz say, is a wrap. As you can see, it’s not that different from human showbusiness. The writers struggle to come up with original plots, the director has to deal with the occasional prima donna, any mistakes are dumped on post to fix, and the stars live pampered lives unless they screw up big-time.
But hey, you know what they say.
There ain’t no business like showbusiness!