It was dark inside the cage. Every twist and turn and pothole shook and rattled the metal, scaring Jeffrey more and more. He just laid there, his eyes covered with his hooves, hoping that this metal munstah will stop soon and his daddeh will let him out. Just laying there and huu-huuing. Finally, it stopped and Jeffrey moved his hooves and opened his see places to see his daddeh standing above him.
“Daddeh, can jeffwey come out of dah sowwy box nao. Jeffwey nu know what jeffwey did wwong, buh am sowwy.”
Michael just chuckles a bit and picks up the cage, ever so gently as to not scare Jeffrey anymore with bad upsies.
“You aren’t in trouble Jeff,” Michael began, “and it isn’t a sorry box. Just had to put you in there so we can go a very special place.”
“Skettie-wand?”
“No, not Skettie Land. Daddy has to run into work for a meeting today, so I’m gonna leave you at daycare today. You love daycare remember, full of toys, fresh food, and plenty of other fluffies to play with.”
Jeffrey’s heart sinks a little, he has always enjoyed daycare but every time he went, Witch Doctor was there. Witch Doctor was a big earth fluffy, his fluff was a jet black but his face fluff was bone white. Not only a scary looking fluffy, but a bully too. He would always batter and bruise Jeffrey, once making him num his poopies just because he thought it was funny; all the while making Jeffrey swear to not tell his daddeh or else he will make him go forever sleepies during nap time.
“Am wite daddeh,” Jeffrey said solemnly as they began to walk towards the door to the daycare, “jeffwey wikes daycawe.”
“Aww, don’t look so glum little guy,” Michael said as he opened the door and stepped inside, “I know you’d rather be home with me, but daddy made sure to make this a special visit. Ms. Penelope won’t be the caretaker today, they got Mister Jackson today!”
“MISTAH JACKSON!!” Jeffrey screeched, “Jeffwey wobes mistah jackson, mistah jackson has dah bestes’ show on tee-bee!”
“And you are gonna be able to meet and play with him all day little guy.”
Michael places the cage on the counter where a secretary sits behind it. She hands some forms to him, taking Jeffrey carefully out of the cage as Michael fills them out.
“Lot of fluffies in today,” the secretary spoke, “they can’t get enough of Jackson, not since the Playpen started airing a few weeks ago.”
Michael gives back the forms and the secretary starts walking Jeffrey into the daycare, he watches as his daddeh leaves, but the excitement to see mistah Jackson has giddy beyond belief. The door opens and there he is, Mister Jackson himself. He was tall, even taller than daddeh, Jeffrey thought to himself. The lights in the room shined off the top of his head and the fluff on his face was bigger and fluffier than Jeffrey saw on TV. And the smile, he had the biggest and jolliest smile, the kind like Santa Claus sees come the cold times.
Jeffrey walked up to the man himself with the secretary next to him.
“Got another one for you,” she said to Jackson.
“A full house then,” Mister Jackson spoke gleefully, he squatted down and looked Jeffrey right in the eyes, smiling all the while, “And what is your name little one?”
“Fwuffy’s name am jeffwey an’ am su happy to see an’ pway wiff 'ou mistah jackson!”
“So am I Jeffrey, so am I. Why don’t you run along and play with the other fluffies while I set up the games for today.”
Jeffrey was so happy and excited, he trotted away with speed, meeting up with Sheila, a green and red pegasus he has played with everyday since first coming to the daycare. The two ran around for a couple hours with the other fluffies, playing all sorts of games, like tag, hide-and-seek, and stacking blocks. All of them waiting in such anticipation for the games Mistah Jackson was going to have ready for them.
By lunch time, Mistah Jackson had finished preparing a special meal for all of the fluffies, a plate of skettie flavored kibble topped with real spaghetti to help digest the already good tasting food. The fair-hearted, bearded man poured a healthy helping to each one. Jeffrey’s mouth was filled with water, his eyes losing moisture, euphoria was setting in until a shadow draped over his meal. Looking up was a fluffy that itself was a large shadow and whose face was that of a skull.
“Dis am witch doctah’s nummies nao stoopi’ jeffwey,” The big fluffy spoke, “Am biggah den ‘ou, su witch doctah nee’ mowe nummies. ‘ou am smaww an’ stoopi’, ‘ou nu nee’ much nummies.”
“Buh…” Jeffrey stuttered, “buh these am mistah jackson speshuw nummies.”
“Nu cawe! Dey’we mine nao ow witch doctah wiww gib owwies tu 'ou.”
Jeffrey was scared, he always took Witch Doctor’s beatings but something about the special occasion made his blood boil. He puffed out his cheeks and began to stomp his feet furiously.
“Fwuff 'ou witch doctow!” Jeffrey shouted as loud as he could, “these am jeffwey’s nummies an’ onwy jeffwey’s. 'ou hab youw own, nao go 'way ow jeffwey’ww gib 'ou foweba sweepies!”
A hard force came down upon Jeffrey’s eye, knocking him to the floor. The shadow came to tower over him.
“Stoopi’ jeffwey, shouwd’be just wet witch doctah hab youw nummies.”
Three more blows came down on Jeffrey as he covered his face, two to the chest and once more to the head, he just lay there taking it as water rolled down his cheeks and a soft chirping began. Then it stopped as swiftly as it began, Jeffrey moved his hooves to see Mistah Jackson holding Witch Doctor by the fluff on the back of his neck.
“Now what is going on here?” The giant asked.
“Witch doctah was buwwyin’ jeffwey, mistah jackson” Sheila spoke up, “Witch doctah was gibin’ jeffwey huwties an’ owies 'cos jeffwey wouwdn’t gib witch doctow jeffway’s nummies.”
“Well then,” Jackson looked right into the eyes of Witch Doctor, “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Nu cawe!” The fluffy screeched, “Witch doctah am big an’ stwong an’ gets whatebah witch doctah wan’.” The fluffy’s cheeks puffed out and anger flashed across it’s face. “Wet witch doctow down ow witch doctah’ww gib ‘ou sowwy poopies an’ biggest huwties.”
Mister Jackson just smirked, “Try it.”
And so he did, except instead of going on Jackson, Witch Doctor only succeeded in shitting on the floor. Jackson then quickly took the fluffy and shoved its face into its own shit, holding it for half a minute and then pulling it back up. Witch Doctor was coughing and hacking.
“Will you look at that fluffies,” Jackson beckoned, “All of the Witch Doctor’s fluff matches.”
Laughter erupted in the room as the bully began to cover his face and hold his tail with his hooves. Jackson soon placed Witch Doctor into the sorry box in the corner of the room before returning to the meal room. Squating down once again to see Jeffrey.
“Took a heck of a beating, little Jeff,” he said consolingly, “But you stood up for yourself and what was yours, that makes you very brave.” He turned and became loud enough so all other fluffies in the room could hear. “Come on fluffies, Jeffrey has some owwies, why don’t you give him some huggies to make them better.”
Sheila was first to hug her bestest, good friend causing small tears of joy to fall, and then came Claude, and Lori, and Dave, and Deni, and Jon, and Nick, and so many more until a fluffpile formed, all for Jeffrey.
Everything soon returned to normal as Jeffrey played with Sheila and the other fluffies amongst Mistah Jackson’s mazes and obstacle courses all for the grand prize of one of Jackson’s bestest huggies. By nap time, most of the fluffs were all tuckered out, Jeffrey included. Jackson noticed and set up a chair and sat, looking over all in their blankets and beds and piles.
“Well friends, its time for sleep and for me to leave.” An aura of melancholy soon filled the room with a silent cry here and there. “But that doesn’t mean we have to be sad or cry about it,” Jackson reassured. “And I’m going to give you one last gift to help you drift to sleep and something to hold onto until we see each other next time.”
Jackson pulled out Wusty and began to tune it, noticing Jeffrey watching tiredly but with good intentions. He leaned over and gently picked up the exhausted fluff, placing him on his knee.
“A special seat for our brave boy, and a special song that reminded me of you. A song about another brave fluffy who tried to do everything right for his herd, Toughie Red.”
You fought all the way, Toughie Red, Toughie Red
You fought all the way, Toughie Red
Saw you a-marchin’ with that ol’ smart-y
You held your head up high, tryin’ to find the nummies
You fought for your herd but you didn’t die in vain
Even though you lost, they still remember your name
'Cause you fought all the way, Toughie Red, Toughie Red
You fought all the way, Toughie Red
I heard your teef chatter from the cold outside
Saw the munstahs bite the wounds in your side
I saw the young foals as they begin to fall
You had wawas in your eyes, 'cause you couldn’t hug 'em all
But you fought all the way, Toughie Red, Toughie Red
You fought all the way, Toughie Red
When the other herds heard all about your fall
Most thought they’d sing a dancie-babbeh song
But all they heard were the mummahs cry
For you Toughie Red, 'cause they were by your side
'Cause you fought all the way, Toughie Red, Toughie Red
Yeah, you fought all the way, Toughie Red
You fought all the way, Toughie Red
And soon the eyes of every fluffy closed and drifted into the sea of dreams. Jeffrey, though trying his hardest stayed awake the longest watched as Jackson put away Wusty and picked him up gently once again. He hugged the fluff against his face, nuzzling it.
“That one was for you, my little brave boy.” Jackson carefully placed Jeffrey down next to Sheila, starting to creep slowly to the main door. “Until next time friend, I can’t wait to play with you again.” He opened the door and left through it, slowly and carefully closing it behind himself.
Jeffrey, like all the others, closed his eyes too, but with a large smile across his face and a tear in his eyes, just like Toughie Red.
Previous airing of Mistah Jackson’s Playpen