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       Fall Of Cleveland
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       #Post#: 153--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Story Bits
   DIR By: Marcusmaximus
       Date: June 3, 2012, 2:36 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       --- Quote from: Tabula_Rojo link ---
       >
       > Before we left the other Forum I proposed a story about a guy
       (a hugboxer of sorts) who had lost his most recent Fluffy and
       decides to get a Fuzzy. While atfirst he's thrilled with it's
       good behavior he slowly realizes that Fuzzies are no where near
       as fun and he ends up dumping the Fuzzy in a passing herd
       >
       > although that ending worked better with the virus thing but
       whatever I'd still like to do the main idea there
       >
       --- End Quote ---
       Actually, that would create a few interesting possibilities for
       stories, since the Fuzzy from a loving home who ended up
       abandoned presumably wouldn't be 109'd.
       In fact, if his owner instructed him that these Fluffies were
       his friends, and he should stay with and look after them, it
       could set up for some very interesting conflicts.
       Just a thought.
       #Post#: 154--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Story Bits
   DIR By: Lord Anubis
       Date: June 3, 2012, 2:51 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       --- Quote from: Marcusmaximus link ---
       >
       > Actually, that would create a few interesting possibilities
       for stories, since the Fuzzy from a loving home who ended up
       abandoned presumably wouldn't be 109'd.
       >
       > In fact, if his owner instructed him that these Fluffies were
       his friends, and he should stay with and look after them, it
       could set up for some very interesting conflicts.
       >
       > Just a thought.
       >
       --- End Quote ---
       One good fuzzy in a city where 100 fuzzies are out for fluffy
       blood? That sounds great. And yes, he wouldn't have gotten the
       109 code.
       #Post#: 155--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Story Bits
   DIR By: PhilSrobeighn
       Date: June 3, 2012, 3:07 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       At some point I had an idea that there were a bunch of F2.0s in
       Spaghetti Land, all nice and friendly, until someone gets onto a
       mic at a restaurant and calls for lunch order 109.
       #Post#: 177--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Story Bits
   DIR By: Lord Anubis
       Date: June 4, 2012, 1:10 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       I changed some bits to my exterminator story, namely the part
       that I completely forgot to add about him spraying to keep other
       fluffies away from the property. Derp.
       If it's alright with everyone, I'm going to upload it to my
       Pastebin as the first Phase 1 story.
       #Post#: 184--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Story Bits
   DIR By: Tabula_Rojo
       Date: June 4, 2012, 10:10 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       --- Quote from: Lord Anubis link ---
       >
       > I changed some bits to my exterminator story, namely the part
       that I completely forgot to add about him spraying to keep other
       fluffies away from the property. Derp.
       > If it's alright with everyone, I'm going to upload it to my
       Pastebin as the first Phase 1 story.
       >
       --- End Quote ---
       seems fair, considering how little it has to do with the actual
       fall and everything
       #Post#: 187--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Story Bits
   DIR By: fluff_n_stuff
       Date: June 4, 2012, 12:20 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       >You are Indigo, an earth pony smarty friend.
       >Your herd numbers in the "a lot." So many fluffies, you can't
       even count them all, and you can even count to four, four times.
       >It's a veritable sea of multicolored fluff as they waddle in
       the grassy area between the rows of hot black ground.
       >With so many fluffies, you travel far every day just to make
       sure there's grassies enough to feed them all.
       >But soon, you won't have to worry about grassies.
       > You won't have to worry about the loud munster that turns
       fluffies into boo-boo juice and fluff.
       >You won't have to worry about the scary fast boxes that makes
       fluffies flat.
       >Spaghetti Land is only a few more dark times away. You remember
       this because your former owner once took you to this mythical
       "Cwevawand"
       >You remember it all so well, but the fluffies that follow you
       are tired. With so many, there is never enough food to fill
       everyone's bellies.
       >And there are so many mommies. Dozens upon dozen of mommies
       that take so much time to get rolled through the grassies.
       >At this rate, Spaghetti Land seems like a dream that your
       babies will have to fulfill for you. It's all too much.
       >"Wook!" yells Clover, your second in command. "Dat sketti
       mountain?"
       >"Sketti?" "nummies?" "Whehe?" "Yay!"
       >You quint, gazing out at the steaming tower. It doesn't look
       quite like a mountain of spaghetti, but it's steaming like a
       mountain of spaghetti would. And it's about the right color.
       >You order the nearby fluffies in a hug pile, so that you can
       stand atop them and deliver the good news.
       >"Wisten fwuffies!" you says to the gathered mass multicolored
       fluff. "We twavel faw to seek Sketti wand and it wite dere!"
       >You point to the steaming towers. "We woose fwuffies awong da
       way, and it hawd walk, but we heh!"
       >"Bebies wi wiv wif no feaw of munsters! Dere skettis fow
       eveyone! We made it!"
       >The joyous shouts and hugs of a thousand fluffies warms your
       heart to no end. Sad water forms at your eye, but it's not
       because of pain, or sadness.
       >It's pure joy. Mercury was right, Spaghetti Land is real, and
       you've made it.
       >There's not fast boxes to hurt you at the moment, and your herd
       of fluffies blankets the hot black ground as they trundle toward
       the towers.
       >You look up at the green sign, knowing it says "Spaghetti Land"
       in Human.
       >What you don't know is that it actually says "Perry Nuclear
       Generating Station"
       #Post#: 188--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Story Bits
   DIR By: Lord Anubis
       Date: June 4, 2012, 12:31 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Great story, Vanner. Take out the reference to Cleveland by name
       and you have a good to go Phase 1 story
       #Post#: 189--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Story Bits
   DIR By: fluff_n_stuff
       Date: June 4, 2012, 1:15 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Here's a rough draft for the final Fall of Cleveland:
       >You are a news reporter, standing atop a building with your
       remaining crew.
       >A helicopter awaits, ready to take you from the destroyed
       remains of Cleavland.
       >Millions upon millions of fluffies flood the streets of the
       city, filling every square inch of the human buildings with
       fluff.
       >They're organized about as well as you would expect.
       >Surprisingly, they've spread instructions to make their "not
       pwetties" into the ground holes so that it can all stay clean.
       >And they've taken to bashing the giant fiberglass mountain of
       spaghetti in an attempt to get at the mountain of food inside.
       >It's only a matter of time before the fluffies break the
       mountain of spaghetti so that all may feast upon the marinara
       goodness inside.
       >Some talk of  the "gween hooman munsters" that left. No more
       "woud sowwy stick" that "gif biggest owchies."
       >They cheer as the last military chopper disappears over Lake
       Erie.
       >it's sort of shocking to think a bunch of retard balls of fluff
       did this to a major American city.
       >You think back to everything that's happened here, and how it
       all formed into a perfect storm of failure.
       >The sewer gas levels are off the charts.
       > Strange white fluffies are going around giving "mean hugs" and
       breaking the necks of fluffies everywhere.
       >And there's the glowing fluffies are trying to eat other
       fluffies brains.
       >It's all thank to that stupid "Spaghetti Land."
       >Spaghetti Land is theirs now. It's time to leave.
       >You're gathering some last minute footage from the Fall of
       Cleveland, when you see a dark colored fluffy standing atop a
       pile of fluffy bodies.
       >"e wun!" he yells. "Hoomans aww gone! Sketti Wand is ouws!" He
       grabs a nearby fluffy, and gives him a hug.
       >"Why gif huggies?" he asks. "Fweind?"
       >"We aww fweinds!" he says. "Aww fwuffies gif hugs now! Hoomans
       go way, gif us Sketti Wand! huggies fow evy fwuffy!"
       >The streets burst into a cacophony of fluffies voices.
       "Huggies?" "Sketti wand fow fwuffies?" "Wat win?" "Huggies!" "No
       spechiah huggies!" "Enf enf enf!"
       >Soon the entire town is gripped in a carpet of hugs.
       >Minutes later the hugs become "special hugs" and the entire
       city become a mass of humping fluffies.
       >The near deafning "enf enf enf" is enough to finally bring a
       smile to your face.
       >These stupid animals just defeated the best military in the
       world and celebrate it by having a massive fuck-fest in the
       streets.
       >It's about then that you notice a mass of crackling blue light
       coming from the streets. It looks like lightening, but there's
       not a cloud in the sky.
       >It hits you a moment later that the collective thrusting and
       humping a billion fluffies is going to cause a lot of static
       electricity.
       >You check the gas meter again to find it pegged in the "Danger"
       zone.
       >Oh shit.
       >"GET TO THE CHOPPER!" you yell to your crew.
       >Without asking questions, your pilot guns the throttle as your
       crew piles in. In a moment, you're above Lake Erie just as the
       first explosion hits.
       >From deep within the sewers of Cleveland, an hollow thump sends
       waves of panic through the fluffies in the streets.
       >The earth rumbles beneath them, and moments later, gouts of
       flame blast manhole covers miles into the sky.
       >"Go, go, go!" shouts your sound guy to the pilot.
       >"We gotta stay!" you shout back. "Dave! Get on that camera!
       We're the only ones left to record this!"
       >You all watch in horror as fire, fueled by the waste of a
       billion fluffies, swallows the city beneath a sea of flames.
       >The collective cries of a billion fluffies reaches your ear as
       "NO WIKE DIS GAME!" "FIWE BAD!" NUUUU!"
       >You only watch agape as the fire becomes alive, consuming the
       fluffies who dare to defile Cleveland.
       >The second blast is far louder, and rattles your helicopter
       with an alarming thump.
       >The earth itself shudders beneath the city of Cleveland, and
       splits as a thousand explosions fill the city.
       >Gaia herself has declared revenge on the fluffies it seems.
       >The earth crumbles beneath them, swallowing the city beneath a
       cascade of asphalt and concrete.
       >You stare, stunned at the earth's revolt against the fluffies
       when the final piece of Cleveland joins the sea of fire and
       earth.
       >Lake Erie begins to spill.
       >A trickle at first, but with each piece that falls into the
       chasm that once was Cleveland, the waters of lake Erie torrent
       into the city.
       >Your crew captures it all as the entirety of Lake Erie drains,
       filling the grave of Cleveland with its murky waters.
       >Within an hour, it's all over, and a silence unknown to the
       city for weeks hangs in the air.
       >The soft patter of chopper blade is all that can be heard for
       miles around.
       >Ruined skyscrapers peak over the surface of the new Lake
       Cleveland.
       >Your crew is to stunned to say anything.
       >You've already got the Pulitzer in the bag for this coverage.
       >You say the only thing that's on your mind.
       >"It ended the only way it could: fluffy ponies drowned."
       #Post#: 195--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Story Bits
   DIR By: Lord Anubis
       Date: June 4, 2012, 5:19 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       I don't know if this was intentional or not, but you pretty much
       described the ending of Gears of War 2.
  HTML http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=stJzuO5aQMI
       Not that I'm complaining, it was a badass ending.
       A massive fluff orgy causing the chain reaction is hilarious,
       and that last line...
       I don't care what it takes, that has to be made possible.
       #Post#: 204--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Story Bits
   DIR By: PhilSrobeighn
       Date: June 4, 2012, 7:22 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Here's what I've got for a phase 1c story - litterally to be
       posted the day before the event.
       >Be a go-getter intern at the Cleveland City Hall
       >Currently working with the Board of Multispecies Tourism
       >You admire their concept: targeting the new sapient species of
       the planet
       >Fluffy ponies are as targetable as children in marketing
       >Now owners will pay to go to Spaghetti Land with their fluffies
       >Just like parents pay for Disney World
       >Just so the whining stops
       >You’ve already seen it in a couple of friends
       >Had a get together at a house of a fluffy owner
       >Another of your friends brought their fluffy to keep the
       owner’s fluffy company
       >They don’t seem to mind the “enf enf enf” coming
       from the living room
       >Even though both their fluffies are stallions
       >Probably don’t understand because they’ve never had
       the stallions around mares
       >Well, as long as there are no complaints about hurt
       poopie-places
       >Today, the near constant sound of “enf enf enf” stops
       for once
       >You recognize the Spaghetti Land commercial
       >Voice-over is a Patrick Stewart sound-alike you personally
       found
       >Got a “Good job, intern” from your boss
       >Suddenly, the two stallions come busting in
       >”Daddy, Daddy, magic box show mountain of skettis!”
       >”Big sketti pawk!  Fun wides fow fwuffies!”
       >”Pwease take fwuffy?”
       >”Pweeeeeeeeeease?”
       >The houseguest is a little strict with his
       >”Stop that noise!  You won’t get anything from me
       that way!”
       >Swats fluffy on the nose with a rolled-up paper
       >”Owchies!  Sowwy daddy!  No huwty!  Fwuffy be good!”
       >”Good.  Because I already bought our ticket.”
       >Fluffy pony perks up.  “Weawwy?”
       >”Yeah, little shit, so start behaving or else I’ll
       hawk them out.”
       >It’s an interesting love-abuse relationship
       >You know in the end he loves his fluffy
       >He just tries to put on a good show in front of your other
       friend
       >Other friend is such a pushover that pushovers take advantage
       of him
       >Other fluffy comes up to his owner and says “Fwiend get
       go!  Fwuffy go too?”
       >”Of course!  Our friend Greg here works for Spaghetti
       Land.  Sold us on the idea.”
       >Boss forced you to buy some tickets and sell them to friends
       >Part of a grassroots build-up of opening day success to fuel
       positive media
       >More like Astroturf roots if you say so yourself
       >”Yay!  Daddy bess daddy!”
       >”You’d better be good too, or else I’ll get rid
       of them just like our friend.”
       >”Fwuffy be vewwy good!  Fwuffy wuv Daddy, take fwuffy to
       Sketti Wan!”
       >So your friends have bought weeks of good behavior and hugs
       >Not the best use of the $109 owner and fluffy combo ticket fee
       you can think of
       >But it will make the city cash hoof over fist
       >And that might translate into a paid position for you
       >So you work your hardest to promote the success of Spaghetti
       Land
       >And tonight is no exception
       >Been pouring over the fireworks budget
       >Making sure that you show the best profit
       >A mix of balancing and book-cooking that makes you the best
       >But still, there is something that troubles you
       >You used to volunteer for your suburban hometown’s annual
       city fair
       >You know how much a good fireworks show costs
       >And this is supposed to be theme-park quality
       >Yet somehow your budget is running under that of a town of
       30,000
       >Gotta check that
       >Even if it means a bit more money, the night has to end with a
       bang
       >Pull up the receipts
       >Look at the received amounts
       >The amounts set aside for the big press event weekend is 70,000
       >That will set a world record!
       >How could it be so cheap?
       >Check the type of fireworks
       >There are names you’ve never heard of to describe
       fireworks
       >It seems most of this is sorted by weight
       >Check the manufacturers
       >Nothing sounds like a fireworks manufacturer
       >If it is in English, it’s labeled as “munitions”
       or “military surplus”
       >And most of it isn’t in English anyway
       >How the heck did this happen?
       >Note that all the receipts are signed for by one of the council
       members
       >One of the park’s biggest advocates
       >Go to his office
       >”Hey Greg, what’s up?”
       >”Sir, there seems to be a discrepancy in the fireworks
       purchasing”
       >”A ‘discrepancy?’  Whatever do you mean?”
       >”There don’t appear to be fireworks in the order
       >I’ve worked with fireworks before, and I don’t think
       these are fireworks
       >I think you’ve signed for a load of just cheap, dangerous
       explosives”
       >”Huh, let me see this”
       >He comes up around you and looks at the receipts
       >”So you’ve worked with fireworks?”
       >”Yes, sir.”
       >”Can you answer a question about something, then?”
       >”Sure, sir.”
       >”Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?”
       >”I don’t see what that has to do with firewo-”
       >Be very dizzy
       >Wake up later in a dark place
       >Recognize the markings on the wall as you come to
       >This is a storage area in the utilidors below Spaghetti Land
       >You are surrounded by explosives
       >You try to move, but you are chained to a pillar
       >You try to yell, but you are gagged
       >Nevertheless, you are heard
       >”Well, good morning Greg!
       >And I use that term lightly, as it is late at night
       >Don’t bother yelling, I assure you we are far enough away
       from the main paths
       >And this area is marked for a security clearance that
       doesn’t really exist anyway
       >I made sure this area was set aside in Spaghetti Land for this
       purpose
       >You see, I’ve tried killing fluffies ever since I first
       saw them
       >I knew they were terrible little abominations all along
       >As they grew in number and strength, I came to realize
       something
       >These things were designed to be like they are by men
       >They were to be pets, pets to be taken care of
       >Pets whose care would make a profit for their creators
       >Just look at the new wave!
       >Won’t eat or play or shit unless you bought the right
       brand of crap
       >You see, the problem isn’t the fluffies
       >It’s the goddamn faggots that love them so much
       >That’s why these things are bred to the point of mass
       overpopulation
       >That’s why the useless ones weren’t killed, but just
       left to become feral
       >And it’s these faggots that I am going to kill off in a
       tragic fireworks accident
       >And then I will have a city free of those who would suffer the
       fluffies to live
       >Not to mention millions off of ticket fees and billions off of
       insurance
       >We’ll finally be able to make your position paid and
       permanent!
       >Not that you’ll be around to enjoy that
       >I’ll be sure you get a Citizen’s Award from the City
       Council though
       >For bravely staying with the city’s project to your
       end”
       >With that he cackles and walks away
       >You manage to get the gag out of your mouth
       >”Does your mother know you’re so evil?” is the
       best quip you can manage
       >”Oh, sonny boy, mama knows, but she don’t care.”
       >He then breaks your jaw with a violent blow
       >Then reattaches the gag
       >No chance you’ll be heard now
       >You try to get out of the chains
       >No hope now
       >If you don't starve to death down here first
       >You will be blown to bits with the crowd
       >You fall down and try to make peace
       >It’s hard to meditate with such a pervasive smell of
       fluffy shit in the air
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